I Am Here for the New Year!!

When I was young I would look along with everyone else as Dick Clark started the countdown to the new year. 5,4,3,2,1....Happy New Year! As everyone was celebrating the New Year I was celebrating that I was still here. For me the New Year was my marker on how much time I had on this earth and was I going to be here to welcome in another new year?

In the early years of having HIV I didn't see a future for myself past 30. I was 18 when I was infected and back then unlike today it seemed more likely you would die then live a longer life with a manageable routine of medication.

Of course when it seems like you have a ticking clock over your head you become reckless and have a feeling of 'what's the point'. I was in that place. I stopped dreaming and going after goals. Instead of making a To-do list my list consisted of destructive behaviors that went against who I truly was deep inside. Yet how could I show people who I was inside when I didn't even give myself permission to look within.

It was years of spinning my wheels going nowhere just waiting for the Grim Reaper to finally get to my name on the list. In the meantime I let my anger of the situation guide me and I truly become that slogan, "hurt people, hurt people". Not realizing the only person I was hurting was myself.

Before I knew it Dick Clark was dropping the ball again, then again, then again and the death that I thought was waiting for me seemed to have forgotten about me. I had my awakening moment when I realized that; hey I'm not going anywhere.

It was then I told myself I can stay in this moment of pain and keep holding my breath or look at the gift of life that I was given. Others around me had passed on to a higher plane but I was still here. I was still living with the gift that God had given me, which was the ability to wake up each day with everything functioning. The gift of life.

I'm here.

I couldn't use the excuse of my status for why I was not going after my dreams, especially when all this time God was telling me, "I'm not done with you"

Since I had my waking moment and put my life in drive and dealt with all the internal and external forces that were holding back, I started to move. When I started to release the people who were draining my positivity and started to surround myself with positivity, things started to change. When I looked in the mirror and started to look at the greatness and not the flaws, I started to grow into myself. When I accepted myself and made no more excuse for my flaws, I started to see me.

Now it felt that each New Year was not one of holding on to grief and 'shoulda, coulda' woulda's'. It was now a time for me to say, this is what I'm going to do and it's going to get done. I see why the New Year is represented by a young baby and an old man. The young represents the rebirth of who we are and the old man represents the letting go of old issues that is old and gone and should no longer be part of us.

More than a resolution, it was a promise that I was going to live my life the best I could despite what was living in me as I was the one truly in control. Health, eating habits, friends they were in the front seat and negativity, drama and grudges they were dropped, just like the ball in Times Square.

So I celebrate not only the arrival of each year but also the ability to awake for each day. I truly am blessed and when the ball drops this year I recognize my gift and will join the chorus of others and shout out loud....

Happy New Year!!!

Coal for Christmas

Do you remember when you was a child and you dreamed that underneath the Christmas tree amongst the wrapped packages was the one toy item you've been hinting at wanting. You truly felt you deserved it as all year you've been on your best behavior and followed all the rules, so in your heart you hope you're being rewarded for your efforts.

The time comes to unwrap the gift and instead of the action figure or doll you receive a pair of tube socks.

Damn!

All that hard work for nothing!

Well this year the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene handed out not tube sock but something even worse than coal. For many HIV prevention organizations in NYC, they gave those hard working HIV agencies a fifty percent cut in funding effective 2012.

The cuts were based on the CDC's recognition of achievement in testing, prevention and linkage to care. In other words, "Since you're doing so good, you don't need much of our help' So because HIV agencies came up with creative initiatives to get people aware of their health they are in essence getting punished for it.

A question can be asked, especially if you're looking at NYC what neighborhoods are you looking at that rates are going down, Chelsea? Because in other areas of the city, especially improvised neighborhoods, HIV rates for young African American and Latino men and women are going up.    

Research indicates that HIV and Syphilis rates are 140 times higher among MSM in NYC compared to other populations. HIV rates are also increasing for women of color, representing 95.3% of new HIV infections, yet somehow, somewhere, somebody who has alphabets behind their names and have never set foot in the affect neighborhoods, except maybe for a photo op, has decided that the sun is out so we can all put away the umbrellas.

This is a huge step back and a slap in the face to people who have hustled to get people in to test, learn about stigma and invest in their care. Many soldiers stood on the front line in this battle and because of the cuts in 2012 already some of those soldiers have been fired or relieved of their duty just in time for the holidays.

As an agency that receives funding from NYCDOHMH this can be seen as biting the hand that feeds you, but I truly feel that if these cuts are implemented and attention is not made then all the work that has been done will slowly evaporate and if it means biting that hand, then so be it as this cannot go unnoticed.

And I'm truly not trying to go there but if it was gay white men dying and experiencing growing rates of infection, would we even be having this conversation. It seems the bus for marriage equality is the engine that drives most attention and funding while HIV amongst people of color is trailing in the caboose, an afterthought if thought at all.

So thank you NYCDOHMH for the coal this holiday season and maybe you'll have a visit by the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future and in that future you will see the mistake you're making.

One can only hope.

In the meantime for those affected by the rising rates, don't drink the Kool-Aid and think we can let our guard down. This virus is still here and it's not going anywhere anytime soon despite what is said from the mountain tops on high!  

Where the F#@K Am I At?

I remember a time when online was a big part of my encounters, or to be politically correct, my dating life. Young people may not relate to the old form of technology before connecting to the internet where web pages loaded in seconds. They may not know what the sound of a modem connecting to your phone line is as a high pitch screech welcomed you followed by a web page that took literally minutes to connect. You could put in a web address, go get coffee and make a sandwich and still come back to see its loading. Those were the early days of the internet.

It was also a time when meeting others had transformed. No longer did you have to go to clubs or hang around a park or bookstore. You now had AOL which provided you virtual room of choices of people looking to connect.

For those who were HIV positive it was a great tool to overcome the face to face rejection of telling someone your status, as if they ended the conversation, you knew them by only their screen name so there was little emotional attachment. At the same time it was also a place to meet other people who were HIV positive as they had exclusive HIV positive chat rooms along with other interests you may be into.

That's how I met Phil. He lived in Texas and I was in Minnesota. We started chatting and sent pictures of what we looked like back and forth and soon a friendship started to form. It was also a time when I was looking to be in a relationship and having that one person I could connect with on more than a friendship level.

