“There are so few people who un
derstand what it is like to have
a virus that you can’t control,
emotions that you can’t control
because sometimes you are so
upset, panicky or depressed or
anxious. ”
— Rodney A. Bell II, UNL alumnus
-♦
-fm
David Badders/DN
HIV teaches strength
Former UNL
By Stacey McKenzie
It takes guts to reveal you’re gay, and
it takes even more to re veal you have
the virus that causes AIDS.
Rodney A. Bell II hasn’t cloaked
his sexuality for 10 years. But in 1990,
positive results from his HIV test forced
him into a lonely privacy and shrunk all
that was significant in nis life.
Friends called less.
Anxiety-free hours were few.
Income plunged
until government aid
became his only source.
And freedoms were
taken
^^^F Most significantly,
the number of Rodney’s
T-4 cells, which help
^ the body fight off in
fection, dropped from 1,280 in 1990 to 500
in 1991 and now to 368.
At the same time, anxiety and anger
began to escalate.
A new courage and confidence also
grew, Rodney says, makinghim take new
risks, such as allowing his name to be
used in this article.
Even though it will create new dan
gers in his life, Rodney says he wants his
name in the article because he likes things
out in the open.
“I like to be out of the so-called closet on
everything.”
The 30-year-old is quite familiar
with the University of Nebraska
Lincoln. He came to UNL in 1983
and graduated with a bachelor’s
degree in political science in 1987.
During his university years, Rodney
fought for eaual rights for gays, lesbians
ana bisexuals and served as president of
the Gay/Lesbian Student Association from
1985-1987. He was an advocate for Stu
dent Condom Day, started a GLSA re
source center in tne Nebraska Union,
created several programs and fund-rais
ers and received the Sue Tidball Award
for Creative Humanity in 1986 for build
ing bridges between the gay and lesbian
community and the heterosexual com
munity.
Following graduation, he was chair
man ofthe GLSA Alumni Association and
worked for the Lancaster Office of Men
tal Retardation. He then was a case
worker at the Nebraska Department of
Social Services and took classes toward a
master’s degree in educational psychol
ogy with the intention of being a coun
selor.
But all of this was halted by the virus.
In March of 1990 Rodney decided to
get tested for HIV. He also had been
tested in 1989.
“I just did it as kind of a measure
because, I d6n’t know, everybody had
been sexual up until that point — ex
tremely sexual/* ,
Even in 1989, Rodney says, there wasn t
a whole lot of concern or caution when it
came to sex.
“I really don’t believe there is now, in
Nebraska.”
student learns hard lessons while trying to cope with having HIV
Caution hasn’t increased even though
AIDS education has, he says, because
many people don’t realize the circum
stances that can lead to infection.
“Most people acquire HIV sexually
through a lack of thinking at the time.
They get over-involved sexually. That’s
why I think it’s important thatheterosex
ual men wake up.”
Even the gay community needs to wake
up, Rodney says.
“I don’t think there is a fear (of HIV)
among people who need an anonymous
setting, like the Capitol or some of the
parks or campus cruising areas. I’d say
that about half of the people probably
plain just don’t care.”
And Rodney says, in some ways, he
also thought he just wouldn’t get HIV.
“I used condoms for the most part,” he
says. But, he explained, “If you’re feeling
low — and being gay is rough enough,
you do things like alcohol, and alcohol
inhibits your sensibility.
“But after you know that you have the
virus, and you know that you have to
scratch out people in your phone book
and put deceased or whatever, you start
realizing how real and human you are.”
Rodney sighs, pauses and then de
scribes what went through his
mind when he was diagnosed
HIV positive: “It is just psycho
logically stunning and it creates a feeling
of numbness. It goes through stages of
acceptance. Sometimes, you forget that
you are, you have a day at least that you
can forget that you are. And it’s so nice.”
n i_i. _ r aL. j_aL.a /v 11_]
iiut muat ui uic uaja uiat iuiiuwcu
Rodney’s diagnosis were not nice. They
were filled with anxiety and depression
— four months of depression, staying
away from people and staying inside his
apartment.
Rodney had stopped trusting people.
