Lessons Along the Way

Overwhelmed with anger and other emotions the past two weeks, I've started to really think more deeply about my work, with focus on my clients as well as what it means to serve those clients and fight against HIV/AIDS in the process. The past couple of weeks have been very challenging as I watched two woman whom I care deeply about lose their jobs as we all sit and wonder why. Each passing day is a struggle as I try to figure out my role at my agency and how to best provide for my clients.

I have learned a lot about compassion and non-judgment in the past few months from my colleagues. They have opened my eyes to what it means to be with our clients and how I can approach them in a way in which they will feel comfortable. I remember some of my first appointments back in September. As I would listen to my clients tell me of their struggles and hardships, I recall trying to connect with them on some level, as though I have been through struggles and hardships equivalent to theirs. Some of them would look at me as if I was crazy trying to get on their level. Others would nod and just keep talking. I have realized that there is no way in which I understand the struggles my clients go through each day or the challenges with which they are presented. I have no idea what it is like to live in poverty; to be discriminated against based on my appearance; to live with a life-long, life-threatening disease; to feel uncomfortable sharing my deepest secrets with the people who care most about me. I do not remember a time in my life in which I wasn't allowed my basic needs of survival - shelter, food, water, support. I cannot connect with my clients on that personal level in which we can both share our stories and find the similarities because, at the end of the day, I do not know what it is like to live in their shoes; my shoes are very different than theirs.

A recently published article that I read talks about a gay white man living with HIV who works for an HIV/AIDS service organization that serves mostly African-Americans living in poverty, much like the agency I work for. The article describes the man as middle class. He owns his own small business and works full time at the HIV/AIDS service organization. The author writes that his experience with HIV is much like that of the people whom he serves. As I read the article a bit more and started to feel like I knew the man they were writing about, I found myself thinking about my clients and their experiences with HIV. Most of the clients I have met share with me that they struggle financially each day. They make just enough each month to pay for their basic needs, and sometimes do not have enough money to maintain a nutritional diet. Remember Michael who did not have $12 to see his son play basketball? Many of my clients share such struggles. The man who the article was written about seemed to have enough money to not only pay for his basic needs and to maintain a nutritional diet, but he also has enough money to get his HIV medications with no outside help besides that from his private insturance company. My clients often do not have health insurance, and if they do, it is Medicaid. Medicaid does not provide them with enough money to cover their medication costs, which leads them to need to seek assistance with our agency or with a federal program called ADAP - AIDS Drug Assistance Program. Another irony I found in this article was how stigma still penetrates our society when it comes to HIV. Here is a white gay man with a good job who lives with HIV - similar to the face of AIDS in the 1980s when it was considered a "homosexual" disease. Rather than the article focusing on the changing demographics of today's population living with the virus, they chose to focus in on the stigma that has been associated with the virus since Day 1.

How do I talk to my clients about their challenges and struggles when our society is still so caught up in the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS? How do I best approach a client in dialogue when their whole lives they have heard things like "you deserve this"? But mostly...how can I be confident that our HIV/AIDS service organizations across the country have our clients' best interests in mind when those who care more about the clients than about themselves are being fired? 

During Re-orientation last week, I realized how important it is for me to be an advocate for the rights of those living with the virus, as well as for those most at risk for becoming infected. However, I cannot advocate for my clients if my clients cannot advocate for themselves. Many do not even feel comfortable telling their family members about their HIV status out of fear that they will be disowned. They often feel like they have no support from those whom they crave that support from most. How can we expect them to stand up for themselves to complete strangers when they struggle so much to disclose their status to the people about whom they care the most? I especially know that it is not my opinion or voice that counts...it is theirs. They are the ones who need services and who know their situations best. How do we empower them to stand up and be heard?

I have learned a lot in these few months and am grateful for each and every moment. My only hope is that I will be able to answer some of the questions which I have posed to myself in these months. Please pray for my colleagues and my clients.

