A few days before Dec. 1, World AIDS Day, I received an e-mail sent to my non-government organization’s employee list describing our proposed activities for the event. This memo was the first time I had ever even heard of World AIDS Day. When I looked at a few news websites, many of which are based in the United States, I found references to this global celebration of awareness spattered throughout their webpages. Only a few days before, I had openly wondered about the danger of the news media’s concentration on HIV in those areas most affected, like Sub-Saharan Africa. Although clearly this focus makes sense, could it perhaps lull Americans into a false sense of security about the virus?
I am currently volunteering in one of those hotbeds of HIV/AIDS activity getting so much attention from Western media: Zambia. With a national infection rate of around 20 percent, Zambia stands as one of the countries hardest hit by what locals refer to simply as “kadoyo,” or “the virus.” My work concerns assisting with the set up and management of HIV clinics for pregnant women in a small town outside of the capital, Lusaka.
Before coming to Zambia, I read up on countless journal articles concerning general HIV information as well as those focusing on my work, the prevention of mother-to-child transmission of HIV. I assumed I would learn Zambian culture quickly and my scientific background would help deter the spread of this epidemic.
Recently, I attended a mandatory HIV sensitization workshop for all employees of my NGO, from doctors to the gardener. My symptomatic and epidemiological knowledge of HIV was confirmed as the lecturer went over the standard modes of transmission. Heck, I thought, not only do I know the specifics of CD4 counts, but I have also memorized the typical reasons locals give for not getting tested.
The lecturer abruptly displayed my ignorance about the virus when he asked the audience, all of whom are dedicated in one way or another to fighting HIV, how many had gotten tested. In a room of more than 60 people, five raised their hands. I was not one of them.
I have implored countless people to get tested for HIV, and I am constantly working to set up more testing and counseling programs in my town. Like many Americans, I support my government’s decision to donate billions of dollars to fight HIV/AIDS worldwide. But—also like so many Americans—I have never gotten tested for HIV.
I used to find a certain modicum of faith in my nationality’s low HIV prevalence rate. Just a few months ago, sitting in Alabama, I naively thought of HIV/AIDS as “a foreign problem”: one really only felt by those in third-world countries. I forgot about how the fear of AIDS ravaged the United States in the ’80s and ’90s, and how its prevalence rates are currently on the rise in certain U.S. populations. I can easily rattle off all the correct ways to prevent the spread of HIV, but I am unable to tell anyone the most important piece of information: my status.
Extensive knowledge of HIV prevention does not translate into being HIV negative. Most Zambians report knowing what HIV is and many can even name the ways to prevent its transmission. I have yet to meet a single person here that does not know that HIV is spread through unprotected sexual intercourse as well as other means. Obviously the message is out there, but, just as obvious, it has not stunted the growing infection rate.
In the United States, we have been inundated with information about HIV since its first appearance in the early ’80s. But stigma grew over its supposed selective impact on both the gay male and drug-abusing populations. Only when several high-profile figures, such as Magic Johnson, contracted the virus did many Americans start taking the threat seriously. Now, HIV/AIDS affects less than 1 percent of the U.S. population and our collective head has turned to the horrific numbers coming out of such areas as Southern Africa and India. But are we gazing past the HIV problem in, say, New York, by focusing on the rest of world?
Almost 1 million people in the United States are estimated to have HIV, and at least half of those are not aware of their infection. The United States ranks 67th in the world for HIV prevalence among adults, in a world with far more than 67 countries. Clearly work is left to be done not only across oceans but also in our own backyard.
My ignorance about World AIDS Day, while primarily due to my own myopia on the subject, also represents a general lack of disseminating information in the United States. I would not be surprised if many Americans assume it could be called “Rest-of-the-World AIDS Day.” I certainly would have only a few months ago. Perhaps in the wake of this year’s awareness event, Americans should turn the magnifying glass onto our own HIV problem. Only then can we, without hypocrisy, attempt to aid the rest of the world with theirs. Of course, our first step toward doing that is our first step towards our local testing clinic.
Shelton Wright is a Trinity ’04 graduate.
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