Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one
— John Lennon
I remember clearly that December day back in 1980 when John Lennon was killed outside his Manhattan apartment. I was a D.J. at the time. That evening, I opened the club with Lennon’s song, Imagine. As I gazed at the record slowly spinning around on the turntable, I wondered silently to myself how something so tragic and senseless could be allowed to happen.
Now over 25 years later, tragedy and senseless acts of violence seem to be a regular, daily occurrence. We have become numb to the numbers, deaf to the death and desperation that are sweeping a continent and a planet. “Be a virus, see the world,” is HIV’s new slogan.
So last month I packed my bags and went to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Not to escape and get away from it all, although the thought was tempting. Instead, I went there to cover the 3rd International AIDS Society Conference on HIV Treatment and Pathogenesis.
I was truly honored to meet so many dedicated researchers, activists and workers who are on the front-lines of this epidemic, working tirelessly, day in and day out, who strongly believe in what they are doing, and are making a difference. Their intelligence and insight constantly blows me away, while their compassion and humor simultaneously move me to laughter and tears.
The entire experience over this last year, since Charles Clifton, the former editor of this publication, passed away has opened my eyes to a brave, new world of which I never aspired to be a part, yet leaves me humble and grateful, and yes—even hopeful.
Years ago, when I first started working with this magazine, I hate to admit I had some doubts as to whether readers were even that interested in HIV/AIDS outside of the U.S. It seemed to me at the time so isolated and distant, some nebulous virus that even had a different name—HIV-2—with routes of transmission and cultural issues that seemed so disparate and distinct from those in the U.S., that it was at times difficult for me to even make the connection.
Besides, I had enough problems of my own to worry about—thrush, kidney stones, diarrhea, shingles, falling T-cells, increasing viral load, eventually lipodystrophy. My health care costs were going through the roof.
But over time I began to realize how extremely lucky I am to live in a country where I can even afford health insurance, let alone receive the care, treatment and support necessary to keep this virus under control.
So I urge each and every one of you to count your blessings, take the next step, and to broaden your HIV horizons. Whether it be through volunteering, or joining a clinical study, or donating to an AIDS charity, or becoming involved with the AIDS Treatment Activist’s Coalition (www.atac-usa.org), or the Campaign to end AIDS in Washington, DC in October (www.C2EA.org), or taking part in a support group—or any of the myriad other ways in which you can begin to effect change—do not hesitate, time’s a-wasting.
The epidemic here in the U.S. is inevitably, inextricably linked to the millions of AIDS orphans in Africa. We all share a common denominator. We all suffer, and we all seek healing.
The doctors, activists, social workers, scientists, pharmaceutical representatives, orphans, mothers, positives, negatives, blacks, whites—we are all connected. And if we speak up now, our collective voice together will resonate so loudly, so clearly, that we cannot and will not be ignored. We must take the lead, and show the world that we value all life and all cultures. And the only way to show our fellow man and woman is to lead by example.
The World Health Organization’s 3x5 initiative, to get 3 million HIV-infected people worldwide on treatment by 2005, was an incredibly lofty goal. And while that goal will not quite be reached, we have begun to see incredible change occurring, with one million people now on treatment. We must continue to advocate for universal access to treatment, care and prevention. Generic antiretroviral drugs must be manufactured and made affordable so that optimal treatment regimens are there for all who need them.
So begin to imagine a world in which we all have access to the most effective HIV drugs, medical care, counseling, testing and prevention, education, food, shelter and jobs. Imagine a world where babies have their parents into adulthood, and no longer weep. A world filled with hope and promise. And then imagine yourself helping to make this into a reality. You can do it, you must—there is no better legacy you could leave behind.
Take care of yourself, and each other,
Jeff Berry
Editor
publications@tpan.com
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