Phil and I had that connection and although he lived in Texas and I was thousand miles away, my cup was so empty that his words quickly filled it up. There was hesitancy because I knew that the way we were talking and getting closer one of us would have to make the sacrifice of moving from their location. Long distance relationships can happen but are usually not always successful or comes with sacrifices.

After the umptenth conversation and knowing he had a pool in his backyard and I had brown grass in mine, the conversation came about making that next step. Coming off of a cold Minnesota winter, I was willing to make that trade.

So after a quick yard sell and loading whatever I could fit in my car, I was on my way to start a new life with someone I knew only by mutual conversation. Was I in love? Especially someone who I knew from a computer monitor? Questions I should have asked myself before driving down the highway through traffic.

Unfortunately when you look for that connection to be with someone you stop listening to you inner voice. Your let your heart lead the way and put your brain on mute. Even today in our search of not wanting to be alone we leap into the waters before knowing how deep it is and what lies beneath. Yet dealing with the rejection or distance people give you based on your HIV status you sometimes settle for what you can get.

At the time I didn't think I was settling with Phil but when we moved in together, the dialogue we had on the computer was still there but that was the only thing we had in relation. I quickly learned we didn't have a physical or emotional connection and the brain finally found its voice as it helped me to realize our interest was in different places. He liked going to Home Depot every weekend (which I hated) and I liked going to the theatre (which he hated). It literally took me waking up in bed one day asking myself, "where the F#@k am I and who is this?”

This isn't to discourage online dating as there has been many successful cases of people making it work. Yet you have to use all your senses and listen to that inner voice. Words typed on a screen are only a small representation of a person. Phil was not a bad guy it was just that in person we didn't click and it took us both taking a chance and realizing that it wasn't going to work.

Everything in life is a learning lesson and shouldn't leave one bitter. Just take it for what it is. But for myself I learned that online dating is like reading a great romance novel where the language of the book is good but you don't necessarily want to sleep with the author.

But that's the great thing about life and love, we all have different experiences and without those experiences we'll never grow as a person.

Whether you're positive or negative, in the end, just like the modem we used to use, we all wanted to feel one thing; connected.

Zero Tolerence

A new initiative is looking at how we reach zero tolerance when it comes to HIV. So many definitions can fall under the zero tolerance umbrellas. There’s zero tolerance in people continuing to get infected, zero tolerance in people not accessing mental health care or zero tolerance in having an unhealthy lifestyle and watching your t-cells drop. When I think of zero tolerance first I thought about how I get older my tolerance get lower and lower, but in a serious note I think one thing that needs to be revisited is reaching zero tolerance when it comes to HIV stigma.

Although stigma has been talked about, it can never be enough as it’s still a burden that many face as well as a barrier to understanding of how to live healthy with HIV.  

25 years ago I was introduced to this disease as I discovered my status.  I was introduced to stigma early by a health nurse who visited me as at that time there were not that many infections. It was a time when I thought only white people got ‘the Monster’ (another stigma) Along with telling me how to live with HIV, she then had me get some bleach to show me how to wash down my silverware and toilet seat. Those behaviors still exists as people with HIV probably have had one incident of eating off of plastic silverware and paper plates.

In a funny way those many years ago I was less fearful of the disease and more about how people would see me and stigmatized me. It used to be that if you lost weight or were skinny you had the bug. My fear was so pronounced that even though I was always a skinny person before my HIV status, I was fearful of people seeing me and associating my weight with HIV. So I doubled up on everything. I wore two pair of pants and two shirts. I used to drink Ensure just so I could gain wait and can’t tell you how much pasta I ate. So much I’m surprised I’m not writing this in Italian.

Stigma prevented me from telling anyone, even myself. I was diagnosed by the army when I tried to join the army reserve. Even after they told me I didn’t go to the doctor because I didn’t want to walk into a building that serviced people with AIDS. I felt I wasn’t one of them. You have many people who get tested on these mobile vans and come up positive but don’t take the next step because of the stigma of walking into a building and sitting in a waiting room where just by being there; you feel they know your secret.

You don’t want to get your prescription filled in your neighborhood for fear of stigma. You may choose to not have it fill at all. Or you may choose to travel 45 minutes on subway to see your doctor when you have one just as good two blocks away from your house.

Stigma kills because you keep it your secret and it eats you up as you can’t share your condition for fear it will get out. I remember the weight of my secret and the feeling of being scarred as I couldn’t share the pain I was going through. When you have HIV you have many battles; Battles with loneliness. Battles with your faith as you ask God, why me? Battles with depression and anxiety issues. Living in pain.

We have to have zero tolerance with HIV stigma within our community, our homes and ourselves.

Zero tolerance in the community involves talking about it and not pretending it’s not there. This is specifically for the churches that operate in silence. There are many churches that water the garden of stigma each week and twist the words of God from love to hate. Churches are in the epicenter of this pandemic, and your silence or mistruths feed the beast of stigma. Churches need to be open and not hypocritical meaning you can’t hate us during the day but love us at night. No more.

Zero tolerance must happen in the home. We have to start talking about it. Turn off all the TV’s, the X-Boxes and Playstation and all those LCD gadgets and start talking about and learning about this disease that lives on your block. No more of turning your back on your children or kicking them to the curb because we choose to live in a house of ignorance.

Finally zero tolerance must happen with us who are HIV positive. We have to stop stigmatizing ourselves and blaming ourselves for being positive. We have to stop thinking God is punishing us because of our moral choices. Sometimes we’re so focused on dying we forget how to live. We become the walking dead. We have to be honest with who we are and unafraid to state our status. Some people say “I have HIV but HIV doesn’t have me”. If you’re going online dating sites and you’re putting down negative when you’re positive, HIV does have you. And we can’t stigmatize people who are negative because not all are close minded and not all are unwilling to be in a relationship with someone positive.

We have to have zero tolerance of people whispering their status. By living in truth we can make the stigma of it go away.  I used to ask God why me? I used to ask why I was given these rocks. I was looking at what the rocks in the wrong light. When I looked at the rocks in God’s light I saw diamonds.

We all have to say I have zero tolerance for stigma. 

Wearing the Red Ribbon

I remember when I was first diagnosed in the late 80's. At that time not many people were infected so the health department had the resources to send people out to newly infected persons and teach them on how to live with the disease without spreading it.

