My Corona

Coronavirus. She is on your TV new station. It’s all everyone is talking about. The coronavirus is closing this, that is cancelled, life is cancelled, even the coronavirus conference is cancelled. Coronavirus is getting some serious press. Climate Change called, “Bitch, who’s your publicist?”

Not a fan of Miss Corona at the moment. April Unwrapped, my one woman show, previewed in Las Vegas last month. I had worked my entire life for this and we were getting ready to open my regular run for my residency and BAM! Coronavirus hit and everything has been postponed indefinitely. This is a surreal kick in the heart to say the least, as my line of work is filled with hustle and rejection even when doomsday is not looming upon us.

More than anything, this has been irking me as a long time HIV/AIDS activist. As someone who has many friends in the long term survivor community, I appreciate the stress and fear surrounding Miss Corona. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention more people were dead within the first month of AIDS, and it took the CDC THREE YEARS to assemble a task force. It was only after activists who came before me took radical action. Or as Mark S. King of My Fabulous Disease explained, that it was convenient to ignore HIV/AIDS because “the right people” were dying, meaning LGBTQ, addicts, and POC. Unfortunately, only something becomes a crisis when it hits the straight, white, cis community.

While the privilege of the dominant culture and double standard around who matters have reduced me to screaming matches with people, I also do not believe anyone regardless of who they are should perish by coronavirus. I have been raging against the like of Katie Jo Williams aka Corona Katie who believe coronavirus is manufactured myth not to get Trump re-elected, or as she said on Twitter, “I am going to get a burger at Red Robin because I am an American and that is what I do.” So as an American you do not care about the immunosuppressed like long term HIV survivors who consider flu season hell, people with COPD, cancer patients going through chemo, children with asthma and others at risk? Look, I know it sucks but we have to do what is necessary until this is under control.

What is most disheartening is not only the selfish panic buying but racism I am seeing against Asian in the form of tweets, memes, and rhetoric. There is a story circulating that a guy ate a bat and BAM, we have coronavirus. (Okay, maybe coronavirus’s publicist needs a new spin on this). This is reminiscent of the racist myth during AIDS that some African in the forest had sex with a money and BAM, we have AIDS. (I hope AIDS fired her publicist after that one). Crappy jokes aside to lighten the mood, as an activist I find this ignorance disgusting, but a waste of valuable time and energy that could be used not only to educate others about transmission about coronavirus, but how to prevent that transmission not only to themselves but to others around them, especially the most vulnerable. Add in the disregard for science by our president and vice president and wow, I am like a drag queen who just lost the pageant on a technicality.

As I was marinating in my resentment that the world sucked and we were all gonna die last week, I was involved in a minor car accident when my car was struck by a vogue taxi cab. After seeing my life flash before my eyes, dealing with the drama that comes with an accident and Metro PD, I was star trekking in the Twilight Zone. When I got home and saw the coronavirus coverage on TV I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t do it. Yeah Miss Corona might get me, but that rogue taxi cab did a much better job of nearly getting me. Bye Felicia.

Since that time I have been focusing on myself, but most importantly self-care. Like Shakespeare did when the theatres closed during the plague, I have been writing more prose, and perhaps I will take a stab at a sonnet. I have been practicing more with my puppets, perfecting our routines so we are not just ready for the opening whenever it comes, but sharper than ever when things get back to normal. I am going outside, enjoying the sunshine, and enjoying the dogs. In a few weeks, it will be warm enough here to plant tomatoes.

A quote from another long time AIDS activist friend comes to mind, “Pace yourself.” My rage is okay and well placed, but right now, I just got to do me. I see a bath bomb in my near future. When things get back to normal, I want to call Miss Corona, “Bitch, I’m opening in Vegas. Who’s your publicist?”

George HW Bush and Other Thoughts

Today they laid to rest George HW Bush. I had mixed feelings about the late president 41. As an HIV/AIDS activist, I feel he let those affected and those at risk down. Not only did he stand back and do nothing as countless Americans died, but even victim blamed during the presidential debates when asked about what he was doing about the crisis.

