"Stay in the race - that's where it's at"

I would like to start outright and just say that this one might make some of you mad. I would also like to invite you to keep reading anyway and hear me out on some things.

I am not sure I ever gave a real clear overview of the program that I am working with and the work that they do. Back in the mid-1980s, a member of St. John #5 (the church I am working with, which is lead by Pastor Bruce) died from AIDS. After her death, Bruce found out that she was ashamed to tell him that she had AIDS and was afraid that, if he knew, she would be kicked out of the church, which was heartbreaking for such a loving person to hear. Troubled by this, he decided it was time to take a public stand - both to begin an active fight against the spread of HIV/AIDS in the community, and to let people know that if they did have it, they would not be condemned by his church. Shortly after beginning their fight against HIV/AIDS, St. John's was kicked out of the Baptist denomination because of the distribution of condoms as part of its work. Pastor Bruce did and still does feel strong enough about what they are doing to carry on anyway. Now, the HIV/AIDS program conducts free and confidential HIV tests, distributes contraceptives and educational materials in the community, and does presentations at health fairs, churches, schools and other organizations. Each day, the program workers, in teams of two, go to various neighborhoods on a rotating schedule to distribute condoms to individuals (which in Louisiana have to be 18).

So, yesterday afternoon, I went out with two of the outreach workers and passed out condoms for the afternoon. (Again, this is the part where some of you are invited to swallow whatever you're thinking, and bear with me) Now, I was well aware that this was a part of the program and what I would do while I was here. And the issue a lot of people take with this is that it seems to almost promote people having a lot of sex with a lot of partners. Right? right. That's why the church was kicked out of their denomination for it. So, while the hooking up is not something that I am game for supporting, the following are reasons why I'd be glad to pass out condoms forever..

-Remember the post on Monday? Remember the pain that 30 year old woman was in? Remember how she was dying a slow, painful, and terrible death? Remember how her kids are going to be stuck without a mother or a positive family member to raise them? Okay, well I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

-There are a lot of teenage girls with babies here. While this is not necessarily unique to this area, it is particularly difficult for the girls here. In Elmira/Horseheads, if a girl has a baby, BOCES has a classroom she can go to for school to finish high school, where there is a daycare (free) right next door. There are no programs like that here. Girls are ashamed and their families are equally ashamed. They don't graduate, can't get jobs, and are hard pressed to find a decent man to be with them once they have a baby, which, is a "forever" thing.

The truth, whether we like it or not, is that people, very young, and very old, get involved with each other and terrible diseases get passed around like candy at a parade. I have sort of come the the conclusion that it is really about choosing the lesser of two evils: you hold on to your morality/faith/whatever and hope for abstinence, or you do your best to help people stay healthy, alive, and without pregnancies until they find their way.

All of that being said, I want to share with you what that experience was like. Another time that was really not at all what I thought it'd be, but was good. Also, although I make a very honest attempt to be entirely authentic on this thing, in order to really share what is happening, I am censoring some stuff today because it is also important to me to keep this relatively G-rated, and some things are just not worth repeating. Anyway...

The neighborhood we went to was about 15 miles from the church; it included both apartment buildings and houses. After we parked, we just walked around the neighborhood to places where people were sitting out on porches or hanging out in front yards. Because the outreach happens on a rotating location schedule, most of the people had gotten condoms before and knew who we were; we all wear khaki pants and red polos. We got to the first group - 5 or 6 men, beer and bourbon in hand, as they chatted on the corner. They knew what we were there for, put out both hands, called their friends to come get some, and enjoyed joking with us as we talked with them for a while. Most of the interactions were the same way - you are doing a service to these people: hello, AIDS prevention and FREE STUFF. We walked up to a few groups who shouted "hey! it's the condom ladies." While I never thought I'd be referred to as a "condom lady," it was good to know that the people knew why we were there, appreciated the service, and accepted us into their community. Without retelling each interaction, these are a few highlights and my thoughts on the experience.