A nurse showed up at my door and she gave me the rundown on the disease and at one point she asks if I have any bleach. I'm thinking to myself, she does laundry to?! Cool! But no the bleach was for a different reason. It was to show me how to bleach the silverware I used and also how to wipe down the toilet seat after each use. I didn't know it at the time but it was introduction to stigma.

The sad part is that now we're several centuries later and the mentality of fear that still exist of people who have HIV and peoples fear of catching it from a simple touch or handling an item that someone positive has handled.

HIV stigma is sometimes hard to describe. We know that it exists but sometimes for those who are negative, they don't fully understand what it feels like to be stigmatized. Stigma can create barriers to proper healthcare, create negative self-identity and progress often to discriminatory behaviors.

We are now about to recognize those living with HIV/AIDS and those who have passed from the disease as another World AIDS Day is here. I've attended many functions each year and each time I notice something interesting. At each event they hand out red ribbons and a pin for attendees to wear during the function.

At that moment we're all infected or affected by HIV/AIDS. At that moment.

The interesting thing that happens is when the event is over and it's time to go home. You notice the removal of the red ribbon before people leave the building. The removal of the ribbon before they go into the general public or before they get on the subway. Because they know what that ribbon represents-stigma.

Yet for those living with the disease we don't have the luxury of removing the red ribbon. It's something we carry with us everywhere we go. Of course our status doesn't show on our lapel but we blend in as much as we can. in certain neighborhoods or regions of the country we still have that early eighties mentality of ignorance where we have not progressed in our understanding of what it means to have HIV/AIDS.

So this year i throw out a challenge to those attending World AIDS Day events this year. I challenge you to wear your ribbon home. If someone has questions help educate and eradicate the ignorance. Show that you are truly affected and join the chorus of those living with the disease.

Wear the red ribbon with pride and help show that AIDS doesn't have a certain face or race. That truly we're all affected by HIV/AIDS.

And as a last note I give pause to those who have moved on to a better place and honor your spirit not just on the first of December but everyday.

God bless

Giving Thanks

As we come up on the Thanksgiving holiday, this is a perfect time to reflect and recognize all the events and people that have brought me blessings this year.
I first have to thank God. Being connected spiritually with him has made dealing with life so much easier. I won't lie, in my early days of my diagnosis I used to be angry at him, gave him the silent treatment and refused to speak his name out loud. But amazingly, he never gave up on me. He was always consistent through my inconsistency. And like the lyrics of the song states, "I never would have made it without you." And coming up on 25 years of living with this disease I know that he's there with me until the end and beyond.

In a weird way there's a certain thanks to having HIV. Believe me if given another chance I wouldn't want it but the fact is that I do have it and it has taught me the value of living a true fulfilled life. It has placed things in perspective and made me reflect on what is important and what is minor. It's given my life drive and a purpose. My cup runneth over when I know that the only person who can stop my dreams is me and I'm to busy building my dreams for me to be my own destroyer of my goals. Yet it hasn't always been the most fabulous journey but I've walked many trails and been able to walk through doors that I thought were closed to me, now opened for me to experience a true rich life.

I thank the many friends and people I've met who has accepted me for who I am and not judge me for what lies in me. Those who have given me words of encouragement or affirmations and walked toward me and never showed me their backs. I'm also thankful for the people who are honest with their lack of knowledge and honest enough to admit it. We're sometimes learning together as the rule book is different for everyone who is positive, yet your openness doesn't bring offense but a opportunity to teach. And that learning is a two way street where I'm enriched by you.

I also have met some incredible people who are living with the virus and they give me inspiration as they give me new challenges through their challenge. We're talking about people who speak publicly about their status, people who have run around the entire city of NYC not letting their status hold them back and those who stand in the face of stigma and faced it down daring anyone to deny them the same rights as others. The passion that you extend feed my creativity and fills my soul. You do what you do not for accolades but because its what in your heart.

Of course I save the best thanks for last and that thanks is for the people who have put up with my ranting and ravings on the 20+ blog. You've let me be raw and naked with my emotions. You allowed me to not hold back and find a way to release built up frustration. Even when I come off as a Pollyannna you stayed with me.  Sometimes I've offended people which was never intentional but you calling me out on some of my writing gave me another way at looking at the subject. And I appreciate each bitch slap back to reality as I'm still trying to figure this virus out after 24 something years.

The greatest thing is knowing I helped someone or made someone feel like they were not the only one going through something made me feel like my words had value. You looked beyond the typos and found something you could identify with. In the sharing you've told me about your own struggles and each time I'm reminded that despite our status, we're all going through something but whether we face success or adversity, we can learn how to not just 'handle' it but to take advantage of it. If we want to succeed in life, I've learned we must learn how to make the most of both victory and defeat because we're certain to encounter both along the way.

So this year I give thanks and know that although there may be times when I feel lonely I'm never alone.

Thank You

Giving Back To HIV

It's hard to believe that the holiday season is once again upon us. In several weeks we'll be passing the turkey and gravy and soon after that opening gifts. Yet not everyone will have this experience as holidays can do the opposite of making you feel connect and instead can remind you of the disconnect you have either with your friends, family or people in general.

I know for myself I hated the holidays as I was not close with my family and the actual holiday reminded me of my loneliness. I just couldn't wait for Thanksgiving to be over so I didn't have to be reminded. Happily life make changes and I'm not in the same place I used to be as I now have cultivated a circle of friends and reestablished relationships with family.

I always believe that no matter what you're going through that someone is going through something worse than you. You may have the ability to leave your house and feel the cold air on your skin, to walk unassisted with canes or walkers and fortunate enough to admit your health is good.

For others, especially with HIV they are sometimes home-bound and don't have that luxury. Some would love to complain about their commute to work as it meant they could leave the house and also it meant they had a job to go to, yet based on their condition they're stuck in a house sometimes with no support from others.

I'm offering a cure for those who feel that the holidays bring out their reflection of depression. The cure is to give back to those in need. Challenge yourself to volunteer your time at many food programs offered for home-bound HIV residents and make a difference. Here in New York City we have several, the biggest one being God's Love We Deliver, a daily program that utilizes volunteers to prepare meals and delivers them to clients throughout the city. Thanksgiving is one of the biggest day and the biggest need for volunteers.