The Bush family, father and son, have always been historically anti-woman and homophobic. Not only did they support abstinence education but gave federal funding to these programs. They were not only pro-life, but gave money to faith based organizations. They supported sentencing drug and alcohol offenders to the 12 Steps, which while they work for some recovery is not a one sizes fits all approach. Their policies affected those not only living with HIV, but those enduring domestic abuse and the horrors of addiction.

I had some ACT UP comrades blast the late president, particularly those who took place in the Ashes Action, where those who lost someone to HIV/AIDS dumped the ashes of their loved ones on the White House lawn, celebrate his death. Others half jokingly said he died on World AIDS Day to stick it to the community once more.

Yet on the same token, Bush was a memory of what had left The White House. He served his country, nearly dying in combat. The late president, like my grandfathers, was fighting true evil in the South Pacific. Bush also pushed the Americans with Disabilities Act, which ironically has been used to help those living with HIV/AIDS, addiction, and in some instances those suffering from domestic violence.

In attendance at that funeral was a sitting president who used his family's wealth to get countless deferments due to "bone spurs" while countless young men who did not have his privilege died. Under this same sitting president, the Nazis are rising again, an evil that would make my grandfathers and great uncles roll in their graves and foam at the mouth in the afterlife. This same president wants to gut the Americans with Disabilities Act, The Ryan White Care Act, and any protection given to those suffering from addiction and domestic violence. And while he has pledged to fight the heroin issue, he is criminalizing a disease.

Bush never verbally attacked people he disagreed with. He never made his attacks on his opponents personal. Bush always disagreed with ideas and not people. Even at his worst, George Bush would have never made fun of a physically disabled reporter. Tragically, the same cannot be said for Trump.

Bush could take a joke and even shook the hand of Dana Carvey. Trump refused to attend the White House Correspondence Dinner and is still lambasting Michelle Wolf.

Bush's legacy was far from perfect and so was the man.. But in that same room was Bill Clinton. Politically he was a friend to women, blacks, and LGBTQ. But we cannot ignore that he was a sexual abuser who assaulted countless women. We also cannot forget how he sold the LGBTQ down the river with Don't Ask Don't Tell and Defense of Marriage Act. We cannot forget that while Clinton truly loved the American people, his frat boy ways brought disgrace to the highest office in the land. And with Three Strikes and Hillary referring to blacks as "super predators" maybe he wasn't such a friend to the black community.

I am sure this is going to offend, but we must tell the truth if history is to be accurately represented. So today, we are not just mourning #41, we are mourning the loss of an adult in The White House. And as an activist, I will continue to honor those lost to HIV/AIDS and laws who didn't protect victims of domestic abuse by fighting harder. And I will honor his legacy by telling the truth about him both good and bad.

Heat of the Moment (Asia)

The other day I was feeling low. This was after several days of feeling unbelievably good after a rather shitty fall. A clip of mine aired on television. I was a show I filmed as I wasn't feeling particularly good and it seemed everything was imploding around me. It was God throwing me a bone. Then I found out I was receiving an award. More on that later. Both seemed good.

But then there was that one thing I couldn't do. That one thing I haven't gotten.

I have been on television a gazillion times but have never managed to get a reoccurring role let alone have my own show. I have published two books but have never managed to snag a bestseller. I have pitched shows but never sold an idea. I have done modelling assignments but have never had a centerfold. I have done some great sets but I am not a headliner who regularly packs them in. I have known resident acts on the strip and have performed there but have never been a resident act.

I have a whole list of almost but nevers.

It's not good. It's not bad. It just is.

Grad school is going well. I was divided as to go and when as I did undergrad in three years. While I am glad I saved my parents dough I always felt like I rushed through. I also did some college as I did high school and life always seemed like a treadmill to the next place and I could never be where I was and enjoy it. I told myself if I did grad school I wanted to enjoy it and now I am. I wish I would have gone sooner but now I am.

Yet I always feel like I am juggling and sometimes dropping. There are times these last few months where my plate has felt so full I cannot digest what's in front of me. I know I am not the first woman to get a masters and to work. Yet it feel like somehow, there is never enough time or money or this or that.

My advocacy has been keeping me busy. I took part in an event for World AIDS Day, or at least the week of. It was a panel where we talked about Crystal Meth and HIV in the black/Latinx gay community. The panel was rewarding and I felt pumped about the dialogue around recharge.

