Friday, December 23, 2011

Quick Post - Tara's Story "My First Love, or, I Know it Was the Blood"

Have the holidays arrived already?

This time of year means family to me.   While I don't go in for the gifts and whatnot, seeing "my people" always means the world to me.  Recently, I performed a story, "My First Love, or I Know It Was the Blood" as part of the FIAT Alternate Routes campaign, and a version of it is airing through the end of the month. 

It's a story about the love of music...and family.  Please enjoy, and have a safe and happy season.






Thursday, December 1, 2011

World AIDS Day: Access To Testing In Atlanta for Youth & Women - An Experiment (Part 1)


A couple of weeks back, in anticipation of World AIDS Day, I decided to spend the day trying to gauging access to a safe, anonymous HIV test for someone like me. 
Several friends and relatives of mine have died since the start of the epidemic.  The first, when I was a girl,  was a church friend of the family – a young black woman in her thirties and the mother of two beautiful daughters, about 12 and 16 years old.  She was a hemophiliac at the onset of the crisis.
I’d never seen anyone die so quickly.
As an educator and community activist, I know about the challenges women and youth face when seeking access to information and services for reproductive and general health.   But I hadn’t done the research in Atlanta.  I knew I wouldn’t be prepared to help kids I worked with here in Atlanta if I didn’t take actions.
So I sat down, as I had been meaning to for months, and put my phone and laptop to work to find access to an HIV test for an average woman, just like me, living in a bustling southern metropolis.
What I found confirmed what I’ve been hearing from advocates and everyday sisters since my arrival here.  Especially if you don’t have the privilege of wealth, Georgia (Atlanta included) is one of the worst places in the country to be a woman. 
I didn’t expect it to be particularly easy for me to locate free or low-cost anonymous testing. 
Let’s look at the stats:
  • I’m an African American woman.

  • I live in metropolitan Atlanta, Georgia.

  • I’m over 24 years of age.

  • I’m don’t engage in “high risk behaviors”, apparently.
But there are a number of factors that should aid my access to HIV screenings, right?  After all, the Centers for Disease Control are based here in Atlanta.  There are several world class institutions of learning in the area.  The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered community in Atlanta is large and extremely active, and many groups from this community have worked to keep HIV/AIDS in the forefront.
I decided to call and Google locations and see what I could find. 
After tooling around on the Internet, I found a number of locations in the Atlanta area that provide free, anonymous testing to men in the area.  Even if I weren’t a young man  or man of color who has sex with men, being male would have given access to free, rapid testing at several places throughout the city.  Federal and community grant programs established in the wake of the HIV/AIDS crisis have provided funds for men termed “high-risk”  (those who have sex with men, and those who utilize intravenous drugs, for example) to access convenient testing.
Yet, the last decade has brought with it increasing new infections among various populations, and women have been prominent among them.  In fact, about 1 and 4 new HIVinfections are now women.  Of women infected, 2 of every 3 of them are African American women.
So access to testing for women, especially in a diverse city like Atlanta, should be easy to access...right?
Wrong.
After finding 4 locations that would gladly provide me an HIV test if I were male (be I gay/straight/bi-, black/white/latino, drug-free or using), I set out to find access for women.  After learning that many of the centers also provided free testing for prevalent STDs as well, I made sure to ask for these services as I called around.
  • I started with the local office of a federally funded (sometimes helpful, often harmful) women’s health project aimed at providing reproductive health and family planning services for younger women.  While this project provides abortions in some parts of the country, this location in Atlanta does not.  I was startled when a man answered.  He informed me that there was testing.  But anonymity wasn’t possible.  I’d have to be established as a patient.  I thought the price was prohibitive as well.  I want to point out that the man who answered was pleasant enough.  But he was a man (at a women’s health facility focused on a younger population), his voice was deep and a bit gruff.  As a young woman or student, I’d have been out of luck.  Not only would I not be able to pay for services, but also, I’d likely not have gotten very far with this organization.  This older male gatekeeper is likely enough to make many teens or young women hang up or run in the other direction.
  • Next, I called one of the largest support structures and testing centers designed for those living with AIDS in Atlanta.  The organization has done amazing work to raise the visibility of HIV/AIDS in the Atlanta area.  They provide free OraQuick testing and testing for partners who want to protect each other.   They also provide STD testing.  Awesome – if you’re a man.  Women aren’t eligible for any these services.  Cross that of the list.
  • I checked out a local reproductive health organization that focuses on youth and has programming for LGBTQ young people.  While their website pointed me to a resource guide for reproductive health, I was disappointed to find that I couldn’t access or download it online.  Instead, I would have needed to share my name and mailing address with the program and wait for them to mail me the package.  I applaud this organization for all of the wonderful work they are doing to support youth and queer communities.  But as a young person or a woman in certain situations, sharing my information or risking the discovery of a mailed package would not be particularly scrupulous.  Finally, I was seeking was an HIV test in particular, and they didn’t not have the information I needed - or at least, it wasn’t particular accessible or timely. 
  • I then contacted a local Feminist Health Center and Medical practice.   Surely, they would be able to help me out.  Yes, they did provide HIV testing.  Free?  No.  And the cost could be prohibitive if I were a teen, student, or employed woman.  Anonymous?  No.  Data would be collected and held in a file.  Could I come in that day?  No, I’d need to make an appointment.  
Yeah - this was going to be a long day.