First, we all know, and I have discussed before, that I am a very white girl working in an almost all-black area. Yesterday was no different, except that some of the residents were Hispanic, but you get the point. And while I am often super-conscious of this fact while I am here, it is hardly mentioned, except by 5 year old kids ("everybody here white"), and isn't a big deal. But yesterday, we walked up to another group of men, of a variety of ages, and an older guy asked if this was our job. I explained to him that it was a job for the other two but I was just a volunteer for the week and told him I am in school in New York. He asked me about that, and if I had had a po-boy yet (Google it). Then he asked me how I liked New Orleans. I said I did, explained that I had been a few times before, and he asked if I was scared of being in the 'hood. I said well, not really anymore. He says: "what were you scared of? all the black people? getting shot?" Yep, take that one in. Not only did he call me out on my whiteness, but called racism what it is. I told him I was getting used to it and he said, "good, we ain't gonna hurt you or kidnap you; we're just people" Incredible. Another conversation that was, for me, a "God appointment." I always knew I was aware of the white/black thing and how difficult it can be for me sometimes to be the minority by such a huge margin, but no one else has ever mentioned it here. It actually happened two other times yesterday, one of which was minor in reference to the music I was listening to (Hey there Delilah), and one in a line not worth repeating. However, any of these things weren't made with a "what is your white self doing here?" tone, but in a "your white self is welcome here" tone, and for those of you who have really hung in there with me during this and the last experience in New Orleans, you understand the difference and what that means to me. Again, I don't want to make light of things and pretend that "there's not racism in the world" or lame things like that. I am just saying that my faith in progress toward unity and away from hate and fear, is increasing.

Related to that, particularly the idea of fear, it was odd, but good, yesterday that I didn't feel unsafe at all. While I don't know that I would ever feel comfortable wandering around the projects in Elmira, I felt totally safe in the neighborhood yesterday. I think sometimes the world cons us into being afraid of people and things that really, we don't need to fear. While I wouldn't do anything stupid, like walk around some of these areas at night by myself, I was really amazed at how okay I was with all of it. Again, you're in a red-shirt gaggle of people, and the neighborhood folks know what you are there for - a service, and that helps, but it was incredibly liberating.

The other odd thing to deal with was that, according to Louisiana law, we could only distribute to people who were 18 years old. You don't check IDs, but all the school kids wear uniforms so it's pretty obvious. However, girls younger than 18 get pregnant and boys younger than 18 know all about hooking up. A lot of women that we passed them out to said "I have 4 boys, bring it on." And again, your heart breaks, but it's a choice between two tough things. I mean, in an ideal world, there would be more than just distribution, and we, the church/program, would have some programs in place to help kids get to a place where they weren't doing that stuff, but right now, it isn't there.

Those are most of my general thoughts, and the interactions which are appropriate to pass on to others in a mass-media sort of way. I hope it gives you something to think about, and even if you are really opposed to that activity, I hope you were able to hear me out on my support of it.

The title today actually came from "Hour of Power" last night, which is a service held at the church every Wednesday for people just to share what God is doing in their lives. I shared that, 5 years ago, when I saw the city underwater during a chapel service at Roberts, I was moved to tears and knew for the first time that God was asking me to go and do something really specific. Back then, I never would have imagined that 5 years later, I would find myself here for the 4th time, living with New Orleans residents, hearing their stories, loving them, and passing out condoms on their street corners. Later during the service, one of the guys who was talking said something about how life isn't about winning, it's just about staying in the race. I continue to be in awe of Pastor Bruce and his willingness to stay in a race that seems to be an unending, losing battle sometimes. I think that it's a good encouragement for all of us. Even when the program money is VERY limited, diseases keep spreading, drugs keep getting shot, this guy doesn't quit. He has a vision of better things for people and isn't quitting on them, and I hope I don't either.

I think that is about all for now. Again, thank you for working through another long post, and for being willing to be challenged by some of these things.