Speech

I wrote a speech about HIV/AIDs for a Dreams of Hope conference coming up...

I’ve never met someone that told me they had AIDs or HIV. I don’t know what I would do. I’ve heard what you’re supposed to do in health class. And I swear, I’ve paid attention, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I would freeze or say something wrong. I’d end up killing all their hopes and dreams. They’d have to start listening to happy songs that make them feel better. You’re gunna miss me when I’m gone. You’re gunna miss me by my hair. You’re gunna miss me everywhere. You’re gunna miss me by my walk. You’re gunna miss me by my talk. You’re gunna miss me when I’m gone.  We’ve already lost so many to disease. That I’m sure.

When I think about it, diseases formed the world, and this includes HIV and AIDs. There’s a book I read in history class by Jared Diamond. It was called Guns, Germs, and Steel. Weapons and industrialization has formed the modern world. Obvious. Everyone could come up with that.

What we might not consider is how disease has shaped us too. Chicken pox killed off thousands of indigenous peoples. Do we acknowledge that loss? Only as a part of history. Maybe the loss of so many from this disease will be the same. Just part of any other history lesson. Part of the past.

I see the disease as more than just a slide in a presentation about how we came to be. HIV and AIDs has touched us enough to give us rules in society. Don’t share needles. Don’t have relationships without knowing lovers’ pasts. Make sure you are safe. But it also gave us rules about how to treat it. Not medically. Emotionally. I can only imagine though really. It’s a whisper in the wind, something heard about but distant and changing.

I picture a doctor sitting over his wooden desk, pinching his nose and stroking his glasses over piles of paperwork. He searches desperately to find a mistake in the results. Darkened, scientific eyes. Hours spent trying to avoid giving someone a death sentence. Another number to the statistic of among nearly 50,000 people for the year. 50,001 now.

That one has a past, a present, and a future. Does each doctor see that? No. They couldn’t. They don’t have the energy for that. But we see it, right? As a friend, or a lover, or a parent, or beloved teacher, or pet dog that they’ll have to come home to everyday. No one to wag their tail at. No one to fill the food bowl after a while. The future changes. They could’ve been CEO’s or pro basketball players. Or mothers and nurses. Who knows.

Of course, an HIV positive result isn’t the end of the world, right? It can still be a good life. They can still dream. Still hope. Still love. Carefully. Within boundaries.

That’s what it is to me, a boundary. An opportunity to live within a cage. A death sentence to the future.

I guess there’s only so much one can do after getting a death sentence though. Pray. Breathe. Relax. Dream. Don’t stop believing. Keep moving forward.

For the rest of us, all we can do is sit by. Hold them. Love them until their final breath and carry out their legacy in the best way we can. By being their future for them. Never let them truly die.