Dahlia Bell | SisterLove, Inc. MPH InternDahlia Bell has been on the front lines of advocacy and activism for HIV/AIDS and the community well before relocating to the Atlanta area in early 2004. Originally from the state of New York, Dahlia was born in Poughkeepsie and raised in Middletown, about an hour from the heart of New York City. Dahlia graduated from Vassar College with a degree in Psychology and a Correlate Sequence in Africana Studies. She recently worked for AID Atlanta, Inc., providing comprehensive case management and educational services to women affected by, and living with, HIV/AIDS. She is currently contracted with The Children and Teenager's Foundation, Inc. to provide in-home behavioral counseling and therapy to at-risk youth and their families. Dahlia presently holds the position of Project Manager and Coordinator with Faith Christian Center, Inc. and Andre Butler Ministries headquartered in Atlanta. She is also pursuing her Masters of Public Health Degree from the Morehouse School of Medicine in Atlanta, Georgia, where she resides.
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When I agreed to blog for SisterLove, I was both excited and frustrated. I was excited because I would finally have a place to share information and express my thoughts and feelings about HIV/AIDS and women’s health — two topics I am very passionate about. I was frustrated because I knew that I had so much to say but didn’t know where to begin. How would I find my voice? If, or when I did, who would want to listen? Would my words make a difference? Despite my anxiety, my passion for these topics forced me to move beyond my fear.
After an interesting conversation with two guys, both about my age, I suddenly knew where to begin. I talked with them about my work with women living with, and affected by, HIV/AIDS. One of them asked a question that I often get whenever I tell people that I have worked in an AIDS clinic. He wanted to know if the women with whom I worked still had sex, got married, and had children. When I told them that my clients led normal lives that often included sexual relationships, marriage, and healthy children, they both seemed amazed. The one who had asked the question openly expressed his disgust at the thought of women with HIV/AIDS having sex with people who were not infected. My other friend was also disgusted. And then it happened. One of the guys said that he wished there was a way to force HIV-positive women to tell everyone about their HIV status so that people who were not infected could avoid them. Even though I have heard this before, I couldn’t believe that I was hearing it again. Hearing it again in 2009 when so much progress has been made since HIV first appeared on the scene 26 years ago. He actually suggested that women with HIV/AIDS didn’t have a right to keep their status confidential. As I said, I have heard such things before, mainly from those who are not infected, and mainly from men. It’s as if women with HIV/AIDS are no longer human beings, no longer capable of loving, no longer worthy of being loved. It’s as if they’re damaged goods who serve no place in society except as objects of public humiliation. Injustice always follows this type of ignorance.
Should women living with HIV/AIDS be allowed to maintain healthy sexual relationships (regardless of their partner’s HIV status), birth children, and have the right to control their reproduction? Just imagine a male legislator, or even a female one, feeling as my male friends. Such beliefs and prejudices could lead to legislation that forces people to reveal their HIV status or takes funding away from organizations that work with people with HIV/AIDS. We can’t afford to take this kind of ignorance and prejudice lightly. This type of blatant discrimination would seriously affect women who are already facing major health challenges and hinder organizations dedicated to serving them.
My conversation with the men led me to think more about women, HIV/AIDS, and reproductive rights. The rate of HIV and AIDS among women, particularly African American women, is rising steadily and does not seem to be slowing down. We have to accept that we can’t consider how AIDS affects women without also considering that AIDS is an issue of reproductive justice. The term, reproductive justice, is relatively new, having appeared in the past few years. It was coined by a group of Black female activists to acknowledge the many issues that are related to women ’s sexual and reproductive health and rights. It was important to these activists that we all understand and acknowledge that achieving reproductive justice must involve challenging racism, sexism, gender and ethnicity based health disparities, economic injustice, and human rights violations that affect the lives of women all over the world. In looking at reproductive justice it is obvious that HIV/AIDS is most definitely included.