By giving back you can make that Thanksgiving a day of removing any remorse and make it truly a day of giving and receiving thanks. You can also be an important person who can make an impact on someone's life. Even if you don't live in NYC just Google for local agencies in your community looking for volunteers this holiday. I say this now as many agencies are preparing for the big day and usually they may have you attend a brief training.

The greatest thing is it brings you out of that bubble of not having and places you in a position of realizing what you truly do have, the power to make a difference. At the end of the day you still may have issues with your family members, still dealing with your health and friends who may not be who you want them to be, but there's therapeutic value in helping others. And from my experience of volunteering you always make a new friend who is also giving their time.

HIV may have taken so much for you but show it you have the power and give back to those living with HIV and make a difference not only for someone in need but also yourself! Give back to HIV!

On Bended Knee

I have a condition that most who know me are aware of but don't understand. In fact I don't understand it myself. I'm not talking about my HIV status but something that has affected me for the last three years.

I can't bend my knee.

It started in my right leg and the first time it happened I thought it was just my leg falling asleep as I would soon gain mobility as the day progressed. Eventually it got to the point where the stiffness I was experiencing started to stay around much longer. I was puzzled to what it was and as if I didn't have enough to deal with already.

I questioned if it had to do something with my current medicine regime. At the time my body was resistant to all medications based on my inability to take my medication on a timely basis. Because of my actions, there was nothing to prescribe as my body was rejecting everything. The only option for me was to inject myself twice a day with a drug called Fuzeon. This involved a needle of which I had no problem with others inject me, but doing it to myself brought out my fears. Luckily or maybe unlucky for me I was eligible for a study of a needless gun called a Bio-Injector where it shoots the liquid medication through your skin by using small carbon monoxide cartridges.

Although I could shoot myself anywhere I chose my right leg as it was more convenient. Sometimes it hurt; sometimes it was like a mosquito bite. Ironically it was around the same time that I started to feel the stiffness in my right leg. Needless to say I stopped the study right away.

Yet three years later I'm still dealing with the after effect. I've been playing Scooby Doo wondering if the Bio-Injector was responsible or was there something else going on. So far in my investigation I've been to three top notch hospitals and in each my case is like an episode of the X-Files. The doctors just can't understand what's going on with my leg. I've gotten diagnoses from polymyostis to 'stiff person syndrome' to “we just don’t know”.

And the worst part of not knowing is that they throw drugs at you hoping it will work; only it ends up as a band-aid. So I have had my experience with Presidone (steroids) to Valium which relaxes your muscles but has an addicting factor. As well as compromising your immune system even further.

So currently exploring hospital #4 and hope I can find answers there. As it's a immune disease it's frustrating, yet I see others in worse shape in me in wheelchairs or using walkers and I remind myself not to complain, Until I find out what's going on we're going all natural with acupuncture, treadmill, swimming and stretching.

Lessons if any to be learned. It’s never about the disease. There are always side effects that your body exhibits. For those who think it's all about taking a pill, think again. The virus branches out and affects other parts of your body and it's not always an easy fix. I may still be able to climb the mountains displayed in the ads, just going to take a little longer.

Yet what keeps me going and not complaining is remembering that no matter what I'm going through, there's always someone worse off than me. So still finding blessings in my discomfort. Taking that into account I may not be able to have a bended knee but I can stand tall in the struggle!

Interview with a Doctor

I think one of the most important parts of your health care is choosing a doctor that you feel comfortable with as this person will be someone you'll be sharing your most private information. Yet some once they're HIV diagnosed may go to a health provider and have such a bad experience that they may not continue and lose out on getting a handle on their health.

You have to learn self-advocacy skills because once you're behind those closed doors you're on your own. I had to learn that it takes awhile to learn such skills. My own memories recall the first doctor I had. I was fortunate as on the first day he gave me a tool that I use to this day. He basically told me to question his advice and if something doesn't feel right, to ask questions and not just accept his prescribing of meds.

Of course I couldn't go crazy and just be resistance to everything he told me, but he gave me that room to ask questions when I was unsure about something, whether it was necessary to take certain pills, what did my blood work mean and was I placing myself at risk if I did certain acts in my relationships.

When it was time to part ways because of his job change I had those tools he gave me, yet ran into doctor who didn't have the same mindset of being questioned. There are some doctors who get lost in the numbers that follow their name and feel they know it all. I'll never forget after being in my 20th year of having this virus, my new doctor who couldn't have been that much older than me, trying to give me a sex education lesson on how to live with HIV. I know I shocked him when I told him I'd been living with this disease longer than he has been practicing it. It wasn't said out of cockiness but it was clear he didn't even read my file to learn who I was.

He learned that day.
So in the most simple ways to find a good doctor you should do the following:

1. Interview the doctor. Ask about their background and experience. Being African-American and recognizing there are different things I may have to deal with such as high blood pressure and diabetes, asking them what was their knowledge of African-American health issues. I'm literally placing my life in your hands and I want to know what you know and most importantly your experience.

2. Question medical diagnosis- This is where it can become tricky because after all they're the ones with the doctorate degree, but if you're being prescribed something that you're unfamiliar with ask what will do this do to me once I swallow it. Find out the side effects and if it's a medication that is difficult to take as you may not have a place to keep it in the fridge or eat meals at the same time of the day, you may want to see if there's other choices.

3. Google away- This also has some faults as some people can be bias when posting a review on the internet as well as be vindictive because the anonymity the internet provides but more people are writing their opinions about their doctor visits and placing it on the web. After a thorough search for a new provider it helped me find a doctor that sounded like we would be a good match. There were some that looked promising but after reading several different reviews on how unprofessional they were or how they were always late for appointments, it made my choices easier and saved me from wasting my time going to an office visit where the negative reviews were validated.

4. Being able to say it's not going to work- As stated before, your relationship with your doctor is just like any other relationship. Sometimes on that first visit you hit it off as you can feel their listening to you and hearing your concerns. Other times you catch them watching the clock as you're trying to explain to them about the pain in your leg. Often times the non-verbal speak louder than the verbal. But before you dismiss them have a talk with them about your concern and I emphasize the word, talk, and not giving attitude. And if you still feel it's not a fit, let them know and find another provider

Finding a good health provider is so important especially in this age when doctors are under pressure to see as many patients in a day based on the clinic they work in. Yes doctors have quotas also, so sometimes it feels like you're in a turnstile as you just sat down and already you're out the door.

