By Michael Hinson

Over twenty-five years ago, an unknown phenomenon took center stage of the gay community and not much later, the world. In June of 1981, medical professionals began reporting, “alarming occurrences of a rare cancer (Kaposi’s Sarcoma) in otherwise healthy gay men”. As it was then termed, Gay Related Immune Deficiency (GRID), is what we now know to be AIDS or Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. What we knew then about the disease is unfortunately only a too close memory in many a minds shrouded in the countless obituaries and news clippings of young deaths we all bared witness too for the past twenty-five plus years and counting.

This Saturday, December 1, 2007 marks the recognition of World AIDS Day, now in it’s nineteenth year of recognition. Historically, a solemn day of memorializing, commemoration and grass roots activities, World AIDS Day was started by the World Health Organization on December 1, 1988.

Twenty-five years ago people where dying from AIDS at alarming rates. So little was known about the disease and for those of us living in the early epicenters of the disease, all we knew or thought we knew was the certainty of death if you were told you had the disease. It was that simple then.

I remember being educated about the disease from my mentors, Rashidah Abdul-Khabir, Curtis Wadlington, David Fair and Tyrone Smith. Every day, we would sit intensely listening to Sister (Mother) Rashidah, an Infectious Disease Nurse by profession, who had the job of not only caring for people living with AIDS at Albert Einstein Hospital, but the weight of educating the Black community about a disease that until her voice publicly said so, was a mystery hidden between walls of patient privacy, scientific phenomenon and community distrust. What we learned one week, we were tested on a week later. After successfully passing a series of tests that consisted of research, preparation, oral presentation of the facts along with questions and answers from our mentors, we were sent on our way.

There was no pay, no personal gain and no incentive other than wanting to live and have a “living” community. We went wherever we were told or asked to go. I remember going to people’s homes to talk to other young people and older people. I went to schools, churches, community groups, professional groups, senior homes and a host of other places I won’t mention because I was actually too young to be there. But, it was a matter of life and death. So my choice was to be where I needed to be if my survival and the survival of my communities depended on it. It was that simple then.

I remember the long nights traveling from one community forum to another community forum, spreading the word, “HIV is all of our problem, get used to it and do something about it!” Much of the discussion around the disease at that time (no matter how much of an educated script we were given with the most up-to-date factual knowledge) would be centered on “conspiracy theories”. “The government is doing what they did with syphilis all over”. ” Yes Tuskegee all over again”. “This thing came from Africa”. “It came from Haiti, the polio vaccine, mosquito’s, door knobs” and so on.

Then of course the discussion proceeded to who has the disease or who could get it. “This is a white mans disease.” “No this is a white gay mans disease.”; “It’s a gay disease.”; It’s a drug attic disease”. Heck, according to the Gay Men’s Health Crisis timeline on AIDS, even President Regan “urged the public in 1986 not to panic since AIDS is confined to gay men and IV drug users”.

Simply getting through these discussions alone presented the first major hurdles to even educating black folks about the disease, it’s nature, it’s nurture and unfortunately the deadly impact it would have on black communities for years to come.

Every other day someone or some family would call the donated office space of BEBASHI (Blacks Educating Blacks About Sexual Health Issues), the first Black AIDS organization in the country co-founded by Rashidah Abdul Khabir to educate the black communities about AIDS and other important sexual health issues, seeking information about how to care for a loved one or where they should go to get tested. “My son has it, what should I do with him?”; “Should I wash everything he uses in bleach?”; “Am I going to die now?”; “Do I need to wear a mask and gloves around him?”.

There was back then it seemed, very little we could do or say that would provide the kind of answers our desperate callers were seeking. But nonetheless, not a day went by that we didn’t try our damndest to offer support to those living with the disease, their families and most of all providing life saving education and information about how not to contract the disease. It seemed every other day there was another funeral. The funerals were coming so rapidly that jars had to be set up in local bars (Smart Place, Pentonies, Allegro’s, the Fuel Pump, the Annex Pub, Stars I and II and the Nile) to take donations to help defray the cost of burial for those without means to do so.

