Let Us Give Blood!

In January, the American Red Cross proclaimed its first ever “blood crisis.” Boston-area hospitals have established priority protocols should available blood become scarce. My response to this humanitarian challenge: Tough Nuggies to the homophobic Red Cross.

Forty-five years ago, as a dutiful college undergraduate, I received a gallon-pin from the Red Cross. Then another. My college held blood drives every eight weeks. I laid on a cot and held out my arm every time.

Thirty-seven years ago, at the height of AIDS-mongering fear, the Red Cross stopped taking blood donations from any man who had sex with another man.

Twenty-eight years ago was the first time that my wish to donate blood clashed with this prohibition. I answered ‘yes’ to the man-on-man sex question on my intake form at a blood donation site, and was declined. I got angry, charged the reception desk, argued that this was 1994, that means of transmission were well established. The grey-haired volunteer clutched her pearls as I denounced the Red Cross’ blanket policy that ignored levels of sexual risk. I stomped away in disgust. I daresay the intake lady was glad to see me go.

When the Red Cross stopped wanting my blood, I stopped giving them my greenbacks as well.