If you have good insurance often private doctors are sometimes more desirable than clinics, but there are many clinics that give excellent one-on-one service that is unmatched by a private doctor. It's all about doing your research and knowing what works for you. Knowing your comforts, such as do you prefer a female over male, someone gay over straight and someone the same ethnicity as you? But whatever your preference is don't just miss your medical appointments because of a bad experience.

Take your care in your hand and learn the skill of speaking your mind!

The 'forgotten' Community

When it comes to HIV prevention messages, most of the time the messages center on two groups, men who have sex with men and of these campaigns, it’s mostly men of color. The second targeted campaigns are directed to women, a group that is rising in rates of infection.

Yet there’s another community that most HIV prevention doesn’t target or seems to not have on their radar. I call that group the ‘forgotten’ community or more commonly known as men of color who identify as straight. In this absence of direct marketing we have a situation where complacency is fostered and the education of protecting oneself against HIV is irrelevant as the messages in not targeting straight men creates a self-dialogue where a heterosexual man may think, “I’m not gay therefore I don’t have to worry about HIV”. An unfortunate statement that is far from the truth.

           

Thank God for a new program introduced by Iris House which is based in Harlem and has an office in the Bronx which has taken the initiative to give focus to this overlook community. The program is called Keepit100nyc with the subheading of ‘Love Your Life” a program designed for men of color between the ages of 18-24. As reported by the Executive Director of Iris House Ingrid Floyd she makes it clear that ‘it takes a village’ as she lays out the approach of the interventions.

           

I’ve always felt that when it came to any type of HIV interventions within the community, overlooked are the neighborhood members who are either directly or indirectly affected by this disease. Harlem is one of the hardest hit areas when it comes to rates of infection and recognizing that Iris House uses several innovated ways to reach straight identified men. The first way is that it trains and works with local barbers to provide information and education on HIV to its patrons. This reduces barriers of men who may avoid agencies that provide HIV interventions based on the stigma of simply walking in the physical building itself.

Anyone familiar with barbershops know that it’s a conduit of information as men talk about random issues and as you wait for your turn in the chair you are privy to the conversations happening even if you’re not participating in the talks. This over hearing of info, especially when its of HIV interventions is ideal as there’s something of value when you hear straight men talking of a subject that is usually sung by gay men, of which a straight man may dismiss based on the sexuality of the messenger.

According to Keepit100nyc coordinator Serge Jean, he discusses the most important part of the intervention which has participants in the program which is called Nia Interventions. Nia which is Swahili for ‘purpose’ is a six hour, two to four session small group interventions. The goals of this intervention are to educate African American men about HIV/AIDS and its effect on their community, bring groups of men together, increase motivation to reduce risks, and help men learn new skills to protect themselves and others by promoting condom use and increasing intentions to use condoms.

           

Videos of straight men talking to their female sexual partners of condom usage and even discussing safe sex with their homeboys bring an authentic feel as media plays a big part of not only how we learn about HIV but again it breaks and shatter the myth that only gay men are affected by this disease.

By showing real situations in the videos that straights can identify with, it debunks the falseness of straight men and condom usage and informs them that condom usage with their female partners are not just about preventing pregnancy. It also introduces the most important piece which is how you talk to your female partner about using condoms without the face of mistrust or one of the partners cheating appearing. It makes condom usage a symbol of caring about the health of yourself and your partner.

           

For those who test positive the program also provides case management which can help navigate participants to better care and support which goes beyond the programs interventions. Most importantly it connects men to health care within their community without the belief that quality care only exist outside your zip code.

           

I feel that when it comes to HIV we all should be talking about it. It’s not about focusing on how you identify sexually. It’s about how to make accessible information to those who may not check off on the intake sheet that they’re gay.

 It’s making the invisible, visible and most of all it’s about keeping it real and recognizing that we can no longer have a ‘forgotten’ community and especially in communities of color, shattering that fairy tale that straights are not affected. We have to become affected, no matter how we identify, before we become infected.

Hats off to you Iris House for keeping it real and helping men of color love their life!!

For more info click on the link or go to Keepit100nyc.org

The Pity Party is Over

 So now you know that you got HIV, the 'bug' or maybe you've called it the Monster in your circle. Whatever you call it, you have it so now what?

Before you get to deep into this post I have to warn you that this is not an Oprah moment but a frank reality check that may offend and shock but hopefully wake you to your situation. This isn’t the time to tiptoe.

Now that you’re carrying the disease you now have two choices with your life: you can live or you can die.

For those who choose to die stop reading now and start planning your funeral.

For those who choose life, realize that the pity party is over and you have no one to blame but yourself. I know that may sound harsh but we're not in the infancy of this disease but it is something that has been here for three decades. Like my mother would say, “you should have known better”.

It's time to start taking responsibility that you chose to have sex unprotected and yes your partner had the disease but you can’t blame him for giving you the virus. The responsibility also fell on your shoulders when you decided to open your legs or got on your back without a simple piece of latex as a barrier.

You're not living in a Beyonce video. By putting a ring on it doesn't make him monogamous. We sometimes get so wrapped up in the package we don’t take time to see what’s in the box. We think we’re that person’s first but you should assume they were infected and not accept the online status where they marked negative or they’ve given the answer you wanted to hear just for a booty call.

Now it's time to put the blame and accusations away in the cupboard and take accountability for your life and stop telling yourself you don't want to die from this disease. You're going to die from something no matter who you are and sometimes when we become infected we spend our living life worried about death that we forget how to live. We allow ourselves to become the walking dead. Focus on the life you have as imperfect as it is. Thank God you're alive to recognize its imperfect value.

Lift your head and quit telling yourself you deserved it. Stop saying you deserved it because you’re poor or you’re a person of color or you didn’t have a role model. Those are just excuses we build around ourselves to take away the ownership of our actions.

How can we blame poverty as the cause when most every city in this country has a fishbowl of free condoms sitting on someone desk? If you’re ashamed of getting a free condom just use that same fearfulness you use to have sex with a random stranger to propel you to get over that shame.