Twelve Dollars

Being back in East Hartford after four months was really a blessing. Spending time with the fam and my wonderful friends was much needed relaxation and a good break from the routine I have been living in Raleigh. It was interesting to watch myself the first few days as I immersed myself in the relationships I've left back home, and kind of dive back into my life at home. It wasn't until halfway through my vacation that I realized I had left JVC behind.

For the past few months, my community members and I have discussed how important it is for us to connect our lives back home to our lives in JVC; how necessary it is for us to keep our experiences at the forefront and really be able to make it more than just an experience, but an actual part of us. I fell so easily into the comfort of life back home - watching ESPN everyday, watching TV as I fall asleep, going out to eat for many meals. On Christmas morning, though I did not get much under the tree, I had the opportunity to get a new pair of boots and my favorite TV show on DVD.

Upon my return to Raleigh last week, it took me a lot longer to fall back into my "JVC life." Even as clients came and went, I felt so lost and confused. It wasn't until my second day back in the office that I found my compassion again. A client of mine came in for assistance with his rent. He has been struggling to find a job, though he has a great skills set in non-profit work. He has created payment plans with each of the companies he is billed by each month so that he can catch back up on his payments. As he talked, I just listened, though inactively. He started to tell me about his 17 year old son and how he couldn't even provide much for him for Christmas. His son lives about two hours away with his mother. He is an honor roll student and a talented athlete. When my client moved to Raleigh, he was so excited to be closer to his son, but has not even had enough money to afford the gas to get him to his son's town. As he told me this story, he began to cry. A few weeks ago, his son came to Raleigh for a basketball tournament. My client was so excited to see him and his son was also really pumped. He was going to go to one of the basketball games and see his son play. When he found out the games' admission cost $12, though, his world came crashing down. Where would he get the $12 he needed to go see his son for the first time in over a year? It was impossible.

Twelve dollars...an amount of money that seems like pocket change sometimes. Twelve dollars that my client didn't have and rarely has to spend on anything except his monthly bills. He barely has enough money to feed himself each day. His son was five minutes away and he couldn't even see him. As he cried in my office, I snapped back to reality and out of my comfortable life back home when $12 admission to a basketball game was never a problem.

This past weekend, my community set off for beautiful Dalton, PA for re-orientation. We got to see our friends we met a few months ago who are doing JVC up and down the East Coast. We finally got to talk to everyone about our experiences, our struggles, and our joys. It was a great time to get re-focused, especially after feeling disconnected when I was back in CT. Our entire day Friday was spent talking about social analysis - how do we take the experiences we've had and really ask the question why. Why are my clients poor? Why are those who are already marginalized more likely to become infected with HIV? Why are African-Americans more likely to live in poverty than whites? We learned more about analyzing the social structures of our country and really dive into looking at who benefits from the way society is structured today.

I really got to thinking - Why does greed and power rule our society? Why do the rich continue to grow richer while the poor lack the resources to break through the poverty circle? Why do elected politicians listen to only some of their constituents when they are elected to represent ALL of their constituents? Why is it that many of my clients, like Michael, cannot afford the $12 to see their children in a basketball game? My time at re-orientation really re-focused me, re-centered me, and re-energized me. I feel called to action; called to do more research and reflection; called to discern what my role in all of this is and how I can work to really CHANGE the structures. The structures and institutions were created by people, and as such, by people, they can be changed. I am grateful for the privilege with which I was born and raised, and I am grateful that I grew up in East Hartford, CT where I had the chance to interact with many cultures, where life was diverse, where some of my closest friends growing up may have had a different skin color than me, but were still my closest friends. I work for social justice because I know that this society is not just; that, if given the chance, those living in poverty could move out of poverty. But how? How do I work for change especially when so many Americans are comfortable with the way society is right now? How do I convince others that it is our God-given responsibility to work for justice and equality and for the well-being of ALL people, not just ourselves? These are questions I am struggling with not only in my interactions with clients, but also with recent happenings at my agency, and even in conversations with family and friends.

I start the second half of my year focused and ready to take on what seems like the impossible. This is the start of learning what it really means to be a woman for and with others. Would you like to join me on this journey?