Celebrate Independence Day with these Sexy HIV Activists

People magazine does its 'Sexiest Man Alive Issue', well we think there's nothing sexier than the super smart, super sexy HIV activists on the following pages. These guys give us life. And hope for the future.

 

 

Activism is something that has always been an integral part of who I am. In college I had my first experiences with organizing and street protests and that was around the first Iraq war and the Rodney King verdict. I've always been a firm believer that the personal is political. Who I am as a queer man, or HIV-positive, or Chicano always informs my politics and is utilized in my activism. We all have the ability to be an activist and I am most impressed with those people who are willing to speak up and take a stand when the conditions are most severe, like a trans Latinx immigrant, or queer teenagers in Jamaica, or HIV-positive gay men in Egypt. Sometimes the greatest act of activism is to authentically and unapologetically declare who you are. At Hornet we are always working to expand and evolve our health initiatives. Our Know Your Status (KYS) feature is with the objective of helping our users have the most recent information about their HIV status so they can take can control of their health. One function of the app is to remind men to get tested every six months if HIV-negative or engage in care if HIV-positive. At the same time KYS allows individuals to affirmatively declare their HIV-status and combat stigma if HIV-positive or taking PrEP. We are currently working to expand KYS and allow more options for men to fully engage with the feature. 

Alex Garner is a the Senior Health Innovation Strategist at Hornet, the premiere gay social networking app. Prior to Hornet Alex was at NMAC where he managed a PrEP education program. He is a writer, the founding Editor of PositiveFrontiers.com, an actor, and advocate. He co-wrote and performed in The Infection Monologues, a funny and thought-provoking play about the modern HIV experience. Alex has been living with HIV for over 20 years and got his start as a queer, HIV-positive youth organizer.

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I got into HIV work because I got fired from a pizza restaurant job when I was 17. My mom said couldn’t hang around the house for the remainder of the summer and that I had to do volunteer work. I went to work on the Seattle AIDS walk and later that year began volunteering in the public policy department at the Northwest AIDS Foundation (now the Lifelong AIDS Alliance) in Seattle. When I started college at Columbia in 1997, I started volunteering as an HIV test counselor in the university health services. After I finished college I was casting around for freelance writing work and got hooked up with POZ and some other publications and started covering HIV as a journalist, which I’ve done ever since, for 15 years now.

I got involved in the first place because AIDS was still in crisis mode when I began volunteering in 1995. I was interested to see what the gay world was about, and getting involved with the HIV cause just seemed like a moral imperative. I come from a family where community engagement and volunteer work was really valued. 
I took up dancing in my mid-20s, studying jazz and theater dance and eventually ballet, which is all I study now. When I was 30 I started performing in Broadway Bares, a lavish, one-night-only benefit for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS that is a Broadway-style burlesque dance revue. The performers participate in a fundraising drive we call the Stripathon. I was surprised to start raising a ton of money and was the number three fundraiser that year. I’ve raised about $97,000 during my eight years in the show and have been in the top three for all fundraisers except for one year I was fifth. Two years ago I was the top fundraiser. 
In my work as a reporter, I strive to provide people with HIV and at risk for HIV accurate, easy to understand, up-to-date science-based information about the disease. My hope is that people will use the information to make healthier choices, to be more informed about their health and the health of people they care about, to learn about what the future of HIV looks like, and so on. Ideally, my work would help prevent HIV transmission and to reduce sickness and disease rates among people with HIV. Of course there’s no way to measure that. But those are the top goals.
We’re in a fast-changing time with regards to HIV in the gay world. PrEP in particular is revolutionizing gay sex, both by reducing people’s risk of HIV and also by reducing anxieties about disease transmission. This can lead people to use condoms less, possibly have more sexual partners and have certain kinds of sex they might have been more cautious about. Such changing behavior patterns are cause for celebration for some, anxiety for others. I think it’s vital we are honest about how PrEP affects gay sex so that we as a community are best prepared to adapt to changes in such a way that STI and HIV transmission are mitigated and people are as happy with their sex lives as possible. I’ve seen a lot of denial about PrEP’s effects on sexual behavior among a lot of the HIV world’s thought leaders, which is a shame, because people have a right to know all the nuances about such public-health interventions.

