From the frontlines of one of the greatest human struggles of our time comes this powerful and moving tale. Both an important cultural history of the AIDS crisis and an intimate personal memoir, Stitching a Revolution is the story of a man who, besieged by discrimination, death, and despair, found the courage and strength of spirit to conceive and create a unique healing vision-the AIDS Memorial Quilt. Against the turbulent backdrop of politics and sexual liberation in San Francisco during the seventies, Jones recounts his coming-of-age alongside friend and mentor Harvey Milk -- and, later, Milk's assassination and the ensuing riots that threatened to tear down all they had accomplished. But Jones's political aspirations were put on hold after the emergence of an insidious, unexplainable "gay cancer" that would soon become known throughout the world as AIDS. Demoralized by the tide of death and despair sweeping his community, brutally assaulted by gay-bashing thugs, and faced with the specter of his own positive diagnosis, Jones sought a way to restore hope to a world falling apart beneath his feet. What started out as a simple panel of fabric stitched for his best friend now covers a space larger than twenty-five football fields and contains over eighty thousand names. The Quilt has affected the lives of many people, bridging racial, sexual, and religious barriers to unite millions in the fight against AIDS. Stitching a Revolution is a compelling, dramatic tale with a cast of memorable characters from all walks of life. At times uplifting, at times heartwrenching, this inspiring story reveals what it means to be human and how the power of love conquers all -- even death.
Cleve Jones (born October 11, 1954) is an American AIDS and LGBT rights activist. He conceived the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt, which has become, at 54 tons, the world's largest piece of community folk art as of 2016. In 1983, at the onset of the AIDS pandemic Jones co-founded the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, which has grown into one of the largest and most influential People with AIDS advocacy organizations in the United States.
In 2000, my life changed when someone close to me revealed they were HIV-positive. While I was never at risk [as a result of their status], I started to see more closely the stigma still surrounding HIV. In 2001, I resolved to make a difference and joined the world of AIDS activism. I registered for my first charity bike ride, from Minneapolis to Chicago, despite the fact that I did not own a bicycle. Over the years, I went on to complete nine such rides, including San Francisco to Los Angeles. I worked at an AIDS service organization. I walked. And walked some more. I volunteered. I raised, and donated, money. But it never quite seemed enough. More friends tested positive. How can we do more?
A few months ago, I attended an event with author Cleve Jones. If that's not a familiar name, Cleve worked with Harvey Milk, co-founded the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, and conceived of the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt. His 2016 memoir, "When We Rise: My Life in the Movement," has since inspired a television miniseries. Jones' earlier book, “Stitching a Revolution: The Making of an Activist” (2000), contains the same core ideas, but goes into greater detail with the quilt and the early years of AIDS.
As an activist and organizer, Jones saw the quilt as a weapon — the manifestation of failure on the part of politicians and the media. He also thought the quilt could function as a work of art therapy for those grieving. Quilt panels continue to be produced to this day, throughout the world — a reminder that our work is not yet done.
Naturally, there is overlap between the two books, but I read them back to back (out of order) and didn’t mind the duplication. “When We Rise” is perhaps a better packaged literary product, although I was disappointed in its inclusion of just two photos. Alternatively, “Stitching a Revolution” includes eight pages of photos, as well as a deeper focus on the life of the quilt and those early years when so much was still unknown.
One complaint I have read in reviews of “When We Rise” concerns Jones’ mentions of casual sex and illegal drug use. He often includes names and seemingly extraneous details. Even if readers find this annoying, I’d encourage them to continue through to the end. These pages contain the experiences of one man, as he progressed from a depressed and suicidal gay teen to an historic figure in the world of AIDS activism. It is additionally a memoir of a time, and of a place, and holds value as such. Jones' interactions helped to define who he is as an individual, and helped him to find the greater community to which he belongs. Social interactions are implicit in community, and each name helps to put a face on our shared world; this is the fundamental idea behind the AIDS quilt.
- - - When We Rise, Acknowledgments, page 291: “This book is not intended as a history of the LGBT movement. It is not an autobiography, but a memoir — a collection of memories of people I knew, events I witnessed, and struggles that continue. […] the stories I wanted most to tell were of the years before the plague, when we were still young and unaware of the horror — and the triumph — yet to come. My generation is disappearing; I want the new generations to know what our lives were like, what we fought for, what we lost, and what we won.”
When We Rise, Acknowledgments, page 289: “I coauthored a memoir about the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt called ‘Stitching a Revolution’ that was published in 2000, but I wasn’t satisfied with the work. The fifteen years that followed were an extraordinary time for me and for the movement; there was more to write about."
