Thursday's Report (Toronto AIDS Conference)

I have just returned from the Vigil that was held to honour, remember, and celebrate the lives of those who have died. I am reminded of the sorrowful legacy that AIDS has created; I am reminded of the reality of the pandemic.

For the past four days I have been engaged in dialogue of prevention and human rights and sexuality and gender inequity, and as such it has been easy to not be effected by the grief, bereavement, and loss that is undeniably a part involved with AIDS support and caregiving. Tonight I am feeling it. Tonight I let the tears fall because I need a way to express my anger and sorrow. Anger that this is preventable, sorrow that it continues.

Let me not fool myself on human realities.

* * *

Today, I experienced the most resonating speech of the conference thus far. The words came from the mouth of a 21 year-old Jamaican girl who spoke on behalf of the youth contingent of the conference. At an early age she attended to her father who died of AIDS-related illnesses; this motivated her to start the first youth group in Jamaica to respond to the AIDS epidemic. This is an inspiring example of transforming devastation in creation; of taking the worst that life can give a person, and turning it into something that heals.

I am humbled and motivated by individuals like this. She spoke to a crowd of 5000 scientist, community workers, and activists with the wisdom and strength of a person far beyond her years, asking for the world to listen to the specific needs of youth. She had strong leadership skills… right now the world needs strong leaders.

So tomorrow is the last day of the AIDS conference and the closing ceremonies, with summaries, key-note addresses, and presentations to be made. It is coming at an appropriate time for myself, as I am growing weary, both cognitively and emotionally. It has been an intense five days thus far, and I will need some time to go through all the information that I have received and to reflect over how I can transfer the momentum of this experience forward. My participation in this conference has been a gift from the donors and supporters of the Canadian Scholarship Programme, and I would like to honour their generousity by paying forward with refreshed motivation and new knowledge.

My gratitude to those who give.


* * *

(The following is something I wrote a couple months ago. It is a reflection on not wanting to become de-sensitized to the harsher realities in which exist in my neighborhood, my country, my world. I think much of my human process has been fighting to keep myself sensitive, on keeping myself open. In light of the vigil and to honour the caregivers who have experienced the most painful part of the pandemic, I thought that today would be an appropriate time to share it…)



un-affect-able

life in the city
can be dehumanizing
the only way I survive
is to go inside my head

I don’t want to be come un-affect-able
I don’t want to become hard

I had fantasies of grandeur
of reconnection
of liberation

(but why?)

because when I step outside it is evident
I am not hard
but bend with warmth and time

and any fantasies in my head
are actualized
only when I realize
that life also gives moments of humanity.