Probably my most important contribution to the cause is the overall dialogue about PrEP. I try to take something of a centrist’s point of view about this new HIV prevention intervention, looking critically and with circumspection about both the upsides of PrEP as well as possible drawbacks or shortcomings. I’m particularly proud of my recent feature for POZ highlighting how PrEP is failing to reach those who need it most, young Black men who have sex with men, especially those in the South.

Ryan is an editor at large at POZ magazine and its sister publication Hep, where he covers the science of HIV and hepatitis C. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, New York, The New York Observer, The Nation, The Atlantic, The Marshall Project, Men’s Journal, Huffington Post, Out and The Advocate.

 

You can check him out here: www.benryan.net, Facebook, and Twitter.

 

Photo by Rick Day

 

 

 

 

 

I became a HIV activist after seeing youth continually left out of the conversation when it came to HIV prevention. Instead of partnering with young people a majority of organizations were putting out programming of what they thought was best for us. So I felt a need to make our voices heard.  I've been able to help mobilize young leaders in the field to feel like they have a seat at any table regardless of where you come from. I also have been able to take the conversation around HIV prevention into other arenas of health advocacy and in 2017 I was able to reach over 4 million people through social media with messaging around HIV Social Justice.

Benjamin Di'Costa is a 26 year-old internationally recognized leader based in Chicago, IL. He has been working in the field of HIV for the past 7 years and travels around the globe speaking at conferences and colleges on topics about Social Justice, HIV, and Adoption. Since the start of his advocacy Benjamin has been awarded the 2016 30 Under 30 LGBT Leaders of Chicago, Pedro Zamora Scholarship Recipient, Honor41 Latinx Leader Awardee. Benjamin was also listed as one of the top 15 HIV Advocates to Watch in 2015, and awarded top HIV social media influencer of 2016 by Healthline.

Follow him on Twitter.

When the economy collapsed in 2008, one of my best friends was lingering in a San Francisco hospital with KS lesions and a fresh AIDS diagnosis. I was scared shitless of course — this was one of the people I loved most in the world, after all — and then then-Governor Schwarzenegger proposed balancing the California budget by all but eliminating ADAP (the AIDS Drugs Assistance Program) and I went from "scared" to "terrified." I'd never been very activisty before then — all the sign-waving and chanting seemed tedious and somehow very old-fashioned — but I helped organize some rallies around the Bay Area to save ADAP, and ultimately ADAP was saved. Before then, on some level, I think I thought that all the important fights in the war against HIV had already been fought. But I realized when it comes to civil rights and social justice you can't ever declare victory and go home. The fight against HIV, like all important fights, needs to be renewed constantly lest our enemies claw back our hard-fought gains." Being asked to join the board of SF-based Project Inform — one of the nation's oldest and most well respected HIV advocacy non-profits — was perhaps the greatest honor I've ever received, and helping to steward that organization for more than six years (I finally termed out in December of this last year) has been one of the proudest accomplishments of my life.
I have a blog and podcast devoted to celebrating some of the most interesting Queer artists, activists, leaders, and thinkers in the world today. Check it out at TheNovusHomo.com
Brenden Shucart is a writer, performer, and LGBTQ/HIV rights activist who has been living with the virus for more than a decade. A California native, Shucart relocated to Atlanta, GA six months ago to both document and partake in both that city's burgeoning Queer Renaissance and its alarming HIV crisis.

Follow Shucart on Twitter.
 

