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poslink Issue 100, Spring 2022

THE RETROSPECTIVE

For almost 25 years, Poslink has told a living story of our community response to HIV.

In celebration of Issue 100, our contributors dive deep into the archives. As Max Niggl writes, stories of living with HIV convey the emotion that's needed to spark social change. While Beau Newham brings awareness to the legacy of a community elder that still echoes in our present.

Our living story

by Timothy Krulic with contributions from David Menadue and Max Niggl.

Next year, Poslink turns 25 years old.

Its earliest pages uncover a community of people living with HIV rebuilding from a time of policy neglect and cuts to services. Issue 1 still has visual impact and vital news from a volunteer board, executive officer and assistant. I think it shows that everyone has something to offer to this still unfolding, living story of our community response to HIV in Victoria.

Poslink’s story begins, however, with the national masthead, Positive Living.

First published by People Living with HIV and AIDS Victoria (now Living Positive Victoria) in 1989, Positive Living became a leading source of HIV related news, advocacy and journalism in Australia. Editorial responsibility for the magazine eventually transited to NAPWHA. But key contributors, including Bridget Haire, Colin Batrouney and David Menadue stayed on board to maintain a high quality of content for our new newsletter, Poslink.

David Menadue at the opening of the Positive Living Centre in 1993. Photograph: supplied.

In preparation for this retrospective, all editions of Poslink published from 1998, are now available online in our new-look archive. The Australian Queer Archives, based at the Victorian Pride Centre in Melbourne, still house hardcopies of the earliest 10 editions for the public to see and to hold. Featured on the cover of this issue, they provide compelling reading.

1998 was a turning point in the epidemic. Rapid advancements in ART gave new hope to many. Promoting understanding of treatments and side effects was a major purpose of the newsletter. Lived experience opened up conversations about the reality of battling side effects. A fresh-faced PLHWA Victoria advertised its new services. Treatment events, featuring Vanessa Wagner and her ‘Wheel of Misfortune’ offered a lighter, if slightly unhinged, collaborative way to access information.

Detail from 'When the going gets tough' by Colin Batrouney in Issue 3.

Reading Poslink from the mid-2000s reveals a time when our community was smaller and less visible. We regularly shared personals ads and letters to the editor. Planet Positive began as an open invitation from two contributors, David Menadue and Daniel Donnelly. In it, they outlay the limited opportunities for positive connection at the time. You can still read some of the back and forth as members mark out a space all of their own in bars and pubs across Melbourne.

Our newsletter was a source of connection but also discussion. Often, these were led by outspoken presidents, like John Daye and Greg Iverson. Writing in a context where stigma and silence was contributing to a widening sero-divide, Greg admired Tobin Saunders’s (aka Vanessa Wagner) ability to be out and open about his HIV status on the celebrity season of the popular reality television show, Big Brother. Greg called this the “fuck ‘em all” approach towards stigma. For him, Tobin exemplified,

“That feeling of no shame, claiming what is rightfully ours in a society that purportedly prides itself in its diversity, acceptance and support.”

Pandemic fatigue was making itself felt, too. As successive governments disinvested in the response there was an increase in rates of transmission among gay men in Victoria. One piece, written by David Menadue, stands out. Well before we knew about U=U, he outlined the role positive people played as part of the shared responsibility of HIV prevention. Strategies that could invoke more stigma were contrasted against tools that might facilitate honest conversations about the challenges of maintaining safe sex when fear, desire, self-esteem, uncertainty and drugs, dark rooms and parties were all at play. Without funding for a positive voice campaign, David encouraged readers to write in to share their own experiences and strategies in the magazine.

The following decade saw a renewal of the community response in Victoria. In 2011, then president Paul Kidd welcomed the move to Coventry House in an update to members. Working effectively and collaboratively with Positive Women and Straight Arrows became standard. Poslink shared news, events and stories from all three organisations until Living Positive Victoria and Straight Arrows merged in 2017.

By this time people living with HIV were inhabiting a vastly different world. Beyond biomedical advances, websites, email and social media had completely changed now we connected and communicated. These platforms offered a far more sophisticated and dynamic way to engage community members with health information, news, events and consultation. Grassroots initiatives, like The Institute of Many, demonstrated new ways we could see, connect with and support each other.

The cover of Issue 92, "Beyond Unprecedented" featuring artist Katie Eraser.

What could print and the written word still have to offer?

