A teenager’s perspective on HIV
By Amirah Dunwell
Amirah Dunwell is a 15-year-old high school student living and studying in North London. She plans to study drama, dance, and media in her final years at school. She is also hoping to gain a place at the prestigious Central School of Speech and Drama to study for a degree.
WHEN Clint Walters first walked into our house, I didn’t know anything about HIV, other than that it was a sexually transmitted disease (STD). All it was to me was three letters. Clint was a friend of my mum, (who she met clubbing) and he would often pop in for a coffee, a cigarette, and a chat about the day. One day, when he was staying the night, I opened the fridge to find some bottles of pills that I hadn’t seen before. “What is all this stuff for?” I asked mum. “They’re Clint’s. He’s got HIV,” she said, very matter-of-fact, like she was talking about making a cup of tea. I didn’t understand what it meant, so asked her to explain. Mum told me a short version of Clint’s life story-that he had caught HIV from his second boyfriend when he was 17, and had battled the disease ever since, including trying to set up his own charity as well as endless charity work for others. There had been times when he had been very sick, but the medication had helped him recover and now he was leading a normal life.
But what was HIV, and what does it do? I wanted to know. Mum explained that it is an infection that affects your immune system, and that if it’s not treated, it can lead to other infections and a person dying. “Oh my God, is Clint going to die?” I asked. But mum said that modern medication means that the virus can be kept under control, and Clint’s immune cell count (or CD4 cell count) had recovered such that he was in a very healthy state. Apart from taking the medication, his life was as normal as hers or mine.
Not long after this bombshell, mum and I invited Clint to my 14th birthday party. About 60 friends came, and pretty much all of them commented on Clint’s bubbly personality, smile, and twinkling eyes. How would they feel if they knew, I wondered, that he had this serious illness?
Any person my age (AGE 15!), by now, will have had some kind of sex education, just like I have. Like most girls, the subject is first discussed in primary school (where teachers explained what sex was), and then at 11 we are taught the science behind it all. But this education focuses not on sexually transmitted diseases, but on stopping getting pregnant, puberty, and other growing pains. I consider my mum to be very streetwise, and I thought, if it’s taken me this long to find out the facts around a condition as serious as HIV, then what chance would those around me have?
I didn’t have to wait long to find out what people’s perceptions of HIV were. One day a teacher brought up the subject of HIV in a lesson, and asked us, what do we know and feel about the disease. The class was made up of 35 girls, and I was shocked by some of the ignorant answers they came up with. It was clear straight away I was the only person who had met someone with HIV. Some of things shouted out were “everyone will hate you if you catch HIV”, “it’s a gay disease”, and “you die if you catch it.” Someone else shouted if you use a condom, you can stop yourself catching it-at least they got that part right. I sat there thinking that no-one could ever have spoken to my friends or other classmates about HIV. I was worried that we were all going to be adults soon, and these were the opinions we would be taking with us.
Soon, my newfound knowledge about the condition would be put to the test, as mum came home from work to say Clint had caught swine flu (H1N1 influenza). It was at the peak of the swine flu epidemic. I had swine flu myself, mum had had it, and my classmates were dropping like flies with the disease, like they were in all schools. What was it that was so worrying? I asked mum. She explained that swine flu was hitting people with underlying conditions like HIV harder, and so that meant Clint was at risk of developing complications. At least Clint wasn’t worried about it, but nor did he worry about anything really. In the end, Clint did catch swine flu, but it was quite mild and all he needed was a few days in bed.
Back at school, I told the girls about what was happening. Firstly that Clint had HIV. “Oh my God are you lying?” some said. “Is he going to die?” was another common response, along with “Are we ever going to see him again?”. Then I explained what mum had explained to me, that he was quite healthy, but that swine flu could cause complications if it got him. My friends admitted they were as ignorant as I had been-they too knew it was an STD, but nothing else. “But he looks so normal,” one friend said. “I would never have guessed he had HIV,” said another. I agreed with them—Clint was just as normal as anyone. I thought to myself that if every student could meet someone like Clint to have HIV explained to them, there would probably never be a bad reaction to such news again.
