A human formation of the AIDS ribbon.

A human formation of the AIDS ribbon. Credit: Getty Images

I am continually mystified at media images and sound bites focused on gun violence. On nearly any given day, you can turn on the TV and see coverage of a new mass shooting in America -- the latest in a never-ending string of incidents. Hours later, our nation's leaders are out at the microphones, expressing our collective sorrow. And then the ephemeral pictures and words fade away, just in time for the next commercial break.

"What is happening to us?" begins the water-cooler conversation the next day. "Americans have faced other human tragedies before and found a way to make an impact."

Advocates working to prevent gun violence should consider taking a page from the playbook of the HIV/AIDS awareness movement. That activism was born of the AIDS Memorial Quilt (The NAMES Project Foundation) and the powerful group Act-Up in the 1980s. At a time when there was little, if any, government action to fight a disease ravaging the gay community, NAMES Project founder Cleve Jones decided that the best way to combat HIV/AIDS and raise awareness was to memorialize each person who had died.

In essence, by naming the dead, it took away the anonymity that fueled the lack of response. The people lost were no longer those "queers" from New York or San Francisco, but rather our brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, uncles, cousins, friends, and neighbors. While HIV/AIDS has continued to take its toll 30 years into the epidemic, the AIDS Memorial Quilt sparked a movement that has led to making great headway in keeping the disease at bay and given rise to other organizations that research treatments, help the afflicted and ultimately look for a cure.

Act-Up, led by the force of Larry Kramer, demanded attention to the matter by drawing a line in the sand. Whether you were with them or against them, Kramer made it clear: No one was going anywhere without confronting the truth about how our country was neglecting the human tragedy surrounding us.

Taking it a step further, gun violence prevention activists should not only end the anonymity of gun violence victims and celebrate their lives, but they also can name and shame those who have created a climate that allows gun violence to flourish: NRA leaders, gun manufacturers that produce assault weapons, and lawmakers who have repeatedly failed to pass common sense gun measures. We must unmask the bullies and shout the names of those now shielded by anonymity.

When addressing the most recent mass shooting that occurred in Oregon, President Barack Obama, exasperated at yet another gun tragedy, said: "My response here at this podium ends up being routine . . . We've become numb to this. We talked about this after Columbine and Blacksburg, after Tucson, after Newtown, after Aurora, after Charleston. It cannot be this easy for somebody who wants to inflict harm on other people to get his or her hands on a gun."

It is time to begin strategizing a new "Quilt moment" to set in motion massive gun reform once and for all.

Andre Gutierrez leads a National Youth Outreach Campaign for "The Last One," a documentary about the AIDS Memorial Quilt. He is director of brand strategy/partnerships at Red Thread Productions, the New York City company behind the film. This is excerpted from the piece he wrote for The Advocate.

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