Reproductive injustice, particularly in regard to women infected with, and affected by, HIV/AIDS, is not going away any time soon. To bring about positive change we need more opportunities to talk openly about the rights of women, especially as it pertains to their positive or negative HIV status. I am not angry with my friends for how they feel. I know that too many in our society already feel the same way and will continue to feel this way. I hope that the information I shared with my friends caused them to reconsider their attitudes and beliefs, and maybe even left them with a different impression of HIV-positive women. I hope they now understand that an AIDS diagnosis is not a mark of shame and that being diagnosed does not change your status as a human being. I hope that others in our society engage in similar conversations. I hope that those living with HIV/AIDS are no longer isolated and ostracized and feel safe to manage their diagnosis without fear of injustice. We can’t leave it up to organizations like SisterLove and AID Atlanta to shoulder the responsibility to change our world and fight for justice. We each have to do our part. Every conversation and every action contributes to change. The recent 2008 presidential election reminded us of the power one person can have to change a social condition. I took the time to educate my male friends. It didn’t seem like a big action at the time but now I see that it was a step, a positive step, toward the change that we need.
After an interesting conversation with two guys, both about my age, I suddenly knew where to begin. I talked with them about my work with women living with, and affected by, HIV/AIDS. One of them asked a question that I often get whenever I tell people that I have worked in an AIDS clinic. He wanted to know if the women with whom I worked still had sex, got married, and had children. When I told them that my clients led normal lives that often included sexual relationships, marriage, and healthy children, they both seemed amazed. The one who had asked the question openly expressed his disgust at the thought of women with HIV/AIDS having sex with people who were not infected. My other friend was also disgusted. And then it happened. One of the guys said that he wished there was a way to force HIV-positive women to tell everyone about their HIV status so that people who were not infected could avoid them. Even though I have heard this before, I couldn’t believe that I was hearing it again. Hearing it again in 2009 when so much progress has been made since HIV first appeared on the scene 26 years ago. He actually suggested that women with HIV/AIDS didn’t have a right to keep their status confidential. As I said, I have heard such things before, mainly from those who are not infected, and mainly from men. It’s as if women with HIV/AIDS are no longer human beings, no longer capable of loving, no longer worthy of being loved. It’s as if they’re damaged goods who serve no place in society except as objects of public humiliation. Injustice always follows this type of ignorance.
Should women living with HIV/AIDS be allowed to maintain healthy sexual relationships (regardless of their partner’s HIV status), birth children, and have the right to control their reproduction? Just imagine a male legislator, or even a female one, feeling as my male friends. Such beliefs and prejudices could lead to legislation that forces people to reveal their HIV status or takes funding away from organizations that work with people with HIV/AIDS. We can’t afford to take this kind of ignorance and prejudice lightly. This type of blatant discrimination would seriously affect women who are already facing major health challenges and hinder organizations dedicated to serving them.
My conversation with the men led me to think more about women, HIV/AIDS, and reproductive rights. The rate of HIV and AIDS among women, particularly African American women, is rising steadily and does not seem to be slowing down. We have to accept that we can’t consider how AIDS affects women without also considering that AIDS is an issue of reproductive justice. The term, reproductive justice, is relatively new, having appeared in the past few years. It was coined by a group of Black female activists to acknowledge the many issues that are related to women ’s sexual and reproductive health and rights. It was important to these activists that we all understand and acknowledge that achieving reproductive justice must involve challenging racism, sexism, gender and ethnicity based health disparities, economic injustice, and human rights violations that affect the lives of women all over the world. In looking at reproductive justice it is obvious that HIV/AIDS is most definitely included.
Reproductive injustice, particularly in regard to women infected with, and affected by, HIV/AIDS, is not going away any time soon. To bring about positive change we need more opportunities to talk openly about the rights of women, especially as it pertains to their positive or negative HIV status. I am not angry with my friends for how they feel. I know that too many in our society already feel the same way and will continue to feel this way. I hope that the information I shared with my friends caused them to reconsider their attitudes and beliefs, and maybe even left them with a different impression of HIV-positive women. I hope they now understand that an AIDS diagnosis is not a mark of shame and that being diagnosed does not change your status as a human being. I hope that others in our society engage in similar conversations. I hope that those living with HIV/AIDS are no longer isolated and ostracized and feel safe to manage their diagnosis without fear of injustice. We can’t leave it up to organizations like SisterLove and AID Atlanta to shoulder the responsibility to change our world and fight for justice. We each have to do our part. Every conversation and every action contributes to change. The recent 2008 presidential election reminded us of the power one person can have to change a social condition. I took the time to educate my male friends. It didn’t seem like a big action at the time but now I see that it was a step, a positive step, toward the change that we need.
