My First Impressions

             Growing up in an African-American Baptist church, where many of the people are from down south and still maintain a southern culture and mentality, has been a central point in my childhood. I was exposed to the epidemic of AIDS through the many leaders in my church, Second Baptist Church, in Rahway, NJ. Some leaders are advocates in providing people, especially African-Americans, with information and prevention about this crisis, including counseling, drug rehab, and medial assistant.

In my church, the Sunday before the week of National AIDS Day, we acknowledge this epidemic by inviting a person, living with the HIV/AIDS infection to speak about their crisis. Most of the times, these people are an African-American women, from the Redeeming Care Center in Plainfield, NJ, commonly known for high poverty and infectious rates in our county. Sister Sarah Benjamin is the director of this facility/group and is also one of the active ministers in our church. She takes the time to talk with these people and encourage them to speak about their stories to others, but most importantly, to the African-American community. In church though, they come tell us a summation of their story of how they contracted and cope with the disease in their everyday life. At times, it is usually difficult for them to elaborate the details of their misfortune and of what exactly happened. It is difficult because they are facing a congregation church, full of saints that they usually do not know. Different parts of their story can get a little embarrassing and tough for them to get through, but they manage because the people in the congregation always try to make them feel very comfortable and relaxed by shouting out comments like “its okay,” or “it’s alright.”

Coincidentally, the Youth Usher Board of my church has always ushered on these Sundays every year since this custom practiced was initiated by Minister Benjamin. As a young usher, we stand at the doors of the church and hand out red pins to everyone that comes in to worship that Sunday morning, in support of our battle against HIV/AIDS. Many of the times people wear the pins on that particular Sunday, but then do not know the motive behind the pins, or what day it actually is.

            I remember one Sunday during service, a woman came forward and began talking about her experience of being an AIDS patient and how she contracted the disease. It was a bit embarrassing for her to explain to the church what really happened and what sexual act she actually performed. My brothers, sisters, and I, sat near the back of the church. We began snickering, and laughing at the woman who stood on the pulpit, confessing to the sin she had committed. At that age, we did not know what AIDS actually was or how people were truly affected. The only thing we did know about the infection was that my father had a friend, who lived in Florida, but died of this disease at the early appearance of HIV/AIDS. Until this day, he never really talks about that friend or his death.

As we laughed and snickered, the elder church members scolded and stared at us. The woman continued her story. There was one particular thing she said that caught our attention. Just like a cliché, the woman stated that she never thought this would ever happen to her, nor did she think her sex partners had the disease. She also said that AIDS was like cancer, "it only happens to white people.” It was something that was always seen or talked about on the news, but she never thought the epidemic would be found prevalent in her community. The woman closed by advocating that we, as African-Americans, should always use protection and keeps in mind the dangers of HIV/AIDS.

 

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