I spent the last full week of July volunteering at the 19th International AIDS Conference in Washington DC. It was beautiful, wonderful, amazing, and eye-opening in ways I cannot even begin to express. There were over 21,000 people there from over 150 countries, each representing their interests in the fight against HIV/AIDS, and all of the aspects that come with that fight: from social/political issues like equality among the sexes, legalization of sex work, protecting non-heterosexual and non-cis-gendered folks, and working with, and sometimes around, religion, to scientific issues like informed consent in trials, testing more HIV drugs on women, whether circumcision truly is the answer, and what it would take for the world to rally around a cure. It gave me a lot to think about.
One of the biggest things I have mused over since the conference ended is the role of lifestyle in the quality of care. As a doula, I have witnessed first-hand the differences in care somebody on Medicaid receives as opposed to the quality of care somebody on private insurance receives. As somebody who does HIV outreach, I have heard stories of people refused medication because the pharmacists don't "agree with the lifestyle choice." As someone who follows feminist blogs closely, I have read a few stories of people refused care because they are transgendered. As someone who aspires to be a doctor, I find all of these situations unacceptable.
All of this thought has led me to think: What are some of the reasons I may be refused care? I carry white privilege with me wherever I go, as I could probably not get any more "white," with my light-colored hair and blue eyes. I'm college-educated, so I carry "proper" grammar and vocabulary on my side. I am able-bodied. I am young. The only two things I can think of that may impact my care in a bad way are the fact that I am a woman and the fact that I am not heterosexual.
Women, in all seriousness, have been given the short of the stick when it comes to medicine, up until almost recently, although some may argue that this continues through practices today. I don't want to elaborate much on this, because there is already a lot of literature about this, much better written and explained than I am capable of. If you want to do some research, a great place to start is with how the word "hysteria" came to be.
I am not heterosexual. Granted, I can pass as straight, but I truly am not. I am bisexual, for those who are only familiar with the terms "straight, gay, and bi," but I really consider myself pansexual. Ten points to Ravenclaw if you know what that means! All joking aside though, in some countries, just being yourself has dire consequences. Consider what it may be like to be a gay man in a country know for it's machismo or in a country where it is considered illegal to be gay, and your neighbors believe you better off dead than a lesbian. Consider what it may be like to know that if you "come out" to your family or closest friend, you may risk stoning or dishonor.
I spoke to a few people who were manning gay rights booths in the "open to the public" portion of the Conference. It seemed as though they were happy to be able to be out and proud about it, and to offer a support system to others that wish to be out as well, but they also spoke about how it could be somewhat dangerous to be out, which is why the support systems existed in the first place.
In some countries, being out can be a blast, and a great experiment in what you could expect upon returning home. In other countries, being out could mean repeated rapes (meant to "turn you straight") or death upon discovery. Even in the United States, people are beaten or shot for not being straight. And this is not just in our distant Matthew Shepard history. Just last month, two young lesbians were shot and left for dead.
The Peace Corps even has a special panel that you can watch online or go to live on what the experience is like being LGBTQI abroad. It's difficult to go from relative safety in expressing who you are to basically walking back into the closet for a long period time, but sometimes, to live your dreams, it has to be done. Just as all of the soldiers who hid during the time of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," and long before then. Just ask the women and men in the USA who lost their jobs in the early 1900s because they didn't quite fit the right mold.
It's hard to be strong when your strength may mean your death.
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