The Cycle

The other day I finished reading Adrian Nicole LeBlanc's book Random Family: Love, Drugs, Trouble, and Coming of Age in the Bronx, a great book recommended to me by Dr. Naison this past summer. Focusing in on the Tremont area of the Bronx and a family that lives there, LeBlanc really dives into the everyday struggles of living in poverty - the violence, the substandard living conditions, the lack of optimism for a better future, the cycle of poverty, and the drugs. While reading, I noticed a lot of underlying themes that really made me think about new approaches to preventing the spread of HIV and other STDs.

By looking at youth growing up in the Bronx, LeBlanc writes about how sex is almost like a currency in impoverished communities. Sex has little to no moral or intimate value. Sex is a way to get what you want. Girls sleep with guys because they need someone to but diapers for their babies or because they need help with something. Youth become sexually active as early as 10 and 11 and many young girls are getting pregnant by 16, if not younger. I was thinking a lot about my thesis while reading this book. While I was planning out my thesis, a classmate had offered up the suggestion that I look deeply at the HIV statistics in the 10458 zip code - Fordham's zip code - and dive into comparing that with the culture at Fordham. Though that is not the route that I eventually took in my thesis, reading LeBlanc's book made me do this in a less detailed way.

Often times when people talk about the prevention of HIV, they focus on a few specific ways on how to stop the spread of the virus, all of which revolve around one thing: education. Prevention education typically discusses what HIV is, how it is spread, and how to protect oneself from infection. I remember my days in East Hartford where we started talking about AIDS in 6th grade. Our education was exactly as described below: this is what it is, this is how it's spread, this is how to protect yourself. We never talked about much more than that. We never discussed condom negotiation or relationships. Most school districts around the country don't talk about more than the basic facts unless they are mandated by the state government to do so. 

Prevention, though, is about more than the most basic of education. This is clear in the way that LeBlanc writes about sex in the Bronx among young people. We have to look at the culture of those who are most at risk for becoming infected with HIV if we are to really work to prevent the spread of this epidemic. It is very apparent that the basic education is not working because sex is an everyday part of life for those living in poverty - it is all around them. Think about it: a mom got pregnant at 16 and gives birth to her first child; this child grows up without being exposed to a different way of life and is very likely to get pregnant at 16 and give birth to her first child. Sex is all around - sexual abuse, casual sex, sex for money, sex for drugs. How do we take this culture and understand it to the point that we can make a significant impact on the way sex is viewed? We cannot effectively prevent the spread of HIV until the culture of life in poverty is understood, and that culture is worked with in order to educate. Not just that...education must go beyond the basics. Comprehensive sexual education is a must in all schools, especially those in communities most at risk for infection. We must talk about more than transmission! We must talk about SEX.

In my time at the Alliance of AIDS Services - Carolina, I have worked mostly with folks in their 40s and 50s. These are the clients I have established relationships with - the ones who come to the pantry the most, who I see often. Something I've noticed, though, is that many of our new clients, especially those being bridged into services, are much younger - my age. Our assistant director of prevention was talking the other day about a 19 year old female who they just diagnosed. Young people are still the age group with the highest infection rates...across the country. What can we do about it? I wonder that everyday, and I really think that Random Family gave me some deeper insight. Until we really look at poverty and the culture of those living in poverty, we are going to keep doing the same things, and those methods are not working. Sex is still seen as having little value. Fatherhood is not valued. Pregnancy is not seen as the end of the world. Life in poverty is not life in the middle class. Until we look more deeply, the cycle will continue...

Turning Home

As my anticipation grows for my trip back to the greatest city in the world for a little visit, I've found myself focusing a lot on where I come from. There's this song I've been singing over and over in my head for months now: "Turning Home" by David Nail. In the song, he talks a lot about the challenges of living far from home but the beauty in remembering the wonderful things home has taught him. It's been making me think about all that I've learned from my two homes - East Hartford and NYC. All the people, all the experiences, all the challenges, all the joys...each has taught me something special and has helped shape the person I am today.

