HIV work is about fulfilling the mission, not your ego
As I shut my laptop a few Fridays ago, I let out a big sigh. I’d just finished reading an email from an individual whose focus was clearly self-interest, despite writing to me — a person living with HIV and the senior advisor on community engagement at the International Association of Providers of AIDS Care.
A million thoughts ran through my mind. Most of them revolved around how exhausted I was from receiving emails like this, as well as doubts concerning how much longer I could stand working in a field that was supposedly about improving the quality of life of people living with HIV and “ending the epidemic” but that increasingly feels overrun by individuals who are preoccupied with delivering vapid speeches, claiming credit for work completed by others and posing for selfies.
“How did we lose our way?” I asked myself. “Have we forgotten the point? Can we find our way back to the missions we’ve reduced to empty buzzwords? Is this who we are now?”
It’s no secret to anyone in our field that times are tough. Many organizations are struggling to secure funding, as primary funders of our work are taking their foot off the gas even as we approach the Sustainable Development Goals of 2030.
Governments have conflated our field with culture wars, therefore making it ripe for defunding. And the silos we have often spoken against have become cavernous trenches, dividing us further from each other and from what we claim to be our purpose.
Was it always this way? No.
It didn’t feel this way when I started working in this field seven years ago. I’d just been diagnosed the year before. During those first 12 months, I struggled like many other people living with HIV do after suddenly finding themselves in an unfamiliar health care environment: making endless appointments, enduring blood draws and learning to navigate disclosure and stigma outside the HIV world as well as within.
One day, the nurse practitioner who served as my first HIV provider asked how I was handling everything and then noted that despite the personal challenges, I seemed to keep a positive outlook. Being raised by my mother and Dolly Parton, I have always tried to find the silver lining. That silver lining came in the form of a loving thought: “Something good will come of this.”
That thought reminded me of the incredible providers, nurses and social workers I had met over the course of that year — wonderful human beings who served as points of light during a dark time and who were now inspiring me to work alongside them in support of people living with HIV.
I started as a cover for the front desk of a local AIDS service organization. Providing a friendly face and being of service to those coming in felt good. Soon, one of the ASO’s case managers told me I would make a good peer educator and there was an opening at one of the ASOs down the street. I applied and got the job.
I loved it. I felt excited to jump out of bed every morning, to provide education and support to newly-diagnosed individuals, as well as those who struggled with their treatment.
Now, I’m not so sure.
On a weekly basis, I interact with individuals and organizations that obsess over whose name goes first or who gets credit for what. While I certainly understand the challenges that accompany needing to be recognized for delivering work, I cannot wrap my head around losing focus on the actual work of serving people living with and affected by HIV.
It seems that the higher up some individuals get into this field, the further they get from our community, and the greater the divide from our mission.
These days, I am still excited about serving our people, though I am not always excited by interacting with individuals who get in the way of the work. To keep myself centered, as soon as I wake up in the morning, I recite my daily meditation: “I ask the universe to use me as a force for good in our divided and troubled world.”
I think that intention should be the bare minimum for all of us.
If we cannot approach this work with the intent to serve humanity and create a better world for everyone, then we have no business shouting slogans, standing on stages or leading marches. And we cannot serve the mission if we refuse to set our egos aside. At some point, each of us must choose between the two: ego or service.
If you feel like you’re struggling with either, I suggest you take a step back; remember the empathy, integrity, compassion, humility and purpose that inspired you to join this field. And recommit yourself to making this world a better place for our community.
If you can’t, it’s time to get out of the way and make the space for someone else who can serve the mission. Otherwise, we may lose everything we’ve fought for.
Kalvin Pugh is an award-winning HIV and human rights advocate who has dedicated his life to improving the lives of people living with HIV. Today, Kalvin serves as an independent consultant, writer and public speaker. This column is a project of TheBody, Plus, Positively Aware, POZ and Q Syndicate, the LGBTQ+ wire service.