Why I’m Marching with ACT with Pride!


My first encounter with ACT (AIDS Committee of Toronto) was in its early days operating over what at  the time was a KFC take-out restaurant.  Compassion and information deep-fried!  I was still living in St. Catharines, Ontario in those days, those early days of HIV and the upstart AIDS Niagara.  I was a bit of a pamphlet junkie, always looking for a new way to convey what limited information there seemed to be about HIV and AIDS.  ACT could be counted on for a variety of ways to disseminate such information, some of it with the blessing of government funders, some with a bit more of an independent streak out of necessity.

When I moved to Toronto, ACT had also moved to 464 Yonge Street, upstairs, north of College near the RBC branch which still exists today.  There I remember wonderful healing circles taking place, Sunday evenings  as I recall, where I learned the rudiments of Buddhism, mindfulness and Louise Hay words and songs (such as “I Love Myself the Way I Am”).

It was either here, or at ACT’s next move (to its present 399 Church Street address), that I began my volunteer work as part-time receptionist, fielding calls and in-person visits, enjoying an always-friendly rapport with staff.

Highlights of my care at ACT came in the 1990s when a certain senior nurse and sex therapist would make available her guest cottage in a  beautiful spot on Lake Simcoe  to support groups from ACT for consecutive weeks at a time throughout the summer.  I traveled yearly with the Recovery Group, so-named for our mutual support as recovering alcoholics and drug addicts.  In pictures of our earliest years, I am one only a couple of members to have survived.

ACT continues to figure in my life, even though I am no longer an active volunteer.  Sometime after this holiday weekend I expect to be matched up with an ACT buddy for the first time in several years.  This will be an old experience revisited, one which I very much look forward to.  I also pledge to become involved in ACT’s regular “condom stuffing” parties for outreach work, where kits of condoms and other healthy things are stuffed into plastic bags for mass distribution.

I never think about 30+ years of ACT without being grateful for having survived just as long, while remembering with such fondness the many who haven’t.  I miss you all.



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