“You try to, but you get stung?1 ne says.
“It’s like a closet, see, that you come out
of. You tell one person and it just has a
chain effect.... I think it’s a way of being
nosey. It’s just not really for any purpose
of compassion.”
Because it seemed that fewer people
cared about him, Rodney started to care
less about himself.
“There are psychological manifesta
tions in dealing with the virus. Depres
sion. You don’t want to eat. You develop
an attitude of *Who cares?1”
Not caring meant not working. Rod
ney quit his job and supported himself
with Supplementary Security Income of
about $427 a month.
“Some people work longer during the
AIDS symptoms. Some people are un
able, psychologically.”
The psychological distress was worse
than the physical distress, Rodney says.
Anger and sadness were the prevailing
feelings, but the depression and even
suicidal feelings could be overwhelming.
“Suicide is not a far, distant thought,”
he says. “For me. it’s a thought process.
Some people make plans. I don t make
plans. I just feel that way.”
After the heavy depression subsided a
bit, Rodney says, he learned to do what
ever it took to make him feel comfortable.
Help came in the form of inspirational
tapes such as “Your Inner Child” and
“Music That Disappears,” daily medita
tion, phone calls and visits, hugs, com
munication with other HIV-positive people,
anti-depression medication, counselors
and psychiatrists.
“I used to wake up in the morning,
scared as hell, crying and calling up the
psychiatrist at UNL,” he says. “So, (the
psychiatrist) helped me eventually.”
A normal day included sleeping late, at
least until noon. He also smoked and
drank and didn’t care much about what
he ate, even though he knew a healthy
diet could help fignt HIV.
“After you test positive you start think
ing, ‘What’s there to live for? Who cares?’
You’re going to die anyway.
“So you get in kind of this fog and you
don’t know what to do so the problems
you get into are ... self-defeating behav
iors, same idea as suicidal, and it really is
sort of suicidal because you get punished.
or a while, Rodney’s self-defeat
I i’ ing behavior got out of control.
■ » “I got to a point where I was
drinking, I drank a whole bunch
one night and my best friend, who is like
a brother, basically — dumped me. So I
ended up in this neighborhood and I don’t
remember everything that happened. But
I was in jail for disturbing the peace.”
As more and more of Rodney’s T-4 cells
stopped fighting infection, he started
rebelling against society. Finally, he jeop
ardized his freedom and it was taken
away.
On Feb. 14, Rodney was sentenced to
two years of confinement under the
Nebraska Department of Correctional
Services for attempted burglary and sec
ond-degree forgery.
In September, Rodney found a book
bag on tne UNL campus. The book bag
had, among other things, a checkbook in
it. Rodney wrote out several of the checks
and forged the signature on them.
At the time, there was nothing to lose
by writing the checks, Rodney says. “In
my mind, I thought I was going to die
anyway, so it didn’t matter.
The attempted burglary also occurred
in September. Rodney broke into a Lin
coln thrift store. Someone spotted him
crawling into the store window and called
the police, who found him there.
Because he had to cover a check he had
previously written, Rodney says, he broke
into the store to find something to sell.
“It was irrational but at the same time
overpowering.”The offenses were just
part of what Rodney calls “the psychoso
cial considerations of being HIV-positive."
Rodney alluded to his charges in an
interview before his sentencing.
“Some people get in trouble, for ex
ample, a young man is an alcoholic, he
goes through the psychological effects of
finding out (he has the virus), illegal
activity, aggressive behavior — things
that aren’t like the character that person
was.”
Rodney says having HIV does not jus
tify his criminal behavior.
“I don’t know. I think a lot of it is, at
least the people I know of, they have a lot
more support. A lot of them have family
that care. They’re not financially deprived.”
Family never makes the top of Rod
ney’s support list because Rod
ney’s family is one of the tougher
things he’snad to deal with in his
life.
Rodney says he is “an adult child of an
alcoholic and from a dysfunctional fam
ily.” Also, one of Rodney’s brothers com
mitted suicide in the mid-1980s.
So even when it comes to family
members, Rodney has had to be selective
about who he told about his HIV diagno
sis.