 

I became an activist because I had to. I was outraged that although I was privileged enough to learn from my doctor that I couldn’t pass on my HIV, there were millions of people living with HIV, as well as their partners, families and communities being informed that they should fear us because we’re a risk.  I could not sleep, and still can’t, thinking about the many harms and injustices people with HIV face because of that fear. That outrage and those thoughts keep me working nonstop to dismantle the fear and ensure our  HIV Undetectable = Untransmittable (U=U) campaign is heard loud and clear.   

The U=U campaign is the most important and meaningful work of my life.  In just eight months since we released our Consensus Statement U=U has reached more people and had a broader impact around the world than I could have imagined. In the earliest days of the campaign, I thought of it as a health equity and human rights issue, a quest for truth about our bodies, and an unprecedented way to dismantle HIV stigma. It’s that and more. Communicating the U=U message improves every stage of the treatment cascade. The U=U Consensus Statement has been translated to Spanish, French, and Czech for use in anti-stigma, criminalization reform, and treatment access advocacy. It’s a clear and simple message that touches on so many aspects of the field.  I love this work and could not imagine anything more fulfilling or challenging I’d want to do.  

I feel strongly there’s no morality attached to an HIV viral load or to whether or not someone is on HIV treatment.  If you have a viral load above the level that studies have shown are not transmittable (that’s above 200 copies/ml), there are HIV prevention options like condoms and/or PrEP (in some parts of the world) to have happy and fulfilling sex lives.  My colleagues and I worry especially in the gay cis male community that there will be a viral divide between undetectable and detectable, like there is now between positive and negative. I know how that feels to be rejected because of my HIV status, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.  The dating apps can be so cruel. I hope people will be kind and remember that everyone with HIV can be sexy, sexual, and safe.

Bruce Richman is the Cofounder of Prevention Access Campaign and has been living with HIV since 2003

Follow him on Twitter.

 

 

I became an activist because I couldn't find any literature on bookshelves that spoke to my truth; molested as a child and sexually assaulted as an adult. I couldn't find one single book that told my story from a place of vitality and not morbidity. So, I wrote it. 

The most important thing I've ever done was tell my story and be unapologetic in doing so. Nayyirah Waheed says, "It is being honest about my pain that makes me invincible", and truly believe that. I own my story and I own my circumstance. There is nothing more freeing that truly owning who you are. I hope that when people see me, they see possibility; that you can go through something so terrible, but still smile through the darkness. 

I want people to know that HIV is a very small part of who I am. I am so much more than my serostatus, and this year I plan to show the world that people living and loving with HIV can be sexy, have great sex, and live full lives on their OWN terms! 

Guy Anthony is a well-respected HIV/AIDS ARTivist, community leader, and author. Diagnosed with HIV as a teen, Guy has dedicated his adult life to the pursuit of neutralizing global HIV/Aids-related stigmas. He released Pos(+)tively Beautiful: Affirmations, Advocacy & Advice on World AIDS Day in 2012.  He is the Co-Founder & President of the Black, Gifted & Whole Foundation; a two-fold intermediary organization that provides scholarships to Black gay men attending Historically Black Colleges & Universities

Follow him on Twitter.

 

 

 

 

“I’ve said this before: I believe that it [HIV activism] is our responsibility, but I believe that it is our responsibility because we live on this planet. You know what I’m saying? And I just think that whatever our platform is, it’s our responsibility, and sometimes it seems like its more one group of people’s responsibility more than another because those are the ones that get the light shined on them. I’m no different [now that I’m famous]. My tweets are no different. My Instagrams are no different. The meetings that I go to are no different. The legislation that I pull for is no different, or the way that I pull for legislation, the marches that I go on, the way that I speak up is no different. It’s just that more people are listening now. That, if anything is my message, it’s that it’s not about, “Why is it the artist’s responsibility?” It’s, “Why is it the human being’s responsibility?” If we fucked up this world, we gotta clean it up. It’s a human being’s responsibility. It’s just that the artist, to me — sometimes we are told that we should shy away from what is our civic duty and what is just our rights and our duty as citizens. That somehow … we’re supposed to shut our mouths. So many times I’ve gotten … [asked], “Why don’t you shut up and stop talking about race? Don’t you have some acting to do?” First of all, that’s all you’ve got? That’s a whack-ass shit you’re gonna say. And it’s just really interesting and I’ve heard that before, but that’s just not my point of view, because I don’t approach it as an actor, I approach it as a concerned person who is affected by it because it’s happened to me, it’s happening to my sisters and my brothers and humanity. I just feel like if people are listening to you, you should have something to say.”