Now that you have it know that this is going to mess you up mentally. As strong as we want to be we underestimate the beating down you will experience mentally. You may look in the mirror for sores or weight loss or skin issues, but just know that just knowing you have this disease makes an imprint on your mental psyche. Something you won’t see when you look in the mirror.

Take ownership of your anger, your denial, and your depression and have them stop leading you. Turn your position around and step in front of them as you should be determining your footsteps. So get the help you need as you’re not on this journey alone.

And get ready for a storm of stigma and discrimination and a wave of ignorance from people who will never know the shoes you’re walking in. But remember you’re not living your life for them. You’re living your life for you. Stand strong and know you have as much a right to be here as they do. And whatever you do don’t feel like you have to audition for their affection or attention. This especially goes for family. We can easily make new friends, but we can also build a new family if they decide to not accept you for you. This is a new you and if they can’t accept you for who you are, move on. They are the ones losing.

But now that you know, know that you’re not broke. You’re still a whole person with the same soul. You’re still standing so use that stand to define the life you want to live.

But most importantly don’t stop living. The disease doesn’t define who you are; you define how that disease will fit into your life.

Now that you know move whatever is blocking your blessings and press on!

Dancing to Hate

One of my favorite forms of music is R&B, having grown up listening to artist like Earth, Wind and Fire, the Ohio Players and soon being introduced to artists such as Prince and the only lady in the world I would turn straight if she asked me to, Janet Jackson.

Soon rap was thrown in that mix but not to sound old but when rap was introduced by artists such as Sugerhill Gang and Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, it was fun and touched on social issues that were affecting the black community. They created unity through their expression of music by bringing to light the issues of poverty, racism and black unity.

You never heard the word, "nigger' or 'faggot' or any other derogatory comments. Women were not told to bend over and shake that ass and manhood was not defined by how much bling you had or what designer labels covered your body.

Yet a shift happened. Rap artists and the music they sang changed. What was once empowering was now manufacturing language of hate and objectification. It seemed that manhood was defined on reducing those who were gay to less than and it became the norm for homophobic lyrics to work their way onto the dance floor.

It has even reached a point where certain artist through what they call music suggests that we 'kill the faggots', sending orders to young men of color who sometimes don't have the mental maturity to know the difference between right or wrong. Or worse, the music reinforces the beliefs they have been raised with by either their family or the church and peers in the community.

In a perfect world it would be nice for well known rappers produce lyrics that speak against such hate. Yet to do so would bring suspicion on them and have people and various African-American social media outlets wondering if they are gay. There's a certain website in particular of which I won't name simply because I don't want to help with their boost in viewers who questions any man who hugs or is in close approximately to another man as being suspect. 

They would really gag if they were overseas as in other countries such as the Middle East men hold hands while walking and embrace each other or give a peck on the cheek as a form of goodbye. Even though they are not gay such actions in America would be construed as gay.

The biggest hypocrisies is that there are many rappers who are gay yet would never dare to put that label on them. In the eye of the public they may sing to us how it's sickening to be gay and at night they're doing the actions that they condemn. I'm fortunate enough to have friends who work in the industry and have had personal eyewitness accounts of well known rappers who are anti-gay yet have a taste for the male flesh. Unfortunately this is not a column on outing people, mostly as I feel that outing is not an effective way for people to accept their identity and also it provokes people who may be considered coming out, less likely based on the public reaction which is surrounded by gossip and not support.

To be fair not all rappers condone hateful language. Artists such as Kayne West, Russell Simmons and The Game state they have no issues with those who are gay. They are but a few who have given public support. In mentioning The Game I respect his public comments in his support for 'gays' but sometimes when you take a step forward you inadvertently take a step back. In a recent article he states that he's comfortable with 'them' but blames them for the spread of AIDS in the linked website.
The Game on gays

It's sad to say but in this age and with the accessible information, people think only someone gay is either at risk or has the ability to pass along AIDS. Anyone, regardless of sexuality and race can get or pass along AIDS.

A serious dialogue has to be created about this type of thinking and behaviors of rappers spreading their messages of hate. The best way to hit rappers is where it hurts, their wallets. Whether you're gay or not by not supporting an artist who wrap their beats in hate, a message can be sent that it won't be tolerated. And even though the beats may be jamming and and you tell yourself 'it's my song' we have to draw a line and say this is not acceptable.

I know it hurts as I have had to erase from my IPod certain songs that have the inclusion of derogatory themes. And in not to be a hypocrite but it's not just songs that demonize gays but also the ones that treat women as if they are a piece of meat.

Will my actions change anything? Who knows? But in unity we can move mountains but for me the dancing to hate is over and I only dance for love. When it comes to hateful lyrics, I bow out gracefully.   

How do we address rappers who spread their homophobic beliefs through their beats?

Death before Dying

From September the 4th to the 10th of 2011 around the country, it's National Suicide Prevention Week. It's not a glamorous topic to write about but we have to recognize the impact it has for individuals, especially those who are LGBT youth as well as adults.

My own brush with suicide was in my early twenties. I was at a place where I felt rejected by everyone, my family, friends and in a way myself. At the time it felt I was living someone else life as I was struggling with not only my sexual identity but also the fact that I had this thing in me called HIV.
It was a suffering in silence as I dared not share my secret with anyone for fear of rejection as well as condemnation.

I can still remember when I made my attempt. It was after a time when I was crying for help without crying for help, if that makes any sense. I wanted people to ask how I was doing but everyone seemed to be to busy with their own lives. So I reached out to people hoping that they could read my mind and know I had these thoughts of taking myself out of the game, but unfortunately whatever signals I was putting out was being missed.

So there I was alone in my small apartment, sitting at a small table with a phone and a bottle of Tylenol. The phone was in case someone's spider sense kicked in and they knew what I was about to do. I would even occasionally pick up the phone to make sure it was working, and it was. The dial tone made it seemed no one cared.

I opened the Tylenol bottle and stared at the full bottle and each one went from my hand to my mouth. Eventually before I knew it the bottle was half empty, just like my life. I already felt that I was dead before the actual act of dying.
Thankfully I got the nerve to pick up that phone one last time and make one last attempt to reach out and this time instead of playing the guessing game I let the person know what I did. They reacted right away and got me help. I made it.