One of the most inspiring books I ever read. I had the honor of meeting Cleve Jones when he came to speak at my university several years ago. He is an activist-hero and a living legend in the AIDS community. The story of Cleve Jones, as reflected in his book, brings back horrible memories of a surreal time. However, seeing the Memorial Quilt, touching it, remembering, feeling it all again - is Cleve Jones's sad but brilliant gift to those of us who were there to witness or who tried to relieve the suffering, and for future generations who cannot be allowed to forget. A beautiful book of love, indescribable loss, and hope.
Completely recommend. I picked this up to learn some context of the time after watching The Times of Harvey Milk, and did not expect such a central perspective at the ground zero of things. Wow. Had me crying on the subway many times. Essential.
I purchased this book, Stitching A Revolution about six years ago because I was very inspired by the work of Cleve Jones. He spoke at my school, The Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality, and showed us videos and gave accounts of what the AIDS Memorial Quilt was about.
stitching2I hadn’t heard about the AIDS Memorial Quilt in United States at all because I’m Singaporean. As he began to share more of the story and showed us the videos and accounts, my classmates and I began to cry. I knew that this was a book that I had to read. Low and behold, years flew by as I got caught up with my work and there was always something more important, more urgent to do.
When I finally picked up this book recently, it was almost as if I continued where I left off with Jones. This book is written from his perspective as creator of the AIDS Memorial Quilt. He wrote about the story of the quilt in the context of his own political evolution, his activism for gay rights, the growth of the quilt, and later his personal struggle with AIDS.
I thought the book was only about the quilt. However, Jones also talked about the back story of how the quilt came about. He was working at the forefront of the gay rights movement in San Francisco during the 1970s, becoming involved in politics through gay San Francisco supervisor Harvey Milk. After Milk and San Francisco mayor, George Moscone were murdered in 1971, Jones organized annual candlelight marches in their memory. stitching1One of the events accumulated with marchers writing the names of the people who died of AIDS on cardboard placards, and this came to Jones as a form of epiphany that it should be in the form of a quilt made of panels memorializing individuals who had fallen victim to the AIDS epidemic.
One of the pivotal moments in the book was when Bill Clinton and Hilary Clinton visited the AIDS Memorial Quilt and they were the first presidents of the United States who did so. Since then, this movement has really been continuing and I can see from their Facebook page that the quilt is still very much alive and making its way around the U.S., raising awareness and publicity for the cause of HIV prevention.
I found the book revealing. Jones’ account may have been tempered by his ego and struggle to relinquish personal control of the quilt project. However he was first to admit his own failings and it’s very personal. What I liked most about the book were the anecdotes of the individual people who came from all walks of life and how they were brought together and transformed by the quilt. For instance, the quiet dignified mother from Appalachia who took the bus from San Francisco to deliver a panel for her son; the U.S. Marine and his wife from Texas who memorialized their sons’ friends. There were even people who sewed in ashes into the quilt.
These stories really hit an emotional nerve in me and I couldn’t help but start tearing at several of the stories. HIV is not something that only affects people who are gay. It affects people who love them and people who are not gay as well. The project helped to unify a whole nation and helped in the grieving process for many of the family members. I really recommend this book to people who would like to understand the historical evolution of the gay rights movement as well as better understand the importance of the continuation of HIV prevention.
I read Cleve Jones' latest book, 'When We Rise' first, so a lot of information in this older book wasn't new to me. This book goes into much more detail about his dreaming up the AIDS quilt and the NAMES Project, and it's inspiring. Mr. Jones and others worked so hard to give attention to the epidemic, because their friends were dying and they were sick and not many people were paying attention. They successfully - and peacefully and with grace! - brought attention to the struggle with a beautiful tribute.
Learned a lot about gay culture during the AIDs crisis and activist efforts in the Castro district in San Francisco. I noticed my cyncism reading the somewhat exuberant utopian musings in the epilogue, probably having lived through years of Covid at this point. Having some knowledge of Dean Spade's writings, I'm skeptical of gay assimilation into neoliberal governance and nonprofit structures. I do appreciate the vision of hope.
If you are interested in reading about GLBT history, then you should add this to your reading list. Cleve Jones was a friend of Harvey Milk's and the founder of the AIDS Memorial Quilt. He tells his story, including the assassination of Harvey Milk and how the AIDS quilt was started, created and shown throughout the country. If you are an activist, this is a definite must read. Cleve was there in the early days and has quite the story to tell and we all could learn a lot from him.