Today is National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day. This year's theme is "I am my brother/sister's keeper." It's a statement for how important community can be in the fight against HIV/AIDS, and a reminder that our brothers and sisters who are infected are, still, our beloved brothers and sisters.

Increasing awareness has helped us make strides in HIV prevention and treatment, but still, populations like black communities, black women, and people in prisons are experiencing disproportionate rates of infection. As you know, I believe in the power of sharing stories, as Catherine Wyatt-Morley bravely does in this story of learning to live with HIV and without shame. But this article contains the words "Hers was not the face of HIV."

Is there a real face of HIV? The idea that there is suggests that we could just close our eyes and forget that face, rather than remembering that it could be the face of our brother, our sister, or the face we see in the mirror. The photography project "A Day with HIV in America" features folks with powerful stories about living with and caring for those with HIV and AIDS, and it shows a great variety of faces. It's a stunning example of how telling stories through art can open our eyes to the world we live in, moving beyond the silence and shame, the myths and hurtful stigma that allow this disease to continue knocking on our doors. If we never answer, never face the truth, it doesn't change the world we live in. It just leaves us in the dark, afraid to step into the light.

So, what will you do for National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day? Get tested? Spread the word? Attend an event? There's no reason to fear this day, or any other day on which AIDS is part of our reality. We got this.
 
 
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You may know that I call myself an activist, and I believe in speaking up to create change. You may have also noticed that there are a number of activists speaking up throughout the country in a growing demonstration. So, have I been a part of #Occupy Wall Street? The simple answer is no, not yet.

I have to be honest - my initial impression of this movement to occupy Wall Street and other financial centers throughout the country was not good. Sure, I agree with their goals – setting aside, temporarily, the fact that there is no official list of stated goals. Word is that the protesters are against corporate greed, social and economic inequality, inadequate healthcare and education, and more, and they’re calling for the kind of social change that I would stand behind. So why haven’t I joined the demonstrations?

Well, first of all, I’ve been skeptical about this broad approach to creating change. I understand that all of these causes are interrelated, and to address one requires acknowledgement of the others, but I tend to believe that an action requires a stated goal and some kind of focus in order to effectively create change. “The end of corporate greed” seems too vague to me to state as an achievable goal.

Then again, the protesters may have a myriad of demands, but they seem to be having no trouble making them known. And rather than fizzle out due to a lack of focus, the demonstrations seem to be growing in size and influence. Was I wrong about them?

As an activist, I think it’s time to at least pay attention to what’s happening, to take note of what’s working and what’s still falling short. Clearly, one good thing is that at least the protesters are being heard. The demonstration is spreading, to more people and more cities, to everyone from celebrities to unions, and hopefully that means that somebody’s listening.

Will this create change, though? Perhaps only time will tell. One of my concerns is that the protesters’ declaration that “We Are the 99%” of those who are struggling dismisses the fact that there are some who don’t feel included in this movement. Protesters are speaking up about economic inequalities, so are they also addressing the racial and gender inequalities that contribute to these conditions? Some people of color say no. Many of the protesters have suggested that their feelings are “universal,” but as Kai Wright points out in this brilliant essay, “The problem with a universal framework is that what is dominant also gets called universal.” And without awareness of this, even those working toward the same purpose as I am can fail to see my perspective on the issue.

For me personally, one positive thing about observing all of this is that it’s given me a chance to step back and reexamine my feelings about approaches to activism. When considering art as activism, are stated goals and achievable demands required for a piece to be effective? Or is it enough to inspire hope and call for change, opening the door for whatever form that change may take?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. For now, I’m going to keep reflecting, keep embodying activism as it works for me, standing in solidarity with those who are demonstrating, and hoping for this action to develop into tangible justice for all.

 
 
I'm dedicating today's poem to the good people of POWER, who, rather than staying hushed, are speaking up. They're spending the morning calling for accountability from the City of San Francisco and fighting for justice for low-income people of color. Read details here of the legal showdown over health concerns surrounding the construction in the Bayview-Hunter's Point area of the city.

Go POWER!

Here's a rough poem I've been piecing together.


hush

here is where we learn to hush:
         at mama’s bedside
to sleep, she needs the silence
    of secrets submerged
   below soft voices
        hush         hush

here is where we learn to hush:
         before the pulpit
  voices may boom from behind it
     but from where we sit,
not a word of the pain resting in the pew
              not a word
          hush          hush

here is where we learn to hush:
          before school
             in school
           after school
where words don’t come from live voices
     where words are set it stone
           hush          hush

   we learn to keep our voices scattered
  never gather enough sound at one time
      for it’s always time to hush, now,
           hush           hush
   
     so silent before we shout

Maisha Z. Johnson
 
 
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October is flying by, which means the November 2 elections are just next week. Election season is an important time to make our voices heard – though we may not always feel like our opinions can make a difference.

Prop 19 is the focus of a lot of attention, as California voters prepare to decide whether or not to legalize marijuana. To me, this issue isn’t only about recreational users like middle-class college students who want to enjoy their weed without harassment. It’s also about folks who are medically ill, as well as about people of color who are prosecuted for marijuana use and shackled with the consequences at way higher rates than users who are white. It’s about addressing a justice system that’s broken and creating peace for those who suffer as a result.

But don’t take it from me – here’s an opinion piece written by my dad, a medical doctor, after researching the subject.

I was going to try to make this all official, all “blogger Maisha Z. Johnson brings you the expert opinion of Dr. Ian R. Johnson,” but let’s be real – here’s your Editor’s Note, from the perspective of someone who was raised by the guy: When I was growing up, he sure wouldn’t say anything in support of marijuana. It’s only recently that he’s been doing some research, and has shifted his opinion based on his findings. Another note: word has it that the polls have shifted since this piece was written, with support for Prop 19 falling behind. 

Click the "Read More" tab for the piece.