Jussie Smollett began his activism as a child actor and has seen his career and his sense of global citizenry expand concurrently. Around performers all his life, he treats the Hollywood machinery more like an amusement than something he’s striving to be part of. He’s known celebs since childhood (including Naomi Campbell, who he first met as an 8-year-old). Some of his siblings are still acting (including True Blood’s  Jurnee Smollett-Bell) and his mentor is Phill Wilson, CEO of Black AIDS Institute, the only national HIV think tank focused exclusively on African-Americans. Follow him on Twitter.

 

My activism was forged in an adolescence that was a Mardi Gras parade of miseries. I was a closeted gay kid in the deeply conservative City of New Orleans — famous for partying, not for enlightenment. My mother was (is) bipolar and refused to take meds. Every day was a rollercoaster ride of wondering what would set her off. More often than not she came home eager to scream at me for anything she could drum up, like washing the dishes with cold water or not making her bed.

Starting high school was terrifying and overwhelming, and academic success was the very last thing I dedicated resource to achieving. Every day I made it to school on time was a success. Most of my energy went into skirting humiliation. A football player caught wind of my effeminacy early that first semester, looked at his gargantuan friend and said loudly, “I fucking hate fags.”

We were desperately poor, and what little money I did get my hands on went to cigarettes. I borrowed a dollar every day to buy lunch, which I shared with my Goth friend, Gara, who would sometimes help to raise the money we needed. I wore the same jeans every day, and while I didn’t notice the smell, others did and they made every effort to ridicule me for it.

My first 10th grade report card was riddled with F's and D's, and my teachers' disdain for me was palpable, as they presumed I just didn’t care, or even try to succeed. I failed 10th grade, and knew that I would not get through high school if I had to take Algebra 2 or Chemistry, so I changed my high school plan from College Prep to Humanities so that I could phone it in with Business Math and Woodworking. One time a teacher asked me how things were at home. I made the mistake of confiding in her, and after calling my mother and suffering her jugular wrath that teacher never looked me in the eye again.

My “friends” in school were the punk rock kids and hippies. Their worldviews diverged wildly, but the social order of high school allied these two similar-enough groups. Their craggy clothes and patchouli cloud provided me with a social hiding place from the student council preppies and scary sports-playing meatheads. I skipped school a lot with my heroin-addicted friend Sarah to shop at Thrift City or to just hang out in the French Quarter, smoke weed and shoplift at the French Market.

I was always very good at talking so I got a job at a phone sales company that sold fire extinguishers, all-purpose cleansers and American flags – ostensibly for “Veterans of Foreign Wars” but actually for the owner’s cocaine habit. I worked at a couple of other telemarketing places until I got a real job at Taco Bell so I could help my mom pay rent and buy more cigarettes. My senior year weekends were spent working the drive-through and serving the same drunken middle-class kids that called me a stinky hippie. As I prepared to (barely) graduate, I was confused about how the whole college thing worked. Many of my classmates were studying for the SATs and worrying about what schools would accept them. Since it was standard I took the local tests, the ACTs, but went to sleep on my desk during the math portion. My mother finally noticed that I didn’t understand that college would require money and one day simply said, “you know you aren’t going to college right?”

You can’t teach someone to swim while they’re drowning.

