Entries from December 2004 ↓

Thousands of Americans living with HIV/AIDS have access to treatment and benefits thanks to a federal act named for an Indiana teenager. The Ryan White CARE Act is one of the single most important laws written in response to the epidemic, but few people know much about it.

This article from The Body not only takes a comprehensive look it but explains why it still may not be enough to help all of those in need.

December 1, 2004 is World AIDS Day, and for the first time since this global day of recognition began in 1988, the impact of the virus on the lives of women is the focus. Judging by the statistics, it is easy to see why.

According to the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS, close to half of the 37.2 million adults living with HIV are women. As infection rates climb and spread to even more regions of the world, women continue to bear a heavy burden. The number of HIV-positive women in East Asia jumped by 56% in the past year alone, and in Africa nearly 60% of all HIV infections are among women. In sub-Saharan Africa, three out of every four HIV-positive youths are women.

For both biological and sociological reasons, women are at risk. As a disease spread quite easily through sexual contact and the exchange of bodily fluids, a woman is simply more susceptible to HIV than a man. But because women do not have the same rights and privileges, nor access to employment, property and education as men, they are also more likely to face sexual violence, which can accelerate the spread of HIV.

Effectively addressing the world AIDS crisis requires that we deal not only with the health aspects, but also economic and political inequities. Unless all of us begin to value, support and empower women everywhere to protect themselves from infection and realize their lives to the fullest potential, the pandemic will increasingly exact a disproportionate toll.

Here are links to information on the state of Women and HIV, both domestically and internationally.

Writer Nadine Gordimer and a personally selected literary A-list have created a new anthology whose profits will go to a southern African organization that helps people with AIDS and H.I.V. A recent New York Times article revealed how this team of artist-activists came together.

Meanwhile dance critic and writer David Gere has written a new book, How to Make Dances in an Epidemic: Tracking Choreography in the Age of AIDS which looks at both the impact of AIDS on the dance community and the dance community’s creative response. This Village Voice article reviews the book.

by Mark Tuggle

I wanted to offer a more personal observation on this World AIDS Day, but didn’t feel I had the proper perspective. So I have invited a friend to write a guest column and tell his story. –BT

When I think about World AIDS Day, I feel a mixture of sadness for my friends and acquaintances whose lives have been cut short due to this illness, as well as a sense of gratitude for my ongoing healing, prosperity and survival. Through grace, I live with AIDS. I am blessed, and, very happy today. How is that possible?

I was diagnosed almost ten years ago. The smell of death frightened me. I felt ashamed, dirty, paranoid and unattractive. The social stigma attached to this disease is demonizing. I was terrified of being exposed. The resulting anxiety was enough for me to try holistic health, support groups and therapy as coping mechanisms. Thank God for Medicaid.

Fortunately, I knew a few folks who were living quite comfortably with AIDS. I had friends who offered simple suggestions that worked in their lives: always wear a t-shirt, drink plenty of water daily, learn how to say no, take naps and walk slowly. I was pleased with their support, yet unsure of my future; am I really going to wake up tomorrow?

As a same gender-loving man of African descent, the reality of homophobia and racism compounded my fears. I was expected to “uplift the race.” I was taught that God would condemn me for my sinful desire. Sorting through the confusion and contradiction of my life became an internal challenge that drained my precious energy. My t-cells plummeted to 57. I was scared, and settled for cable tv, fast food, Internet porn and new clothes.

The fear of rejection haunted my wounded spirit. I believed that no man would find me desirable. How do you tell a potential friend, mate or sex partner that you live with the big disease with the little name? What were my real motives for disclosure? Why does another man’s opinion loom so large in a seemingly small horizon? Self-obsession had me imprisoned. I learned you don’t have to go to jail to feel like you are behind bars.

What a difference a day makes.

The weekly HIV-positive support groups were inspiring. I got hope from the courageous stories of men and women from all walks of life who talked about compassionate doctors, empathetic friends and supportive relatives. My doctor taught me how the virus affects my compromised immune system and what I can do to stay healthy. I felt safe sharing emotional pain with my therapist. My soul awakened to life’s endless possibilities.

About eighteen months after my diagnosis, I traveled home to Chicago to share my illness with my family. While I got mixed reactions, the general response was, “Are you going to be ok?” I felt good, and later decided to devote my time and energy to helping people live with HIV and AIDS. I worked diligently in the AIDS community for six years. The experience was rewarding, but highly stressful. I needed to move on.

A few years ago, I decided to pursue a career as an independent filmmaker. Yes, I hate Hollywood. In the interim, I have become a published writer. Dating has challenged my fears of abandonment, commitment and intimacy. I am able to trust today. Whitney says, “learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.” AIDS has no known cure. The best defense is a life worth living. I am happy, and that is enough for me.

Mark J. Tuggle is a freelance writer living in Harlem, USA. His most recent work can be found in the CITIZEN; POZ and PULSE. Contact him at mjt579@msn.com.