But I couldn't contribute as much because I was lead editor for a contest, in two plays, staging my show for a festival, and partaking in a project I eventually quit because the director was a dick. But I was working and performing and then there was school. Yet I wasn't there more and I let AIDS down.

I got a job and couldn't march on World AIDS Day, and I had promised I would be there. To me my word is everything. Again I felt like I let AIDS down.

These thoughts raced through my mind today and then I remembered the Asia lyric from the song Heat of the Moment, "Teenage ambitions you remember well......"

The truth is, I had always dreamed of coming to NYU and performing. I wanted to be bicoastal in Vegas and LA and now I am. I am getting the masters I always wanted to. I wanted to write and I wrote two books. RENT was one of my favorite soundtracks and not only did I live in the East Village, but I am an activist as well as an artist and am becoming with ACT UP.

My almosts and nevers could change. There is still time, I am not dead. I am more adult as a grad student, and we have to grow to learn to be where our feet are. I am involved not only with ACT UP, but have marched against Trump. It is in part because I have known people affected by HIV/AIDS and his policies would hurt them as well as women, children, and any other vulnerable population. I didn't fail AIDS. I just had to pay my rent. Did I say RENT......heh......

I also know there are people who never expected me to make it this far. There are some folks who I will not name because they do not matter who wrote me off. As I wake up each day and fight the good fight, I know I haven't failed.

Sure, I am hard on myself, but the important part is that I haven't quit. Did I mention Legally Blonde was a good movie? Yeah, I think I need to watch more comedy.



www.AprilBrucker.TV

Unplugging

I have been extremely involved since the start of election season. Donald J. Tramp was a spokespuppet for an anti-Trump group. We marched in Cleveland. Then we covered the debates in Las Vegas. When things didn't go our way, we marched with NYCLU.

Then there is The Lady and President Tramp. It got into it's first festival. I am excited.

However, as of late I have been feeling some activist burn out. A friend of mine who has been involved in ACT UP for over two decades cautioned me to pace myself. He has been arrested a bunch of times and more. He even admits he takes breaks.

The whole kneeling thing has made me crazy. I have never met more obnoxious people and have seen more nasty mud slinging on both sides. There have been people on the left saying more cops should die. People on the right have been insisting on violence against the kneelers. I just wanted to tell them that if they care so much, why don't they march or volunteer?

Oh no. That would take work.

My mom was a Title IX activist in college. It was the 1970s and the women's team wanted letter jackets for their winning season. The men got them and their season was not as successful. As the captain, my mom acted as media spokeswoman, not only speaking to the press but ultimately requesting they had special meal times and study halls like the men.

I am proud of my mom for her activism, but like many Second Wavers she had enough of the infighting in the movement. Plus it takes a lot of time and energy to be an activist. So when she graduated from college my mom taught, coached, married, had kids, and enjoyed her life. Her contributions helped many other women, but the sun had set on her time as an activist and she was moving on.

Then again, that is the thing about activism, the freaking infighting. There have been events I have been at where Black Lives Matter shows up. The middle class white activists cringe each time fearing they will get violent. Meanwhile BLM are allies in the movement. I have never had anything but wonderful experiences with the vibrant, fresh energy of BLM. They have always been positive in my encounters with them. But the racism and.....dont even get me started.....

And then of course in the LGBTQ there are so many cisgender queer people who are transphobic. I have seen this too at political marches and have played den mother. I want to scream, "STOP IT! FUCKING STOP IT!"

Then among women there is the sex positive thing, but the shaming of Hugh Hefner. Then there is the argument burlesque is feminist and then there is the argument that it is stripping. There is the believing the victim, but also not encouraging the victim to take responsibility to see their patterns and perhaps learn so they don't forever become a victim. When I bring this up, and I qualify myself as a DV person, I get shit. I want abusive men punished, but codependency is a two way street. Both partners are sick in an instance of DV. Yet it seems none of these people, many who have never experienced it, do not want to hear me.

I want to say that if we want to be strong we can take responsibility. We can not buy things that offend us. Change the channel. Anything but the whiny stupidity.