I heard a woman say that at an HIV Prevention workers conference in ’96. It hit me square in the face and I started to cry. I always felt so much shame about my teen years. But the choices I made were largely defined by the choices I had. I chose to survive the best way I could, that is, the way that was best for me. I was drowning, and I had only enough energy to stay afloat. It made me realize that there was a staggering number of needs to be met before I could even imagine succeeding in the way high school glibly encourages. Those canned high school platitudes only alienated me further; You Can Do Anything with Math! Really? Will math give me a dollar for lunch?

I wish I had been one of those kids who found solace in math, but I think those folks are few and far between. With the exception of a few savants most people need to feel safe, fed, loved and supported to designate bandwidth for scholastics. Otherwise, young people have to allocate resources to survival, struggling for dignity and managing a cacophony of thoughts and feelings. Basic needs must be met in order to move beyond basic functioning. Far too many low income and struggling kids don’t see their way above the bottom two rungs of Maslow’s pyramid (physiological needs and safety). To even want to move closer to self-actualization is a privilege many young people don’t enjoy.

My adolescent years were characterized by depression, self-loathing and poverty. My ability to focus on schoolwork or any other adult-preparatory activities was minimal at best. Most of my energy went into surviving my home life until I could turn 18 so I could move out and get a job that would allow me to afford my own apartment. Pursuits such as college, travel, a relationship and fulfillment were things I simply didn’t consider to be pertinent. And the shame I experienced and internalized about this fact only lessened my inclination to succeed.

As a gay man that grew up in the eighties, the fear of AIDS was another obstacle to growth as I went through puberty, making sex yet another impracticable pursuit. I thought I gave myself HIV from masturbating in my very early teens and for a year was convinced I was dying. When I learned more about how the disease worked, I started paying attention to prevention marketing, But the messages I received about HIV were confusing and terrifying. “Use a condom every time”; ”Protect Yourself and Others”; “AIDS: Get the Facts People are Dying to Know.” Not only did no one ever explain to me how to use a condom, but the idea of making psychic space for managing yet another terrifying aspect of adolescence was just insulting. I couldn’t think about avoiding HIV and STDs because I was too busy surviving; too busy drowning to learn how to safely plunge into the world of sexuality.

I was lucky enough to get out of New Orleans and made my way by bussing and finally waiting tables. My fear of HIV persisted, and after experiencing my first hookup in a parking lot I was once again convinced I was dying. A year went by and I finally got an HIV test. The two-week waiting period was akin to torture. When I was told I was negative I decided to learn more about how to protect myself by going to a place where I knew I would be safe as a gay man — Planned Parenthood. While a seemingly odd fit, this relationship with an agency dedicated to helping marginalized people began a phase of recovery for which I am still so eternally grateful. I began doing volunteer work for Planned Parenthood’s Education Department educating young people through theater, a passion I had never before had an opportunity to exercise. That work landed me a job homeless and runaway kids how to clean needles and use condoms. I started doing HIV prevention work for a living about a year later at AIDS Services of Austin as the Gay Community Educator. I was only 22, with no college degree and they were paying me a salary I did not feel I deserved — $19 thousand a year. But I was desperate to succeed and to find dignity in the work that had always vexed and panicked me. And I did indeed succeed, but I only succeeded because I was given an opportunity to do so. For the first time my youth and sexuality worked in my favor. Given how many young gay men were contracting the virus, the hiring committee felt I possessed valuable insight into a community being decimated by AIDS. And so they gave me a chance. And it is only for this reason that today I have a college degree, run a successful public health consultancy, produce social-marketing films, and do stand up comedy in New York City. I was given an opportunity to succeed, not just warned that I needed to.

I went on to do HIV/STI and unintended pregnancy prevention for many years. I railed against messaging that reminded me so much of those high school clichés; half baked attempts to layer unrealistic expectations over people’s unmet needs. I knew that for people to really consider their health and well-being they needed several other foundational pieces first. Homophobia was more than just an ignominy that young people endured; it was also a force that occluded sexual minorities’ ability to want to protect themselves. Asking someone to consider their future was a lofty goal for someone who wasn’t certain they would have one. Prevention messaging needed to inspire people to believe they could survive the epidemic, not just constantly remind them that they could die.

