Caring for the Least of These: A Pastor’s Story
In recognition of National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day (Feburary 7), Bishop John L. Selders, a member of HRC’s Religion Council, published the following op-ed focusing on the black American perspective.
Jamal, a same gender loving man of color, was diagnosed 10 years ago as HIV positive. He can’t hold a job, battles with drug addiction and suffers from serious depression, which makes focusing on a daily medication ritual extremely difficult. He has no car and public transportation isn’t an option without help. Years of poor health, mental illness, lack of family support and the daily grind of coping with the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS, has made his life nearly unbearable. Due to the ministry of a housing project I run, in collaboration with Hartford and the state of Connecticut, he is still surviving. Through this partnership he receives decent affordable housing, social support services, transportation assistance, subsidized medication along with his disability check, and professional support for maintaining a complex prescription plan. In response to the economic downturn, however, the state is currently proposing cuts up to 40% for HIV/AIDS. The result will be dire for Jamal.
Jamal’s story is just one of many I deal with everyday. As a pastor in an urban setting, HIV/AIDS cases don’t come to me as abstract statistics nor as the stereotypes our culture likes to conjure up--the homeless black girl, the same gender loving Latino man on the down low, the strung out drug addict. I face people with complex lives and identities, who don’t have the luxury to “manage their care” because they are overwhelmed by the details of “managing” an unfair healthcare system. The people I see are overwhelmed with the details of care: “How will I get to the doctor?” “Who will take care of the children?” “How will I pay for medication?” “How much does my disability check cover?” The list goes on and on. For those on the margins, managing HIV/AIDS takes time, and it takes the help of a very large community.
As a preacher, I tell my congregation we are judged by our response when resources are scarce, not when they are plentiful. As we face the threat of economic crisis, we find ourselves now in one of those judgment moments. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, as of 2006 more than a million adults and adolescents are dealing with the HIV infection in the United States. Even worse, we now know that over 56,000 new infections occur yearly. We also know that those most marginalized in our communities--gay and bisexual men of all races and African-Americans and Hispanic/Latino people of all sexual orientations--are most affected. African Americans constitute nearly half of all people living with HIV in the U.S., with Latinos following quickly behind. Of these, black men are six times more likely than are white men to get infected and Latino men are two times as likely as are white men. To put this in perspective, African Americans make up 12% of the population and Latinos make up 15%.
The United States has an impressive healthcare system for those who can afford it, but it is a health “failing” system for many. As a pastor who has presided at the funerals of far too many people whose death was caused not from HIV/AIDS, but from the deadly cocktail of racism, heterosexism, homophobia and poverty, I refuse to be silent. On this National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day, I ask that you refuse to be silent as well.
Let us applaud what we should. President Obama has endorsed the National AIDS Strategy proposed by leading HIV/AIDS organizations joined under the “Aids In America” umbrella. Designed to increase access to HIV/AIDS care and reduce racial disparities, this holistic plan will put us on the right track. As a community, it is our responsibility to let the Obama administration and our representatives know that we need them to remain firm in their support of this plan. At the same time, we must speak out against proposed cuts in state funding for HIV/AIDS. I know, for instance, that the 40 % proposed cut to HIV/AIDS funding in Connecticut will not only be a death knoll for Jamal but will escalate the numbers of people reduced to similar destitute circumstances.
As a member of the Human Rights Campaign Religion Council who advocates from a faith perspective for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people, I am grateful for a national voice to speak out for those who don’t have one. If we are not addressing the heterosexism so prevalent in our churches, we will only perpetuate the spread of HIV/AIDS. But as we fight heterosexism we must also remember that the plight of same gender loving people is part of a larger story of poverty and racism that extends to women and children. Dr. Martin Luther King taught us that “we are woven together into the seamless garment of destiny.” In that spirit, it is time to make the HIV/AIDS epidemic your epidemic, no matter your current health status, income, sexual orientation, gender identity, or race.
You can start by learning more about the crisis. For more information, visit http://www.aidsaction.org/, http://www.nmac.org/, and http://www.nationalaidsstrategy.org/. Then go to http://www.blackaidsday.org/