Space will always be needed to unpack complex health advice. Although treatment information has become easier to keep up with, entire issues are still dedicated to mental and sexual health and maintaining a good quality of life as we age.

Most of all, Poslink remains an essential outlet for our unique advocacy and voices. As Max Niggl writes in this edition, diverse stories of living with HIV convey the emotion that’s needed to spark social change. Critical perspectives on the social, political and biomedical dimensions of HIV are a mainstay. Over the past few years alone, our contributors have led conversations on HIV and gender inequity, PrEP, U=U, discrimination in criminal, migration and public health law, drugs and consumption, sex work, and the racism, sexism and queer phobia that intersect with stigma.

COVID-19 saw the end of Poslink in print. Right up until the winter lockdown in 2020, staff and volunteers diligently printed, packed and mailed hundreds of copies of each issue to community organisations and clinics across Australia. We have taken this as an opportunity to integrate a richer visual language into our offering. By engaging members with art, photos and stories from our community and collaborators we hope that each quarterly issue of Poslink gives people a moment out of their busy lives to engage and connect with the issues that matter most to our community.

There is something about telling personal truth that never fails to have an impact on both the teller and the reader. What might you contribute to this story?

Timothy Krulic (he/him) has edited Poslink since 2017. Pictured: Vanessa Wagner and Dr Beng Eu at one of Living Positive Victoria's treatment interactive events in 2004.

Lost in a legacy

by Beau Newham

It’s a Monday evening and there is a small crowd gathered in Melbourne for the official launch of a brand-new health service called Asianline.

The initiative is deceptively simple: a phone, staffed by volunteers, can be called to access sexual health information in multiple Asian languages.

If the event is low key, the speakers are the opposite. There to formally launch the program is Marina Mahathir, the former president of the Malaysian AIDS Council and daughter of the former Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad. She is joined by Suzanna Murni, an outspoken HIV advocate and one of the founders of the first organisation for people living with HIV in Indonesia - Spiritia. It’s a dazzling showing of regional solidarity for a humble volunteer run telephone line.

Pictured next to them, with a dazzling smile, is Beng Lim, the founder and coordinator of the project. Asianline was the culmination of years of his advocacy and hard work. He had spent years volunteering to build up Asian focused programs in Melbourne but sadly this would be his last. He would die a year later, in the summer of 1997.

That brief story, as reported in the Star Observer, was one of the first times I came across Beng Lim.

At the time I was going through the archives searching for mentions of positive support groups in Melbourne. Instead, I ended up getting lost in the legacy of a man who had given us so much.

For anyone who has lost hours of their life going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, community archives can offer the same sort of seductive magic. Those of us in the PLHIV community know it can feel like finally catching up on the early seasons of a show you’ve been watching for years. You recognise the familiar characters, but they are speaking to you from a different place and time (and sporting some very fetching haircuts from decades past).

Staffed by volunteers, Asianline provided sexual health information in Vietnamese, Malaysian, Indonesian and Chinese. Photograph: supplied, courtesy the Queer Archives.

When I heard about the upcoming 100th edition of Poslink, I thought of Beng. He was a regular contributor to Positive Living, PLWHA Victoria’s earlier magazine.

Community archives offer us glimpses into our collective history. Awareness of so many things that still echo in our present. They can also give us insight of what has been forgotten. The blind spots of the narratives that we tell ourselves about HIV, the response, and our communities.

I hadn’t heard of Beng before. I hadn’t heard of the support group for Asians with HIV that he used to run out of his house. I hadn’t heard of the incredible dedication he had to the Positive Speakers Bureau – his endless engagements speaking at schools and other public institutions across Victoria. I hadn’t heard his radio shows. I hadn’t heard of Asianline.

What I have often heard, working in the sector, was that migrants, especially Asian migrants, are “hard to reach” and “hidden.” But migrants have been part of the HIV response since the very beginning. Beng’s story is one of many. It’s a story that shows again and again what we all know; when communities are the centre of the response, they can achieve amazing things.

Beng’s legacy is safer than most. In 1995 a collection of interviews and talks by Beng were brought together by Peter Davis in an audio project called ‘The Heart of a Tiger’. The work is a thoughtful, frank conversation between himself and Beng. It highlights many of the intersecting challenges for positive gay and bi+ Asian migrants in Australia. Beng’s story speaks to the specificity of many of his experiences, be that of sexuality, racism, stigma or death.