A few weeks ago, my dad sent me a random email that ended with the words "If you hadn't gone to Fordham, you never would have joined JVC. I wonder where you would be today if that was the case." I think back to those days in the East Hartford Public School System. I still remember my best friend in middle school, Berri's, stories of her growing up and how angry the injustices made me. I can easily recall speaking in front of the Board of Education to tell them not to cut out sports, music, or the honors program because it would only make our school system worse. There are those long talks I used to have with Mr. Apostalon about his students and their stories; about the students that slipped through the cracks. I vividly remember the day he locked me in his classroom by myself and told me I needed to write my Valedictory Address for graduation...and the tears that came down my face as I put my entire heart into that speech. I remember the passion in that speech - my need to take a stand, to let the Board of Ed know that they weren't helping us, but they were harming us. To let everyone know that there is no reason to fear East Hartford or its schools. To remind my classmates how lucky we were to grow up in a racially and economically diverse town, where we were exposed to all of life's struggles. I remember watching Mr. Apostalon tear up when he read it for the first time. I remember our principal telling me to change some of it so it wouldn't sound like an attack. I clearly remember Mr. Jordan asking me right before we processed out for graduation if I had changed it, and telling him he would just have to wait and see...Of course I did not. I remember the day I got deferred from Columbia and exactly three months later when I found out I didn't get accepted at all. I clearly remember the heartbreak...but looking back now, I couldn't be happier that I attend Fordham University. It was at Fordham that my passion for change and my passion for social justice really had a chance to flourish. Those Jesuits definitely got ahold of me and reminded me that we are all here to make the world a better place, not just for ourselves but for everyone. That has fueled my fire for the past few years, on top of those experiences back in East Hartford. Living in the Bronx for 4 years opened my eyes even more.

Then there were those two service projects in Nashville, TN that changed my life forever. I may seem nostalgic right now, but there's good reason for it. It has been just over a year since I was last in Nashville, the place where my passion for the fight against HIV/AIDS started, and the place where that passion was reinvigorated two years later. I joined JVC because of those experiences. I started working in HIV/AIDS because of those trips, because of my teammates on those trips, but mostly because of the amazing men and women I met while in Nashville. Life in JVC in not easy. Life in a full-time position working not only with people living with HIV, but with those who are poor and sometimes homeless, is not easy. Everyday I stop and remind myself why I do what I do. And I think back to all of you who have influenced my life. I think about my days in East Hartford and my days in the Bronx...and I remember all that has happened in my life. The hurt; the love; the joy; the hard times; the struggles; the people; the passion. I cannot stop this...I will not stop this.

Like my dad, I often wonder where I would be today if my life had been different...if my parents hadn't gotten divorced; if we had moved to South Windsor like my mom had wanted to for a while; if I didn't go to Fordham; if I was never introduced to the Jesuit tradition; if Dr. Naison didn't inspire me; if Dr. Lee didn't teach me about Liberation Theology; if my amazing friends on my Nashville teams didn't push me. There is something about home that always reminds me never to quit. It is home that keeps me going each day, no matter how hard, because it is home that taught me everything I know. Whether it's my home in East Hartford or my home in the Bronx...I would not be where I am today, I would not be the woman I am today, if I hadn't had those experiences. I do not know where life will take me. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. What I do know is I am blessed to have lived the life I have lived thus far and so very grateful for my amazing family, friends, professors, and mentors who have been along for the ride. God bless you all...and thank you. 

Usually take one last pass through town
Stop the car and touch the ground
Watch those streetlights swayin’ in the breeze
Decorated store fronts
Rusty old gas pumps
Try to fill my mind up
With somethin’ before I go
Picture postcard memories
You know they always make for good company

I don’t know no town
Like the old town
Even when the miles are many
I feel like I’m still around
Deep inside me
Like rings through an oak tree
Yeah, there something ‘bout a Sunday when I’m gone
That keeps me turning home

I’m standin’ here beneath these billboard lights
Takes me back to those autumn nights
Hometown bleachers packed real tight
As we marched down the field
My feet would swing from a dropped tailgate
Out on Airport Road real late
No one could walk a line too straight
We usually made it home alright
And glory days I cant re-live
Stories I’ll never forget

And I don’t know no friends
Like the old friends
I never seem to laugh now
Like I did with them
But deep inside me
A piece of history
Yeah, I hear their voices even though they’re gone
And it keeps me turning home

Never twice the same way does it start
And sure enough she stole my heart
On the old gym floor, spinnin’ round and round one night
And though we both tried hard to wait
We sure did love the taste
Of the sweet love being made and prayin’ I got it right
Graduation came and went
Along with all the time we spent

And I don’t know no love
Like the first love
When I think about the best times
She’s the one I think of
Deep inside me
All though the taste is bittersweet
I see her smilin’ even though she’s gone
And it keeps me turning home, yeah
And it keeps me turning home

"Turning Home" - David Nail

"Rewards"

A week or so ago, my community members and I went to the Dominician Priory in Raleigh with our beloved Fr. Ray. Six Dominican priests live in a beautiful, albeit simple, home about 1.5 miles from our house. When we got there, we joined them in praying the evening Vespers - a very new experience for me. Then we sat down for some appetizers and Fr. Jude's amazing pasta and sausage combo meal. The conversations were rich, as we shared our experiences with the priests and they shared their stories with us. Later on in the evening, one of the Dominicans asked us a question that really seemed to catch us off-guard...I know that I was sort of stunned. A simple question: What has been most rewarding for you in this experience? So often, we focus on the negative - the challenges we face each day, the sufferings we encounter through our clients, our own struggles with interpersonal relationships or our realtionships with ourselves. When someone asks something as basic as what has been the best reward in the past 6 months, it has a tendency to take your breath away.