Yet there are many who don't make it. especially when looking at LGBT youth.According to National American Association of Suicidology they report that gay high school students and those unsure of their sexuality were 3.4 times more likely to have attempted suicide in the last year as compared to their peers. It's hard to get an accurate number of how many attempts are successful as sexual orientation and gender are not often on death certificates.
For African Americans suicide is the third leading cause of death among African-American youth, ages 10-19. In other words suicide is not something that only white people do.

Although it's a depressing topic, I feel this week is important as it wakes us up to the reality of suicide as a choice. I know for myself, it would have made such a big difference if someone had reached out to me instead of me reaching out to them. Yet now there are resources where you can call and no matter what your sexual identity or issue, someone is available to speak to you by phone without judgement.

Because of the stigma and identity issues LGBT encounter, if you're a friend, whether gay or straight, we should take a few minutes out of our lives and check on our friends and family.  There's a value in reaching out and just letting them know that whatever they may be going through, they're not alone and you're there for them. Or you know someone you can connect them with to talk before they act.

The one thing we can't do is turn back the hands of time. Something I wish I could have done when a friend last November took his life because he couldn't handle being gay. Knowing I spoke to him two days before he did it. I wish I knew what to look for.

To get more information on suicide and what to look for in others who may be contemplating it go to The National Suicide Prevention Week website. There's also resources for those who may be thinking they have no other options.

Know that although life is not what you want it to be and you may feel you're stuck in a corner remember that sometimes to get to the sun we have to make it through the clouds. We all need that support and through that support we can remove thoughts of dying with images of life.

 

When Did We Move Away

When did we move.....away?

When did we move when we stood next to each other

dancing to the sounds of our culture,

standing tall on the earth of our heritage, my brothers, together in unison.

When did we move.....away?

When they captured us and put us together like livestock,

 no my fault, the livestock traveled better than us.

Our value was less than the hoofs of a calf and our soul was collective

 as we were layered on top of each other,

sharing sweat, pain and bloodless tears.

Holding each other, as men we gave ourselves permission to be human,

shedding tears in each other arms, holding on to each other even when the spirit had left the body, my brotha was free.

When did we move.....away?

Was it when we stood in line, our manhood sold off to the highest bidder?

My shoulder pressed against yours, my hands holding yours, saying be strong brotha, no matter what, be strong.

 I let you cry, you let me cry. We cried together as stolen men standing on stolen land.

When did we move.....away?

When we stitched our strength together and told them no more.

When they arrived in covered sheets trailing blood stained ropes of our brothas behind them?

When the air of unjust laws was pumped in our chest and the value of our worth was less than the dirt that covered our bare feet.

Yet we were still rich as you called on me and I could call on you. 

My brother.

When did we move.......away?

When we walked together looking for the Promised Land.

The jagged teeth of dogs tearing into our flesh,

the sting of the water feeling like thrown needles on our back,

our face,

our lives.

I never left your side because we knew we would overcome and that no matter what we endured we would not be undone.

When did we move........away?

When we stood together, our fists pumped in the air. We took care of ours and didn’t expect anything from anyone whose afro didn’t fit the roundness of the moon.

Say it loud........

I’m black and I’m proud.

Say it loud.........

I’m black and I’m proud

Say it loud.....my brotha

When did we move.......away?

When we endured history’s wraith as one.

When did we move....away?

Was it when the white snow started to fall in our neighborhoods, crystallizing in needles replacing lost dreams to only disappear into our veins.

Was it when we saw the door was left open and the fathers of fathers started to walk through them, away from the cries of a young mind?

Was it Reaganomics, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell or the weapons of mass destruction that made us come undone?

When did we move......away?

From each other, my brotha

My......

Nigger

Or does it really make a difference when it ends with an “a”

The spirit of my ancestors tell me it sounds the same as his last breath is drowned by the gathered crowd that finds sport in each swing his neck makes on the bitter tree.

Yet now we use it as our glue of endearment, attempting to claim ownership of it, when we don’t even try to own our own dreams.

When did we move......away?

Are you talking to me nigga?

Who you looking at?

You got something to say.

You got beef?

You stupid whack ass nigga. I should smoke your ass.

……and when will we come back.

Time For a Tune-up

If you own a car you're familiar with a tune-up. Each season or if your car hits a certain mileage point, you bring your car in to change the oil, have the tires checked and get new plugs. The interesting thing about this is that we do this for a car, a material object, yet many of us don't get a mental health tune-up for ourselves.

Speaking from my own experience, I recently had this cloud over me. It seemed to follow me everywhere, maybe dispersing for a day or two but then re-emerging. I just knew I was not my usual self. I was moody. Sometimes I would cry for no reason and overall just feeling like I was on auto-pilot. And it didn't match what was happening for me personally as I was finding success with my school of which I'm seeking an advance degree, and as an actor I was working on TV/movie sets and even played a principle part in a show that aired nationally. So what reason did I have for feeling blue?

In the back of my head I knew I needed someone to talk to as I recognized the symptoms of depression from having it before. I knew it meant seeing a therapist as throughout my years, I've seen several for various length of time. But this time I figured I would self-care by reading inspirational books or writing my feelings down or waiting until it went away. I was going to do whatever I had to do to not see a professional.

Maybe it was the stigma? Maybe it was pride? Maybe I just didn't want to admit I needed help? Yet when really looking at my situation, although I've seen professionals before, I had to ask myself, "What's wrong with getting a tune-up" What's wrong in talking out whatever is holding you back?

We manage our health with our meds and other forms of stress relievers but when it comes to our mental health we don't want to walk through that door. We want to bury our heads and pretend it's not there. For myself I wanted to get my car back into the fast lane. I wanted to get my oil checked and new spark plugs and my tires kicked.

To do that I had to ignore any shame and remind myself that it takes a strong person to look at their demons and confront them and not run away from them. I also had to remind myself that getting a tune-up doesn't mean I'll be seeing someone for years. For me it feels like it'll just be a few months. But its knowing that after those few months I'll be back on the road in a healthy state of mind. 

Maybe that's why we don't seek a tune-up. We know that we're taking out old parts (the past) and replacing it with the new (the future) And for many they don't like change. But just imagine where your life will take you if you shift that car into drive instead of spinning your wheels and never moving, stuck in a rut?