Imagine this if you can, A Muslim woman in gender appropriate Islamic religious clothing addressing a bar full of black gay men and transgenders about the dangers of AIDS. Imagine a community matriarch, Ms. Charlotte White sitting at the front table of “Smarts” (Smart Place) with a big jar with the label covered by the latest picture of a member of the black gay community who had succumbed to the disease, seeking donations for that person to have a decent burial. It was that simple then.

By now you’ve noticed the tag line, “it was that simple then”.

Today, with all the advances that we have made, from understanding that AIDS is caused by a virus that anyone can get; that you can prevent it nearly 100% of the time; that you can live with the disease as opposed to dying from it, if caught early and you go on and stick to a recommended treatment regiment, it’s still amazing that we have unfortunately not come close to ending this pandemic that today has African Americans accounting for forty-nine percent of the newly reported AIDS cases and fifty-four percent of all new HIV infections.

We know today that our government’s response to the disease has been grossly inadequate for black folks and other disenfranchised communities. There has not been nearly enough financial, departmental and/or human resources dedicated to Black communities to fight this pandemic.

We know that black folks still ponder “conspiracy theories” as their loved ones continue to die from the disease.

We know that our black mothers, sisters, grandmothers, aunts, nieces and family matriarchs, long held out as the back bone of our communities have joined the ranks of those most likely to get the disease and die from it, accounting for sixty-three percent of all new HIV infections among women.

We know today that our “church families”, who organized us to fight for our lives and our freedom before, during and after the Civil Rights Movement and so many other critical times, still can’t fully figure out their role in educating the community about the disease by using compassion and humility as their vehicle as opposed to class separation, gender/sexual orientation/gender identity discrimination and religious dogma.

We know that young black gay boys still believe they cannot escape AIDS, and many don’t.

We know today that almost every black family has at least one person who either has the disease or has died from the disease (in some cases unfortunately many more than one).

We know today that AIDS in the minds of some is an issue of “yester-year”, because the perceived direct threat to them and their communities seem to have diminished.

We know today that trans people living with the disease still don’t get counted, treated properly or included in necessary plans for fighting the disease.

We know today that black boys and girls still don’t have access to condoms in schools as they should, even though we routinely provided HIV and other types of sexually transmitted disease testing and treatment to them without their parents consent, even while young African Americans between the ages of 19-24 years old account for sixty-one percent of news AIDS cases among this age group according “Know/HIV/AIDS” and forty two percent of new HIV infections according to the Centers for Disease Control.

We know that black politicians (others too) still say what they think we want to hear at election time and do less than we need them to do once elected.

We know today that people living with AIDS are still discriminated against in employment, public accommodations and housing even with the protections offered by the American’s with Disabilities Act.

We know today that we still don’t have scientifically proven effected ways to stop or slow this disease in our communities and that we are still yet relying on methods used primarily to slow the disease in white gay communities.

We know today that the stigma of living with HIV is still a major cause of suicide among those living with the disease and the major obstacle to individuals getting tested for HIV.

We know that we still do not have a viable, appropriately funded voice setting a national agenda for black gay communities, with respect to HIV/AIDS.

We know that educating our communities about this disease and other important health issues is our responsibility, not someone else’s.

We know today that education is still the only cure.

We know today that unfortunately, we still have so much work to do!

So, what has changed?

If you get tested early and into treatment you can live with the disease not die from the disease.

Mother’s infected with HIV can deliver healthy babies (without HIV) if they take recommended treatments during pregnancy.

Creative uses of art, science and technology can carry critical education messages to broader audiences and communities especially when coupled with the “word of mouth” messages carried by the still needed foot soldiers.

There are grass roots activities happening in almost every local community (with and without funding) to stop the spread of this disease and they need your help.

………and what has changed for you?

Michael Hinson is a long time community activist, organizer, artist and advocate. 

He lives and writes in North Philadelphia. He can be contacted via email 

at Sangoboi@yahoo.com