And then who can be considered a woman. I have been to feminist events where trans people have been barred. If someone wants to take a paycut and be cat called come on in. If someone wants to identify as nonbinary I am not stopping you. But there are people who disagree with me violently.

I just can't with any of you anymore.

To top it off, the weekly fights with right wing nuts have been too much with their grammar errors and other hate flinging on the internet.

The straw that broke the camel's back was Las Vegas yesterday. A man who is mentor and means quite a bit to me lives there. He was safe in bed during the shooting as he has been hard at work on an event, plus he is 70. While he is very active in the entertainment business, like many Las Vegas locals he has no use for the free concerts on The Strip.

However, my worry was his daughter would have been there with her boyfriend or cousin. They are 22, free concert age. But luckily they weren't there. None of my LV peeps were there. However, the daughter of my mentor had a friend who was critically wounded. I was sick for that young man and his family.

Still, the talk of the event made me sick as people wouldnt shut the fuck up about it. And then they want gun control. And then they want to talk about mental illness. Having had a mentally ill partner I can educate people on the subject. I tried a few times to tell people how we need to talk about BOTH. It was like talking to a wall.

Especially since my ex, a mentally disturbed Iraq War vet, fired his service weapon at the wall during a psychotic break in which he believed the ghost of the soldier that tried to kill him came back to get him. Needless to say, there was no ghost. However, there were neighbors who had children. The cops were called and there was a lesser charge he plead down to in exchange for some information on another crime. The firearm was taken away obviously. No one was hurt thank God.

Still, my ex withheld this information from me when we got together. I found this out after we broke up. The fact my ex and people like him can get a weapon frightens the living fuck out of me. Either way, when people began to deny Sandy Hook I had to log off. This shit was waaaaaayyyyyyyy too fucking much.

Last night, I was talking with two kiddos who identify as nonbinary at the haunted house I am doing full body puppets at. The election came up. Tensions flashed. Both were quick to remind me as a cisgender white woman I would be fine. I wanted to tell them how involved I had been and how my life and political experience eclipsed theirs. We were all politically opinionated positioned in our perspective corners.

Then one said, "No more talk of politics, it's too stressful."

No wiser words had ever been uttered in the last several months. The tension bubble was burst. They were like me. They couldn't do it anymore. They had burnt out. They put up a boundary and I more than accepted it. I wanted to borrow it for my own use.

Another one of the kiddos, a nonbinary person who went to Smith, admitted that they had been knee deep in activism marching quite a bit themselves. However, like myself they were taking a much needed break. At that moment, we connected. We showed up. We made our statements. Now we just couldnt........

This is why the haunted house was such a stress release. And we are operating full body puppets. I have done ventriloquism obviously, hand and rod, bunraku, Balinese shadow puppets and even marionettes but never full body. While they are heavy at times it pays alright and I look forward to the challenge. Plus people seem relatively nice and chill. I need the laugh. I need the break. But most importantly, this is a chance to learn and grow as a puppeteer.

This young kiddo from also told me she is set to attend a South Asian family wedding this next weekend. I learned they were practicing the dance of the single cousins, aka their version of the bouquet toss. It would be two days of fun, and henna tattoos. That was so much more interesting, informative, and fulfilling than any political conversation I have had in some time.

And a week before, as I was leaning towards taking a break, I met from guys going to the Mets game who were middle of the road Trump supporters. They saw my trunk and I did a show with Donny. They laughed. They weren't evil and didn't have fangs. They just voted the lesser of two evils.

Monday I went to an acting class and did a fun monologue with an amazing teacher. I return next week. Days before, I applied to graduate school for my writing and am awaiting a response. (GULP). I have also been accepted into an Onion writing workshop that I look forward to, and am set to do more modelling and release a calendar.

As for my show, it will be at SOLOCOM in November at the PIT Loft.

I intend to be back to fight for the rights of people who are HIV/AIDS positive, abused women, LGBTQ, mental health/addicts, and others who suffer under abuse of those in power.

However, I need a break to stretch and grow. I need to take a breath and get my brains back before I shave my head, open my window and throw out my computer. You have your right to your opinion, I have my right to mine.

But we are both currently assholes.

Now for my nightly mango.

April Unwrapped