Now I wonder if there is a way that families could be educated better about not just HIV, but other sexually transmitted diseases. Meeting Clint made me realise these things were not just in textbooks, they were real. My family has no problem discussing serious things like this, but I know others do. Some parents just can’t deal with this kind of thing. Could they be sent stuff through the post or something, or would they just throw it in the bin rather than discussing it with their children? And some families have religious beliefs that make things even more difficult. But unless a way is found, class after class will go through every school without a clue about the facts behind HIV.
Meeting Clint has made me think about how teenagers my age, and younger or older, could be better educated about HIV. The things we are taught at age 11 need to be broader, and repeated yearly so that we don’t ever forget, because these are vital things that we shouldn’t forget. How about a health class every week or two weeks in school, where these things can be discussed openly without any fear of strict or difficult parents interrupting?
And it can’t just be about lessons in school, or ‘the talk’ from our parents. There are so many other places and events where these things could be brought up in a non-threatening way. I attended a music festival in London earlier this year in which goodies were being given out for free in return for accepting an info pack and doing a urine Chlamydia test. Ideas like that can encourage teenagers to find out things, without having to feel embarrassed about asking someone in authority. Some kind of workshop, to which pupils could travel to for the day, and find out everything they need and want to know about sex, STDs, and other life issues could be another way to go. Get young people excited and looking forward to finding out about these things, instead of an embarrassing traditional lesson.
Many schools, both my own and those of friends, have a school nurse, but unless they are sick people don’t want to go to her. If it was someone specifically meant for sexual health information and advice, maybe people would use that service more? Someone like Clint would have been ideal, due to his young age and outgoing personality. Young people will connect with people they see as similar to them. And no single plan is going to suit everyone; I think a variety of things are needed to cater for the range of personalities that are in every group of teenagers.
And for some people, maybe it’s not another person they need to explain things. I use Facebook often. Some people use it even more and are holed up in their rooms for hours at a time! So what’s wrong with using Facebook to educate people? Quizzes about different STDs, or life situations, so people can find out where they stand. And if they need to find out more, a contact number or website where they can go to get it. Again, this could help educate teenagers who are too scared or embarrassed to ask their parents, teachers, or other adults for advice.
And television has its part to play. It’s nothing new to play out a serious illness in a television character, but most teen dramas are reluctant to take on such a big fish as HIV. They go for the safe stereotypes like anorexia, depression, self-harm, suicide. One well-portrayed character with HIV could reduce stigma for a generation. But it would have to be very carefully done, with every aspect explored, and shots of the person getting on with life positively, just like Clint did.
I had barely adjusted to my rapid education on HIV when some terrible news arrived. Clint had passed away, aged just 30, and Mum and I were distraught. In a few short months he had taught me so much, and my life has been so much richer having met him. A few days later, I went to the park, a newspaper containing Clint’s obituary was inside. Some girlfriends who knew about Clint’s HIV wanted to read it, but so did some boys who had met him but didn’t know his status. Their reaction surprised me and gave me hope for the future. Instead of the prejudiced comments I expected to hear, they came out with “wow, he had a tough life battling with HIV”, and other respectful, comforting words.
A few months later, I’m thinking what can I do to make sure all the work that Clint did to reduce HIV stigma was not in vain? I want to play my part in preventing prejudice. Mum and Dad recently splashed out on a video camera to help me with my drama course. My schoolmates and I have already used it to make a mini-drama about schizophrenia, and Mum and I agree that a fitting tribute to Clint would be a film on HIV. I’d want to show to the whole school first, maybe get them to take a HIV knowledge quiz before and after. Then maybe try to get it onto a bigger stage. Whatever happens, Clint will never be forgotten.