The tape was distributed alongside a cultural guide called “Sex, Living and Dying: Cross Cultural Meanings & HIV/AIDS” by Amos Hee. In combination they are a powerful reminder of the ongoing struggle of the HIV sector to build in a concept of cultural safety into our responses.

In the short time that he was active, Beng was able to build a community in Melbourne for HIV positive Asians. When I spoke to those who attended the positive Asian support group, they emphasised how important that space was for them due to the social isolation they often experienced at the time due to both their status and racism within the gay community.

It’s important to contextualise the racial hatred Asian communities were facing in those years. By 1996, Pauline Hanson became the face of anti-Asian racism in Australia, a viewpoint legitimised by her election to parliament. Asian migrants were suddenly in a country where their very existence was up for debate.

This anti-Asian hatred found its way into all our communities. It was not so long ago that dating profiles still brazenly stated “no Asians.” Bars popular with Asian men were dismissed - “it’s all chopsticks and walking sticks.” The community spaces promoted as “safe” were often anything but for Asian community members.

Asian communities (both migrant and Australian born) weren’t passive or inactive in response to this racist hostility. Leaders like Beng were able to highlight the very real impact this was having on Asian communities. Others built their own club nights and bars such as Katana Club and Lotus Club. Important community groups formed throughout the 80s, 90s and 00s with the direct goal to build safe spaces and mobilise around issues facing Asian communities. To name but a few, in Sydney there was AsiaHoy!, Silk Road, Asian Lesbian and Gay Pride and Asians and Friends and in Melbourne Silk, Long Yang Club, Lotus and Gay Asian and Proud.

Beng's obituary written by David Menaude in Positive Living, January 1998, page 11.

These histories are important to remember, especially as the community and our sector work to cement and celebrate our complicated legacies. Significant works such as Fighting for our Lives and In the Eye of the Storm cover such a broad scope of the history of the community response to HIV that I’m at a loss to explain the absence of the work of Asian communities within their pages. Even when directly referencing key figures in these groups such as Lyle Chan (one of the founders of Asians and Friends) or William Yang, there is no mention of their work with Asian communities or their long spanning impact on the sector. Other important figures such as Beng himself, Michael Camit or Arnel Landicho are completely absent.

The positive Asian support group and Asianline are no longer active, but they are a reminder of the longevity and strength of positive Asian community responses in Australia.

As we seek to (re)engage new and older generations of migrant communities, this legacy falls to an incredible array of positive migrant leaders who now work in our sector. This includes LPV’s very own Emil Canita, ACON’s Justin Xiao, NAPWHA’s Jimmy Chen, Satrio Nindyo Istiko and many others. Their work has seen the growth of the Positive Asian Network of Australia, and I have no doubt they will continue to push the sector towards centring Asian communities in Australia.

Beng dedicated the end of his life so that Asian people living with HIV in Melbourne wouldn’t be left behind. We owe it to his legacy, and the legacy of the many leaders like him, to support new initiatives and new leaders to make sure that becomes a reality.

“I hope that with this tape it will be something that I can reach out to the Asian people who is living with the virus. And if this tape can touch one person's life, it will be my greatest joy. And I hope also that with this tape, when people hear it, they will feel that they can go out and enjoy their life and to be able to say, I'm all right, although I'm positive but I'm still living well.”

Beng Lim, 1995

Sparking change

by Max Niggl with contributions from Timothy Krulic

The sharing of personal stories is part of humankind’s history.

Since the start of the Australian HIV & AIDS epidemic, it has been a hallmark of the response.

Who could forget the closing plenary of the third Australian AIDS Conference in Hobart in 1988? A group of people walked onto the stage and declared that they were HIV positive and that they were no longer content to remain invisible (including Bev Greet, co-founder of Positive Women). Their stories, their bravery, started more conversations. They certainly grabbed the media’s attention. Suddenly, it seemed the public saw real people with real stories. They were peers deciding to speak out, peers supporting each other and declaring that being silent equals death.

POS Perspective, featuring John Daye in Issue 1, regularly shared stories submitted by readers.

In 1998 Living Positive Victoria named its newsletter Poslink. Contributors were many as we sought to provide our members with treatment information, medical advice, conference reports, articles from dieticians and naturopaths. Reading those early editions was a compelling journey as the new treatments were providing hope to so many.

Over the years since, Poslink has seen many changes and all for the better. But a constant has been telling personal stories.

Why has it been so important to share stories of living with HIV throughout the epidemic? And why is it still so important today?

