The first question people always want to ask me, but never do, is how I contracted HIV. This is an important question, in our time, because it represents a category that we can put people in. If we can find an excuse to blame a person, even while pitying and judging them, we can feel a little safer—a little better about ourselves. Fear, as ever, is a powerful motivator.

I contracted HIV in a way that sounds unusual but is actually rather common. I was raped by a man who was HIV+. People gasp and shudder at that—tell me how awful it is. They try to tip-toe around questions regarding my mental health, and they try to figure out if I am, in fact, gay.

When I tell them that I am a homosexual, the gasp often turns into a nod—as if to say, 'My, that's awful, but you know—these things happen sometimes, when you're gay.' I say nothing in response to that, of course. These things happen when you're straight, too. And when you're a woman. And when you're a child. (I was a child.) These things—happen.

World AIDS Day is about more than raising money and awareness for HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment. It's about trying to erase the stigma attached to AIDS.

That is what I'm here to talk about.

Last year, when I was diagnosed with my second bout of Hodgkin's Lymphoma, I walked into the doctor's office a cancer patient. I left an AIDS patient. Up until the point the nurse read my chart, I received smiles and well-wishes and support. She patted my shoulder. She spoke to me in soft, kind tones.

And then she looked in my file.

It's ironic that a healthcare worker—who should know better than anyone that you cannot get HIV by talking to a person—would have such misguided prejudices regarding a disease. Ironic, but not unexpected. Healthcare workers are people, too. Fear is a common denominator.

She said, rather predictably, "Oh, I guess this is from the HIV?" and from that point on I received no encouragement. Her tone was cold and distant. Her hands were shaking. I could tell, when I switched rooms to get measured for the radiation treatments, that she'd been chatting about me with the other nurses. Not one of them smiled. Two of them looked down and avoided future eye contact.

Apparently I can burn HIV into people with my eyes. Look out, Chuck Norris!

I wish I could say that this is a rare occurrence, but it's not—and it's not even the worst of it. I've been spit on, physically attacked, insulted, and told I am a prime example of Survival of the Fittest still at work. People who do not know me (and even some who do), who know only that I am a HIV+ homosexual, have told me that I deserve to die from this disease—and painfully. I have lost friends. I have lost partners. I have lost the respect of coworkers and strangers on the street.

And sometimes it's all a bit tiring.

Please understand: the way I (or anyone else) contracted HIV is not important. It should not be the first question on the tip of your tongue. When someone tells you that they've been diagnosed with Breast Cancer, do you ask how they got it? No. The first thing you say is, "I'm so sorry," usually followed by some offer of help or support. When someone tells you that they are HIV, the first thing most people do—even now—is take a few steps back and try to get away.

I am not asking for pity or guilt. I am asking for compassion.

No one deserves to die from this disease. Yes, there are those who've made mistakes in their lives—mistakes that have led to any number of things. But if one of those mistakes led to contracting HIV, those people are already "paying" for it for the rest of their lives. They don't need you to judge them, too.

You do not have to like who a person is or what a person has done—you do not have to know someone's entire life story—to be considerate to another human being. Respect others. It doesn't take much.

If there is one thing that you can do on the first day of December, it's to try to change yourself. Look around you, consult your conscience, and see if there's room in there to allow some civility towards people with HIV/AIDS. I'm not asking you to go out and support the cause. I'm not asking you to agree with homosexuality or any number of other things. I'm just asking you to consider how you treat those you come in contact with.

This year's theme is Take the Lead.



Will you take the lead in fighting against the HIV/AIDS stigma?



For more information about HIV/AIDS prevention and awareness, as well as information about World AIDS Day, please explore the links below:

Be Aware.
Be Informed.
Be a Leader.