My work exposed me to many group-level interventions designed to change attitudes and behaviors in adolescents. Many of them touted the same banalities as my high school and those early prevention strategies, encouraging young people to “take responsibility” and “be proud”, as if words could alchemically alter the outlook of a young person struggling to survive.

The kids I work with have it far worse than I did. Many of them experience abuse, neglect, racism, fear of the police, addiction, sexual assault and more by the time they enter high school. Without proper acknowledgment of these realities educators and prevention specialists are relegated to the same compartment as teachers: people who hurl directives and fear-based admonitions in order to motivate “healthy” behavior.

In 2010 I decided to created my own group-level behavior-change program for “at risk” teens called MyMediaLife. The program takes adolescents through the process of producing a digital film that speaks to issues most present in their lives. I have since implemented it in Planned Parenthood education departments around the country, transforming their old outreach mechanisms into new and social media strategies that leverage digital content. I came full circle.

When creating MyMediaLife I thought about what helped me not only to survive but triumph – opportunities. The strengths-based program creates multiple opportunities for teens to succeed. They are entrusted with the conceptualization, preparation and production of a short film that speaks to their specific struggles. As such, there are many roles a teen can carry out such as stylist, casting director, writer, set designer, music specialist, etc. This ensures everyone in the program is given an opportunity to do something that contributes to the process. We share the budget with the youth, give them the parameters they need to work within, and guide them as they figure out how to work together to produce the film. By the end of the process the youth have had multiple opportunities to showcase their talents, receive positive reinforcement, and take pride and ownership of their contributions. The experience, not a bunch of words, stimulates inspiration in the youth and builds their sense of self-efficacy.

The teens I’ve worked with around the country have produced campaigns that address mental health, relationship abuse, digital disasters, racism, homophobia, and a host of public health related issues such as teen pregnancy and STI/HIV prevention. They learn how to use emotions that will produce the desired result in viewers. As a natural antidote to shame, humor is often extremely effective at allowing young people to more fully consider an issue without the gravity of fear or judgment to weigh them down. Accordingly, many of the films are funny examinations of teens’ foibles as told by other teens, making such a depiction more palatable and respectful.

In the process of creating a film about a particular behavior they would like to see their peers adopt or modify, they adopt or modify their own. The process of unpacking an issue and developing a media message to help fix it results in greater behavior change simply because it was their ideas and insights that produced it. People are more inclined to follow a behavioral prescription when they develop it on their own.

The campaigns are beautifully produced, compelling stories that take the form of music videos, narratives, parodies and mini-documentaries. They inspire and highlight young people’s successes, but they also depict the reality of young people’s experiences. This more than anything engages youth who are struggling to cope by making viewers feel less alone. But they also demonstrate in a nonjudgmental way that obstacles can be overcome, honor the challenges that many marginalized people struggle to traverse and offer solutions that are achievable and genuine. The youth-produced campaigns motivate young people to consider their options, and their futures, because they feel understood, which in turn allows them to re-route energy away from surviving and towards making constructive change.

I work with teens so that they might have an opportunity to shine and experience pride. I work with teens because I want them to have a better experience than I did. I work with teens because they are at a pivotal fork in the road of life and a single opportunity can make an enormous difference. But most of all I work with teens because it has given me power over my own miserable adolescence by celebrating the accomplishments of those teens that were just like me.

Check out Shults' company: Connected Health Solutions, 

Follow him on Twitter.

 

 

I'm an artist living working and creating in Harlem. I didn't intend to become an activist I just wanted to journal my own experiences living with HIV. It then snowballed from there into something bigger than myself. I'm extremely proud of MESS and humbled for anyone to consider me an activist. Hopefully it starts a conversation among gay men and  straight allies and most of all I hope some kid newly diagnosed and searching for answers finds the show and sees that life doesn't end at HIV. 

