When I was in my doctoral program, I had to take a grant writing course. As part of that course, we had to give a mini-seminar on our proposed research to the department. At the time, I was considering an HIV intervention where by hair stylists would be trained to deliver the intervention to their African American female clients. After I presented my talk, one of the faculty members in attendance made some disparaging remarks to the effect that she couldn't understand why I am so "obsessed" with HIV in the Black community. It was almost like she was trying to say that HIV is no longer an issue. While my dissertation topic did change out of a need to graduate in time to start medical school, it still focused on HIV and the Black community. If I could go back in time, I'd like to explain why HIV and BIPOC communities obsesses me so.
When I was in the Army, my best friend, Jeavon Luceina, and I went through basic training and AIT together. It was while we were at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX that I found out that Jeavon was non-binary. This was in 1991 so I don't even know if the term "Non-Binary" was a thing back then but whatever, I just saw Jeavon as Jeavon. Jeavon was an outstanding soldier, an immensley skilled medic, and one of the best people that I knew. Jeavon suffered though. At the time that we were in the Army, the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy was in place so while on duty, Jeavon had to be "he" and when off duty, they could be themselves, but never fully. If you have ever lived in a military town, these towns tend to be small and everyone knows everyone. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to walk around everyday, all day with my guard up.
Anyway, after AIT at Ft. Sam Houston, we went our seperate ways. I heard from Jeavon periodically over the years but finally, I just stopped hearing from them until 1998. Jeavon must've gotten in touch with my pop. I was living in Houston by now and was off of active duty. I was working as a patient care tech at St. Lukes Hospital. Jeavon let me know that he had AIDS and probably didn;t have long to live. They wanted to go home to Guam but their family was not accepting of Jeavon's queerness. The Chamorro people were traditionally very accepting of the LGBTQIA community, but after Spanish and then American colonization, the people started to adopt a more Western-centric view of the LGBTQIA community. Things started to change in Guam in 1978 but unfortunately, there are some families that hold on to the Western view (i.e., American) view of the LGBTQIA community. Jeavon wanted to go home to die but couldn't. I took Jeavon in and cared for them for the last six or seven months of their life. A group of our friends got the money together to hold proper remembrance services. Those last months of Jeavon's life were sad because they could not be with their family. I cannot fathom what it would be like to face the end of my life in a place that is foreign to me while not being around the people that I love. The stigma and ignorance that Jeavon faced contributed to their death...
In 2006, I met the woman who would become my wife. Her father, Derrick L. Anderson, was an HIV positive gay Black male. Derrick was an internationally known HIV and human rights activist but more importantly, he was a father, brother, uncle, son, and one of the finest people that I ever met.
On Nov. 23rd of '06, Derrick suffered what seemed like a minor car accident. He didn't go to the hospital or anything and the next day, he celebrated Thanksgiving with his family. By that evening, he wasn't feeling well and he later vomited blood and was rushed to the hospital. At the time, I was living in Portland, OR so I couldn't be with Eboni as she narrated everything that was happening at the hospital ER. During triage, Derrick was asked his HIV status and when he said that he was positive, the way that the hospital treated him changed. Instead of doing an ultrasound of his belly or any other imaging tests, the hospital spent about 12 or 13 hours trying to transfer him to a different hospital. Why? Because the ER docs and truama surgeon on duty were afraid to potentially perform a surgery on Derrick because of him being HIV positive. Early in the morning on the 2th of November, the hospital realized that there was not going to be a transfer (It was snowing and the roads were iced over) so they decided to do something. They did an ultrasound of Derrick's belly and it was full of blood. By this point, he'd lapsed into a coma and the attending physician told Eboni that she needed to make a call regarding keeping him on life support. She opted to let her daddy go. As it turned out, Derrick had suffered a small tear in his descending aorta and had bleed out over the course of those few days between the time that he had the accident and his passing at the hospital. This isn't what killed him though. The ignorance, fear, stigma, and indifference of the people who should have tried to save him is what killed him.
This is why I am so obsessed with HIV, PrEP, HIV interventions, and ending HIV in the BIPOC community. I have seen to many Black and Brown people suffer, needlessly, because of HIV-related fear and stigma, ignorance, hate, and discrimination. Black and Latinx gay males and cis-Black women are still contracting and dying at rates far higher than the general population. Trans-Black and Latinx women are at particular danger from HIV-related morbidity and mortality and the violence that they are particularly vulnerable to. I'm 50 years old now and will be 54 by the time I finish medical school and 57 by the time I finish residency. I pray that the Lord will allow me to have a 30-35 year career in medicine so that I may do my part to see a day when HIV no longer affects BIPOC communities in the way that it does. Better yet, I pray that the Lord allows me to live to see a day when HIV is no longer an issue for ANY community in America or around the world. This is why I do what I do. No matter what my former professor or people like her may say, nothing will deter me from fighting this fight.
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