I want to start off with a short story of the power of words
and tie it into HIV.

It began for me many years ago when I worked as a counselor
with homeless women and their children. They lived in a program where they
received temporary to permanent housing until they got on their feet. Although I
had contact with the women I mostly worked with the kids.

Just to give you a picture of the people I worked with, these
were women who had chemical issues, went though abusive relationships and
because of their circumstances found themselves on the street with their
kids.

You can't believe the story the kids had as they watched
their mother being beaten by husband/boyfriends/dealers. You saw in their eyes
that they were no longer children but that they were young adults with adult
eyes.

As a counselor I also ran an educational component called
Kids Café, where the kids learned to fix meals, have responsibilities setting up
in the dining room and finally eating at the table together, a bonding
experience that even us grown-ups have lost the ability to do.

Coming from a rough background these kids were a handful.
Cursing, disrespecting each others and sometimes adults and basically having no
manners. Yet I seemed to have a good rapport with them as they probably saw a
man who despite how they acted, still showed love. Who didn't raise his fist or
voice in anger. I had a good rapport with everyone except for this young girl.
No one could stand her. Even I had to hide my discontent as she did whatever she
wanted whenever she wanted and she was only 9.

She was also always the loudest of the bunch. Her younger
brothers were angels compared to her. She was raised in the roughest part of
Chicago and you could tell. And when she put her hands on her hips you knew she
was about to give several pieces of her mind.

So after thinking of many strategies of getting along with
her I decided to do something different. I decided that with the Kids Café I
would put her in a leadership role. Basically on that day whenever a child
listened to the adults she would give them some candy. I was first concerned she
was going to just keep the candy herself, but having responsibility seemed to
make her shine.

At the end of the day when all the kids were preparing to go
home, I went to her and told her my exact words, "you're a good person." She
surprised me when she gave me a hug. It was the last thing I expected. And she
could have kept the rest of the candy for herself but she made sure I got it
back.

I eventfully left the job and went to another role as an
in-home therapist. In the facility was also an in-house therapeutic department
for kids with behavioral issues. It had been five years since I worked at the
homeless program. I say this because as I was walking down the halls of where I
was currently working I heard a girl's voice, "I remember you." The next thing
you know I'm getting this huge hug around my waist. I then see it's the young
girl who I worked with at the Kids Café. Her next words blew me away. She said,
"You told me I was a good person" and she said it as if it was something that
she held on to, like a worn teddy bear.

I wondered how could she remember something that I threw out
so casual but then I recognized that she was probably raised in an environment
where she was never showered with kindness. Without knowing it I had given her a
gift and here she was five years later sharing that gift back with me in the
form of a hug.

I used to think words were meaningless but she showed the
value that words can have.

"You told me I was a good person."

And in the five years I saw her she was probably never told
that again. So she held on to the words I gave her as if it was gold.

What does this have to do with HIV? Actually nothing. Living
with it and hearing about it, and seeing it in ads you sometimes just want to
forget about HIV and simply remember the other parts of your life.

So today I'm putting my HIV in the backseat and letting the
other parts of my life shine through.

And like my young friend remembering that I myself am a good
person.