Paul Victor is the creator of the web series Mess. Follow him on Twitter.
 

Although it seems odd now, I never intended to become an HIV-activist. When I wrote my first op-ed for The Advocate, “Confessions of an HIV-Positive 20 something,” I did so to reclaim my story that was being telephoned around my social circle. After the piece was published, however, I received responses from so many people who had similar stories but had yet to take back their life from the stigma they experienced. From then on, every piece after my first was written to encourage others to open up about their diagnosis and tear down the wall between statuses.

In the past five years since my first op-ed was published, I’ve had the privilege to work with some of the biggest HIV non-profits in the world. My biggest accomplishment, however, was to motivate a handful of younger people to speak up and become activists in their own community. They help me carry on my simply message that you can do more than just live with HIV, you can live fabulously.

Tyler Purry is the Editor-at-Large for Plus. Follow him on Twitter.

 

I became an activist shortly after being diagnosed as HIV-positive. I was extremely depressed and isolated, I felt unable to connect with a tangible person that mirrored me. I made a promise with the Universe, that if I was blessed the opportunity to be have a platform, I'd utilize it ethically to become the tangible role model I'd longed for. So I did just that. It's the best gift of love — to myself and fellow world neighbors — I've been lucky enough to share.

After publicly discussing my status on Viceland's Balls Deep on HBO — the first time I'd discussed my status on television — I received an outpouring of love via emails, Facebook messenger and in person. It was touching to read letters from parents thanking me for conversing on the topic. The most humbling experience was when a 17-year-old from the Boston suburbs recognized me at dinner, embraced me in a huge hug and thanked me for, "giving [him] the courage to stay on this earth and tell his parents". It's moments like these that make life's journey beautiful.

Michael is participating for the fourth consecutive year in the New York City AIDS Walk (held in Central Park, on May 21st, 2017). He is wicked pumped to again be joining Team Candy Wrappers — headed by fellow HIV activist and legendary drag performer, Jesse Pasackow and Candy Samples, respectively. To support Michael please visit here.

Zakh Michael was born and raised in East Hampton and Essex, Connecticut. Michael resides in Manhattan and is in the beginning steps of pursuing his doctorate in psychology. He also juggles roles as a marketing consultant, bartender in Hell's Kitchen, nightlife performing, and a face of HIV Equal. Follow him on Facebook.

 

 

"I came out publicly about my status with the hope that by sharing my story I could help others see that they're not alone, and that a life with HIV can be a healthy, happy and fulfilling one. We've come so very far in terms of medicine and health care, but we have so much further to go; stigma and the shame attached to being HIV-positive still impedes our community, and I hope that by sharing my story we can move past these antiquated ideas of HIV/AIDS."

David Russell is the manager of global pop star Sia. Follow him on Twitter

I fell into this. It was never my intention to get into HIV Advocacy. I'm actually not a huge fan of science. When misinformation and stigma started effecting my own personal life, I started doing my research and quickly learned that this epidemic was beyond charts, graphs, and statistics. As a Black gay man, I took it upon myself to repackage the conversation to make the discussion more organic, relatable, and candid. My transparency has helps so many that would have never been interested. If you're willing to have the conversation and ask questions about sex and all that came with it, by all means let's have it. Health is more important than being uncomfortable with reality. 

Jayce Baron is a published author, social entrepreneur, advocate against sexual assault, and Executive Director of Kiss & Tell Networks. With the motto "People Are My Passion", he strives to bridge the gap between advocacy and entertainment. Follow him on Twitter.

My activism sort of fell into my lap much like my diagnosis did. I wasn't aspiring to be an HIV activist just like HIV wasn't part of my "five-year plan.” However I woke up in a tailspin one morning, a Black queer body living with HIV, feeling suffocated and needing to create a space enough to breathe. So I challenged myself to Speak Out! 