'I have always found it hard to remain silent about having bisexual experiences, probably because I became HIV positive in the activist days when the main campaign motto was "silence = death."' - Peter Davis in Issue 68, "Adults Only."

Peer support, caring for each other and building community can only happen by telling stories. In the period 1984 – 1994, newsletters (remember them?) and the gay press were crucial to communicate to other HIV positive people who did not want to be open about their status. We can’t forget how many were worried about receiving our newsletters in the mail. There could be no sender identification on the envelope, but they could then privately read the articles and the personal stories. Sometimes, it was reading other people’s stories that gave less sense of being alone. Sometimes it gave courage to start telling their own.

The ripples of peers inspiring each other can grow to be enormous. In 2001, I managed to persuade the speakers bureaus of Living Positive Victoria, Positive Women and Straight Arrows to come together as one. It was the first time we had speakers and trainees of different genders and sexualities come together with regular development opportunities, peer support and professional training. Barriers were broken down. Trust was built. Stories identified commonalities. From there on the Positive Speakers Bureau was united in sharing each other’s stories to audiences of thousands every year.

'These women were smart, capable and funny... If they could do it then so could I.' - Jackie Roberts in Issue 82, "Press for Progress."

Many speakers have shared their stories in Poslink. They were the human face of HIV to our readership and the wider community. Their ability to speak publicly at a time when stigma was still so visceral meant that many found themselves on the front line of anti-discrimination work. Jeffrey Robertson’s 2004 story of being targeted by a relentless campaign in a regional city, was powerful. He tells of his decision to fight back, share his story with local media and establish Breaking the Chains, an advocacy network to educate regional communities.

At other times, our stories promote insights for living well. By the mid-2000s, Poslink regularly published stories submitted by readers, sometimes anonymously. Many of these stories voiced the struggles we might be tempted to face alone. Challenging topics such as HIV and libido, alcohol and other drugs, anal cancer, negotiating sero-discordant relationships were all in the stories mix as peoples’ lives were being rebuilt with the more effective treatments. Now that ageing with HIV is the distinct experience of many, stories of living long term and maintaining a good quality of life are regular features of our coverage on our unique perspectives on health promotion.

Today our stories continue to shine awareness on the way that stigma intersects with the disadvantage and discrimination that still exist in our institutions and structures.

'Discrimination adds a bigger load to our shoulders. I especially worry about trans women and other people living with HIV who are separated from their partner or family. ' - Sharon in Issue 94, "The season for Pride."

An interesting through line to our most recent edition are two stories, one by Steve Spencer and the other by Peter Davis published almost a decade apart, which speak to the dualities and challenges of finding inclusive spaces for bisexual men living with HIV.

There have been several editions on women’s perspectives of living with HIV. As Heather Mugwagwa wrote in 2018, HIV is superimposed on the existing disadvantage women face within a gendered social system. These editions have accompanied stories of women accessing their rights, and finding each other, pleasure, love and a new sense of themselves.

'I feel very safe and secure living here. People are open-minded. I can be myself without any judgment.' - Arty in Issue 92, "Viral Times."

Over the last few years, stories have explored trans and Aboriginal experiences. Increasingly, our focus is on the challenges faced by new and temporary migrants. The newest members of our community are of incredibly diverse cultural, gender and sexual identities who seek safety, access to treatments, community connection and a future that lives up to their dreams and aspirations.

From the early AIDS activists to individual empowerment of individuals, it has been the personal narratives that have changed people’s minds and provided enormous support and encouragement.

Max Niggl (he/him) was a staff member of Living Positive Victoria and the Positive Speaker’s Bureau coordinator 1999 – 2019. Pictured: attendees at the third National Conference on HIV/AIDS in Hobart in August 1988, courtesy of NAPWHA.

Cover photo: "Poslink Y2K." Collage in digital media. 2022. By Prue Marks and Living Positive Victoria.

The cover art for Issue 100 is a collaboration with long-time contributor to Poslink's art and design, Prue Marks from Undercurrent. Featuring the covers of the first 10 issues of Poslink, published 1998-2002, pop-art meets some Y2K typeface, graphics and design.

Poslink is the newsletter of Living Positive Victoria and provides readers with the latest HIV treatment and service information, personal stories of living with HIV and helpful advice on maintaining a healthy lifestyle. Click here to subscribe and read previous issues. Poslink is always seeking writers to share their personal stories or expert advice with our readers. If you are interested in becoming a writer please email info@livingpositivevictoria.org.au

ISSN 1448-7764

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