Day 22 - Arkansas - The Living Affected Corp - Revisited

For having just three and four letters respectively, HIV and AIDS are two very scary words, if I may call them words and not acronyms. At this point in our trip, we had worked with five organizations that counted HIV/AIDS among their primary focuses, if not the primary purpose of the organization. Some organizations provided food to person with HIV/AIDS and their families. Others provided home and care. Living With, Affected By, among others, provided awareness.

I have a clear memory of when I first learned about HIV/AIDS, in early grade school. When I ask friends, those who grew up in areas outside of San Francisco, they tell me that they don’t remember hearing about it that early on, let alone learning about it in school (For instance, Tim remembers first hearing about HIV right before high school). But, I distinctly remember talking about it, in the classroom, nonetheless. I remember the mobiles hanging from the ceiling spinning as I looked up and them, realizing in some way that the conversation that we were having was very serious and that I was learning something that was perhaps too mature for me to understand, given I was still little enough to be required to wear knee socks to school, but that I needed to try, with all the might in my little body, to pay attention, because this was important, was going to affect my life, and wasn’t going away.

It may be due to the fact it was San Francisco in the early 90s. The city was buzzing (well, always is buzzing), with cultural undercurrents from the past 40 some-odd years slowly rocking the city, causing it to bob and shift, much like a buoy in the bay. In some ways SF is defined by its make up – it’s demographics: the Mission, the Haight, China town, the Sunset, the Castro. In fact, when I arrived as a freshman at college, one of the most frequently asked questions was “So you are from San Francisco? Are you gay?” (and this was from people attending a school that frequently featured granola on the menu, if you get my drift). But, for whatever reason, I was conscious of the disease and it’s progression from an early point, and saw evidence of it around me. I knew people who were suffering through it, suffering because of it. It clung to the headlines. It seemed to be everywhere.

But then, it was gone.

Just like that. I am not sure if it was a slow progression, or if one day, “poof!”, everyone stopped talking about it, but it was a one day a huge crisis, and the next, a different topic had taken the forefront, had upstaged HIV/AIDS. Maybe it was because I became an uncaring creep in high school (very kind words for what I became, but then again, high school is a confusing place, full of uncaring creeps who, for the most part, eventually grow out of it and become caring adults) and was unable to see outside the me-specific realm. Or, maybe it was less pervasive in the area of the country in which I went to college. Or, maybe it was the fact that better treatments were introduced that extended the average lifespan of a person who is HIV positive (this, of course, is if they promptly receive treatment, take care of themselves, etc). Or, it maybe it is because of any number of factors that caused people to exhale slightly, to let their guard down and to stop talking about it.

But it has not gone away – not in the slightest (though, during our trip, we did hear someone report that they interacted with a number of teens who thought there was a CURE, so if they got it, they could make it go away...which is SCARY). In fact, it is on the rise in a number of populations. And in these communities, people are struggling with how to deal with this problem - to make people see that this is an issue that won't go away and needs to be addressed immediately.

Living With, Affected By is comprised of men and women dedicated to raising awareness for HIV/AIDS in Arkansas. The organization is dedicated to develop and conduct educational outreach to include HIV prevention, as well as sexual health, domestic violence and peer relations. And these wonderful people are afraid - afraid that we will stop talking. Afraid that awareness will further decline, whisked away by the chaperon of silence.

Though we spent the day there, very engaged and with them, I don’t count what we did that day as our service to the organization. Yes, we volunteered our time. But I count this as our service – telling you that we need to not forget that this is prevalent, this is a problem, and this is very, very real. Like hunger, like homelessness, like the multitude of very current, and very frightening issues we are facing, we can’t stop talking about it. We need to keep talking and keep each other aware. So we are starting the conversation. And we invite you - no, beg you - to do the same.