I took to YouTube and part of my journey with HIV has been to convey the nuances of this experience to demonstrate for posterity a freedom that otherwise young queer and poz folks may never a chance to see. Our narrative is such that something is physically, socially and politically trying to kill us every day and despite those attempts we are still here!! And I am proud to be here in all of my multi-faceted and multi-politicized identities. There is something affirming and resilient about being a Black gay man in America living and loving out loud with HIV. So I've felt it my duty to share this experience so that the history books will get it right—So when the historians do their research they will know that Black gay men do exists, and that doesn't make us vectors or predators or disposable but vibrant, impassioned individuals thriving in fear based society with very little support. Showing up against oppression is how I've been able to affect change. Being visible has been the single most important thing I've done. I became an activist simply because I was aspiring to LIVE; aspiring to disassemble stigma and self-hate; aspiring to equip vulnerable and marginalized communities, that I am a member of, with language that avows our edification and self worth. My life has been my activism as well as my art. I am honored to be doing this work.

Ken Williams is a speaker, storyteller, HIV activist, media presence, and the creative force behind the award winning, queer-conscious, video blog, Ken Like Barbie. Diagnosed with HIV in 2010, Ken has contributed much of his online presence to issues affecting PLHIV, with a special attention to communities of color. 

Ken has collaborated on a national level creating video content and cultivating relationships with prominent media and AIDS Service Organizations such as the Black AIDS Institute, the CDC, Greater Than AIDS and AIDS.gov, where he contributes on a quarterly basis as a guest blogger for their Black Voices project. Ken’s work, both visual and written, tackles universal issues & themes through the lens of gay, black metaphors. He is proudly both. Ken’s storytelling approach has not only been celebrated by the LGBT community but his video work and messaging is honored globally. Follow him on Twitter.

 

Recognizing myself as an activist is still a lot to gulp. ACT UP folks are real activists. I am more of a social media advocate and someone that just won’t shut up about HIV, that won’t stop encouraging those living with HIV, oh, and I like to make cool videos about it. But I literally just started a blog one day and later that same day, posted the link on my Facebook profile. Ha! That day, my blog hit Wordpress’s fastest growing blog list. It has been kind of a wild ride. 

The work that I’m the most proud of so far is publishing the first of three different HIV guides for our community: LGBT PrEP Guide, Bisexual HIV Guide, and the Transgender HIV Guide.  All three of these are pretty well respected in academic journal circles — even if no one else paid attention. I worked with a journalist I hired, David Heitz, and I’m pretty proud of what we accomplished and that we were first to publish these types of guides. 

My advocacy’s main goal is get people living with HIV to feel great about themselves and allowing them to recognize that their circumstances don’t define them as people — how they choose to keep living does. Sometimes it’s interesting and sometimes it’s foolish. But at the end of the day, I realize that this stuff really is life or death. I look up to long term survivors and allies so much and I recognize that my life is easier because of their tough journey.

Omg! I forgot. I once applied to the Trump Administration. They have a web site. It asked for my resume. My answer "I'm boss biatches." It must not of sent because they never called. I'll just drink my tea over here... but *cough cough * they should of called back.

Josh Robbins, the only person to ever have released a recorded-live video on YouTube actually learning his HIV diagnosis, is a 2017 GLAAD Award nominated blogger of imstilljosh.com, host of the digital HIV buzz worthy news series #HIVscoop (social media campaign of the year ADAP Awards),  a talent and brand management agency owner in Nashville, and "one of a growing legion of bloggers who are breathing life into HIV activism,” says about.com. In addition, Robbins has created two iOS apps, an iMessage sticker pack, and is always in a hat. 

P.S. He once asked for a seat at The White House planning table for federal HIV response — and was invited on the spot. Follow him on Twitter.

 

 

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