Abstract
Mike Edwards grew up in a small town knowing he wasn't like the other boys. He felt wrong, isolated. Once, on a trip with his parents, he jammed his face between the seats in the back of the car and prayed God to please not let me be this way, please please please let me change, let me change, and I never would change.' He graduated from high school in 1967, left town, found other gay men, and sort of went crazy. He stabilized, came out, and became an established artist working in clay wall sculpture. In 1984 a friend who had saved him from a college suicide attempt died so quickly from AIDS that Edwards had no chance visit him. He continued his sculpture, trying become a star, a great artist. But in October 1987 he joined thousands of others in Washington for the March for Gay and Lesbian Rights. Looking from the Capitol, as far as he could see,
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