You Need BLOOD Like I Do

You need love like I do, don't you?

I can tell by the way you look, when I'm looking at you
You need love like I do, don't you
It seems like I'm looking in the mirror, when I'm looking at you

YOU NEED LOVE LIKE I DO (DON'T YOU ?)

(Barrett Strong / Norman Whitfield)

The year was 1976. I turned 18. The draft was over. I could legally drink. I could vote. I came “out” the closet. I gave blood for the very first time.

I did not think much of it back then. I was never afraid of needles. I will never forget how my mother cringed and told me to look away the first time I had blood drawn at the doctor’s office. Well that was all I needed to hear as a rebellious youth. I watched the entire process totally fascinated. Hey do you need me to help you find a good vein? I know, I am kinda weird like that.

Living in Baltimore, I was a senior at Northwestern High School when the class of ’76 sponsored a Red Cross blood drive. I was one of the first to line up and donate the gift of life. It didn’t hurt to get a free glass of juice and chocolate chip cookies afterwords. Plus I was doing something to help somebody.

After all, we need blood.

It was a regular practice of mine. When asked, I gave. It was no big deal. I liked juice and cookies. Let me be clear, I never sold blood for money like a drug addict. (I am weird, not desperate.) I spent a lot of time working with drug addicts in my theater company Actors Against Drugs. A dude said to me one day, “You would have made a great heroin addict. You have great veins.” (A back handed compliment never made me feel so uncomfortable.) It reminded me of the good and bad that comes from the fluid that flows through our body.

You need blood like I do, don't you
I can tell by the way you look, when I'm looking at you
You need blood like I do, don't you
It seems like I'm looking at your veins, when I'm looking at you

Living in Baltimore in the 80’s at the beginning of the AIDS crisis, I saw more needles in the streets than I could care to count. The cases of people contracting the HIV virus were being connected to blood supplies. Drug addicts exchan

ged sex for a drug fix. Addicts were sharing dirty needles. Needle exchange programs started popping up. Now this precious gift of life was becoming the gift of death from a new virus spread through blood.

New processes and filtering the blood supply became standard to dispel the panic that was spreading through hospitals across the nation. Hemophiliacs were getting HIV from blood supplies and these were children who never had sex or did drugs. Things were changing.

The first change I remember was at a Black Expo USA in the early 90’s. The Black Expo was a great place to target African-American consumers. It was a traveling show that showcased art, culture, music, crafts, and fashion as well as health awareness. I lined up as usual to the Red Cross booth to give blood. I read the information card which basically said if you had taken intravenous drugs or had homosexual sex, your volunteer efforts would not be required. At the same time it reassured people the blood was checked a

nd tested and was completely safe. I was confused. I had passed my HIV test. Should I give blood anyway and not check off the “homosexual sex” category? I became frustrated and walked away. Hell I can buy my own juice and cookies. I stopped giving blood.

Years later I was working at a hotel and the HR department was doing a blood drive among employees. There was huge number of immigrants with poor English speaking skills and very few people were signing up to donate blood. They were sending representatives to each department exerting “pressure” (or explain how safe the process is) to employees.

My married heterosexual supervisor who was irritated by the intrusion made the comment, “You have the perfect “out” of the blood drive. They don’t want gay blood.” The comment did not bother me in the way you might think. I was an openly gay employee. What bothered me was my supervisor was on Craigslist setting up another lunchtime date with a (female) stranger.

From the National Prevention Information Network:

Heterosexual black men with multiple sex partners – not bisexual men who secretly have sex with men – are responsible for high rates of HIV among black women, according to a senior CDC official.

Seems like it was only yesterday

When my mama told me don't fall in love with the first guy that comes your way

He was handsome and nice but I took her advice and passed him by

Years have passed and don't look like love's gonna give me a second try

Boy the look on your face tells me you understand

Could it be your love life's like mine needs a helping hand 

Well, well you need love like I do (don't you?)