So yes I am seeing a therapist once again, even with all my successes and I have no shame. And even five or ten years down the road I may need another tune-up. But if I can give my car a tune-up then why can’t I? The investment will pay off and I'll be in a better place knowing I'm in motion and I'm driving myself to wellness!

Changing of the Guard

Today I had an adjustment moment of change that took me off guard. I was going to my clinic for my check-up and as I've been going there for the past five years. Whenever I entered I was on auto pilot.
As usual I waved and said hello to the security guard who I knew by first name and proceeded to the elevator with my destination being the third floor. When the door opened and I saw unfamiliar faces at the reception desk, I wondered if I hit the button for the wrong floor. But no it was my floor. Everything from the desk to the furniture was the same; it was the people that were different.
The diva came out in me when they asked for my name and my medical card. What! Show my id. The nerve, where is so and so! But the reality was that so and so had moved on and since this person didn't know me from Adam, I relented and gave up my information.
One of the unfortunate aspect of having HIV for a long period of time is that when it comes to your healthcare, you pick out a place that you feel comfortable going. You start to create relationships. Not just with your doctor but also with the entire staff. It's like a comfort food. You know it will always be there. it makes you feel good to see familiar faces. Yet when staff makes changes and leave for other positions or opportunities, it throws you off balance.
Last year I went through it when the doctor I saw for five years announced to me that he was leaving for an out of state opportunity. a wave of emotions wash over you as you process what you just heard. Outside you're happy for their new adventure, but inside you're screaming, NO!!!! You're my doctor what am I supposed to do now? how can you leave me!
After calming down and realizing it wasn't all about me, he let me know who would be replacing him. Yet at that moment I didn't care how good he was and how highly recommended others felt about his knowledge of HIV. I didn't want to start over with someone new.
Usually I have no problem when it comes to change but when it comes to opening myself and creating a relationship of trust, you don't adjust so easily. Adjusting to a new doctor is never easy. This is the person you shared things that sometimes you don't even tell yourself all in the sake of getting good treatment as a good doctor is never judgmental with the information you share. Yet the truth of the matter is that just like other folks with jobs and careers, they eventually move on. And although they move on you still have your HIV that needs managing so you have to come to that place of acceptance.
Yet breaking up is hard to do especially when you're on the receiving end of the information. You go through denial, then anger, then acceptance. A relationship between you and your doctor is such an intimate aspect of your care and it's understandable why someone like me would be resistance to the changing of the guard. Although they have all your information on file, there's still something about starting over.
Yet I can't stress this enough, it's not personal, it's part of life, people move on. You have to adapt and although it may take awhile, as I can attest, give the new doctor a chance as you still have to manage the one thing that hasn't change, your HIV status.
Since the time he left, several nurses who I was also on a first name basis left months later and like before you have a sense of sadness but wish them well in their new ventures.
It's been a year now and the doctor I'm seeing has passed the test, so I'm open and honest with him with all details of my life as it's the only way you can get adequate care. I knew that no matter how I felt about the new guy, by not giving him the full story, even if it sounded like I was repeating myself, it ultimately came down to my health.
After 25 years of having this virus, I've been through several doctors so you’d think I wouldn't have any separation anxiety. But I'm only human and I do. And I know that the doctor I'm seeing now will eventually move on and it's that knowing that will make the change so much easier to swallow!

Running To Sobriety

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I said, "no, no, no"
Unfortunately for Amy Winehouse that decision cost her her life along with the monkey on her back as she battled her addiction to drugs. Although Amy was not gay she reminded me of something that many people go through. The fight to stay sober. Most write them off as addicts or crackheads. Not realizing that for many they face a fight that, for the person outside, we may judge or dismiss as having no value, yet for those living with drug addiction it's a battle with demons that are not easily destroyed.
And for those living with HIV it's more of an issue as you're adding another element to your battle.
I have personally never had that battle but I've been witness to those who have. Friends with HIV and also drug or alcohol addition and their struggle to reach up and get out, only sometimes to get sucked back in.
Although it was not my shoes that was in the struggle, my heart was there with the people who had to take each day one by one, working their way to a place where the drugs was buried underneath their renewed dreams. And most impressive was knowing that the cloud of HIV still hovered over their head, yet they still saw a promised life.
One person who has inspired me is a man living with HIV and who took the steps to fight his addiction to meth.
His name is Simply Rob
A name he goes under as he spreads his words of wisdom through the power of spoken word here in NYC. He freely talks about his past and weaves it in a poetic blanket that he shares with anyone willing to listen.
When talking real talk about his fight with meth, he brings awareness to his story as he describes an incident, one of many:
"I can think of a few instances when I should have died while I was getting high on Crystal Meth. The first being when I shot up with Crystal Meth for the first time. I felt a warm tingling sensation crawl up my left arm, into my chest and when it hit my heart I felt as if I had been kicked so hard that it knocked the wind out of me. I couldn't breath. I remember thinking I'm going to die, then leaning back in my seat in preparation to pass on"    Simply Rob
That first time led to a fifteen year battle in addition to the 18 years of being diagnosed with HIV.
I personally don't know what I would have done. Especially knowing that 18 years ago I was in the closet about my status. What would my addiction have looked like? How could I join a group and only give them half the story or how could I find my way to recovery when the stigma of having HIV would impede my recovery. You could say I'm one of the fortunate ones but for others they have that decision to make.
You are not alone and it bears repeating.
Like Rob there are many others who are either in this battle or in their days or years of recovery. The gift Simply Rob shares is that he's not selfish with his recovery. By sharing his story he lets others know they're not alone.
Right now like last year he's preparing to run his way to sobriety. As part of the NYC Marathon he's chosen an community agency that helped him with his battle, a place that gave him hope. He's not only talking the talk through his poetry, but walking the walk or rather running.
I run up the subway stairs and think I'm going to die, but Simply Rob runs around the city of New York City and feels renewed. And he runs not alone, although when you're struggling with addiction and HIV that's how you feel, alone.
I write to inspire as does Simply Rob, but also I'm taking this time to recognize the unspoken heroes who may feel their steps have no value because of their addiction.
Addition doesn't always equal death, it can also mean life. You just have to run to it and not away from it.
Just Simply ask Rob!
http://www.harlemunited.org/teamharlemunited/runner.php?marathon_date=201111&runners_number=300