I started to think about the past six months (finding it hard to believe that my first year as a JV is half over) and about my daily work. I began to think about the experiences that I have had that have forced me to confront my fears, pushed me to question my beliefs, and begged me to change my perspective. As I reflected on my time in Raleigh, I immediately realized that each of the most meaningful experiences I have had thus far revolve around people: my clients; my co-workers; my community members. Relationships. It is through the building of relationships with others that I find joy. It is through learning about the experiences of others that I find beauty in this world. It is through hearing the stories of others that my worldview changes. Remember Ja'mez, the four-year old who held my hands to say Grace before eating lunch together? Or Michael who could not afford the $12 admission to see his son play basketball? Or Terry who was homeless? Or the many other clients I meet every day who trust me, who respect me, and who have grown to love me and who I've grown to love?

There is something so beautiful about being able to connect with people on the most basic levels, and to love others like Jesus loved us all and Mother Teresa loved all people. My clients bring joy to my life every day as I watch them grow in our reltionship. Like when Ivan stops shopping just to give me a hug; or when Mr. James tells me about his eating habits; or Patricia tells me new stories about her two young daughters; or when Terry lets me move him into his new apartment; or when Deitra calls to ask what she can donate to the food pantry; or when Ja'mez's parents share their anxieties about his new school with me. There is such beauty in watching love flourish and in seeing someone grow to care about you outside of the basic client-worker relationship. Even through their struggles, my clients bring such light into my life. I feel comfortable wiht them and want to share myself with them, too.

This has all really been symbolized through three interactions with a client who is just 12 days older than me. I will call him Tommy, though that is not his name. Tommy came into my office in January for an intake. He was diagnosed with HIV in the late summer of 2010 after serving in the Army for 3 years. I felt a really special connection with him when we first met because he, too, is just 22 years old. It is as though we know so much about each other because of the simple fact that we are the same age. Though our childhoods have been very different and our experiences differ drastically, in our first meeting, you could just tell that we had a special connection. I remember how anxious he was that day and how nervous he was to share anything with me. He did not tell me much about his diagnosis or how he has been dealing with it. He did not talk too much about his family or his support system, but simply gave me the most basic information - where he works, where he lives, with whom he lives, who his doctor is, etc. Then something clicked. I asked him if he had any special vocational trainings and then watched as his face lit up. He began to tell me about his three years in the Army and all the certificates he had earned. He was so proud of those three years and expressed how much he really misses the Army. It was then that I realized that he was growing in trust with me.

A few weeks later, I had heard that he would be starting up on an HIV treatment regimen and was not sure how he was going to pay for the expensive meds. He came in and we sat down and talked about his options. He has health insurance through the Army, but for some reason it was not working when he went to the pharmacy to fill his script. His anxiety really started to show again, and I told him everything would work out, that he needed to call the insurance company and see what was happening. He called me a few days later, full of excitement, to tell me that everything was all set and he could start his meds and it would only cost $9.00 a month. After that conversation, I really saw our friendship take root. He came in for financial assistance last week, so excited that he had finally saved enough money to move out of his grandparents' house. Even though he was anxious about needing assistance, just seeing me seemed to calm him down. We laughed together about stupid stuff; got frustrated together when talking about his hours and check garnishments. It is difficult to articulate my feelings toward our friendship, but when he took me out to see his new, and very used, car, that is when it clicked. tommy is just like me - a 22-year old, care-free individual who just wants to be himself and to be happy. As he yelled at me not to look at the french fries on the floor of his car, I realized how he just wants to be a young adult, without his HIV dictating who he is, who he can be, or what he can do. I felt us connect on the most bsic of human levels in that moment. I couldn't stop smiling when he left my office.

I feel like I found a freind - someone who will respect me and love me, even if I can't do everything. Though I may not feel this way with every client I meet or work with, I am really beginning to realize how central relationships are to who I am. They shape who I am and what I eblieve every day. My clients teach me new things, offer me new perspectives, and constantly remind me why I have dedicated my life to fighting for social justice. Sure, they also frustrate me on the regular, and often times make me upset or angry. But they truly bless me everyday.

When we got home from the Dominican priory last week, Fr. Ray was talking to us about happiness and what we think is important in life. Our society teaches us to be selfish and that money defines who you are and how happy you can be. I have always said that I don't care how much money I make, so long as I love what I do everyday. Life isn't about the size of your bank account or how many friends you have. Life isn't about the material rewards. Life is about finding joy and beauty in the every day and in the relationships that you build. This is not only what has been most rewarding to me in my JV experience so far; this is what is most rewarding about life.