“Some family you don’t tell,” he said
before his sentencing. Ideally, Rodney
says, he would like put out a newsletter of
sorts, explaining to all of his family that
he has HIV. But, he says, some family
just wouldn’t be able to handle the news.
Rodney’s mother has known for a year
that he has HIV.
“She’s better than me in terms of her
mental health. I’m surprised. I thought it
was biochemical in some ways.”
None of his siblings know.
And his father and grandmother didn’t
know.
But since goinfe to prison, Rodney has
written long letters to his father and
grandmother, telling both that he has
He wrote in the letter to his grand
mother, “Don’t tell me that it’s God’s
punishment. A true Christian loves
people.”
ruxmey s iarner Knew noanev was gay,
but when he learned from the letter tnat
Rodney had HIV, he stopped taking phone
calls from him.
Even more frustrating, Rodney says,
is that family and friends who knew he
was HIV positive before he went to prison
have shut down communication. Part of
the reason for this, he says, may be the
stigma associated with prison visits.
®Some of my friends won’t come be
cause they have to fill out that much
personal information. Some people don’t
like the idea of visiting a place with
locked doors. You lose a Tot of friends.”
Rodney has had only two visitors since
he was sentenced. So he tries to get sup
port through the mail.
But, he says, “People just aren’t writ
ing me.”
“There’s a lot of isolation right now,
people putting the freeze on me. But I’m
finding support in my own creative ways.”
Rodney spends much of his lock-down
time, or time confined to his cell, writing
requests to the prison warden to create
HI V/AIDS and gay support groups and to
distribute condoms.
There is a need for these things, he
says, because he’s heard that there are
25-30 inmates with HIV in the Lincoln
Correctional Center.
“It’s just not fair that you have no
control. That’s the hardest part of going
in here.”
To keep his mind occupied Rodney fills
his days by dreaming, thinking about
concerns other than HIV, studying legal
material, writing in his journal and
“putting up with a shitty counselor...” he
said.
“I was honest with the (prison) coun
selor, I told her that I didn’t think she and
I hit it off.
“There’s no way she could understand
me because she’s not in my body, she
doesn’t understand my emotions. And
there is no one on my unit that I’m aware
of that I could talk to about HIV.”
And, he says, “there are so few people
who understand what it is like to nave a
virus that you can’t control, emotions
that you can’t control because sometimes
you are so upset, panicky or depressed or
anxious. And it’s even worse in (prison)
because you have no one to talk to.”
Some inmates have questioned Rod
ney about what his medication is for.
“I tell them, Well, depression, anxiety
... a vitamin, to help me sleep. .. .”
Even with the successful put-offs about
his medication, Rodney says, he still fears
some of the other inmates.
“They tease me episodically about being
gay in roundabout ways like ‘tinkerbelf
and ‘pinky’ and all these stupid names.
So I respond, Well, what (name) am I
going to call you?’
“Before all this letter writing that I
did, an inmate sprayed window cleaner
on my food. So I told the guard. That can
be dangerous too because you’re seen as
a nark.
But noaney cans nis prison time
“just part of my higher education.
“I think that’s a healthy way to
look at it.
“The biggest lesson of all is that I’m in
here to get out of here.”
And when he does get out, Rodney
says, he will go to Kansas City, which has
become his Mecca.
Rodney has been given hope by a man
living in Leavenworth, Kan., which is
about 30 minutes outside of Kansas City.
The man, who responded to an advertise
ment for friends placed by Rodney, has
offered Rodney a job and a place to stay
once he gets out of prison.
“I tola him that I was HIV positive so
that he doesn’t get sexually excited.”
Before getting the virus, Rodney made
about 10 trips a year to Kansas City and
for the past two years has attended the
annual Gay and Lesbian Pride Parade
and Picnic.
This year’s parade will be on June 22.
Rodney says he is hopeful of getting
parole or being put in community cus
tody. which both would allow him more
freedom.
“I may or I may not be there. I think I
might.”
And when he does get out, Rodney
says, smoking, drinking and criminal
behavior won’t be an option.
The reason?
“Freedom is very important to
»
me.
