Putting Families in the
Forefront of the Fight Against HIV / AIDS
by Talli Nauman
Photos by Miguel Ángel Torres (unless otherwise noted)
It's Saturday afternoon and the door is open for a weekly session of the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation. A dozen youths sit on couches circled in the lobby of a two-story, green tile house that is headquarters for the Mexican Foundation for the Fight against AIDS (Fundación Mexicana para la Lucha Contra el SIDA).
Photo by Gabriel Matadama
Participants in the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation
The young men at the session, some of whom are HIV-positive, gingerly introduce themselves.
"My name is Luís, and I think this is the last time that I will come here," says one.
"Why?" asks facilitator Adrián Manzanares, the psychologist leading the workshop.
"Because I'm confused and I'm afraid to let my family know [that I'm gay], " says Luís.
This workshop supports at-risk youth like Luís, and is part of an effort to reach their
relatives, some of whom are caretakers for family members who suffer from Human Immune-Deficiency Virus (HIV) or Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS). The foundation's strategy is to encourage family members to
take a hand in HIV-AIDS treatment and support at home, and to become leaders in their own communities, supporting AIDS prevention efforts and fighting prejudice against at-risk youth with different sexual orientation.
Manzanares asks the rest of the group, "If you were in Luís' situation, what would you do?"
"Talk with your parents, or leave written information under their bedroom door," says one participant.
"I don't recommend that you leave the workshop," says another. "It's a choice between leaving and feeling alone, or being in a group that can give you support."
Luís grabs a handful of popcorn from a bag being passed around. "I have to think about it more," he replies.
Rosario García, another psychologist helping facilitate the session, intercedes. "If you have the courage to tell them, you will feel better and your parents will too, because it's hard for them too," she says.
Creating an Alternate Family Atmosphere
Family support is critical to at-risk youth in Mexico because they are victims of discrimination that Mexican government institutions are unprepared to confront. It is even more critical for HIV-AIDS patients because Mexican medical institutions are trying to assist an increasing number of AIDS patients with an ever-shrinking budget, and the National Health System is unable to provide adequate care for all infected individuals.
Participants in the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation
Many AIDS patients, particularly the poor, are being cared for and dying at home where they have only their family members for support. But family members often are more terrified than helpful because of the stigma attached to AIDS, and a lack of medical training.
Manzanares notes that in the United States, where more statistics are available than in Mexico, two out of three adolescent suicides are caused by sexual orientation problems. After working more than seven years as a volunteer at the Funda, he noticed that many of the youths he counseled practiced sex without protection. The group workshop is a place for them to share experiences and compare notes that lead not just to greater self-acceptance but also to safer sex, he said.
This workshop for adolescents with different sexual orientation creates an alternate family atmosphere in which participants can ease tensions over their sexual identity and fears about HIV. It provides a supportive setting to help them overcome their shame and reticence about revealing these problems to relatives, which is the first step in enlisting their support.
Participants in the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation
Introductions continue around the circle. As the conversation warms, a youth puts his arm around the shoulders of another at his side. One youth jokingly refers to his male friend as his co-madre, a Spanish term used to refer to a close woman friend.
When the group learns that a couple of its members are choreographing a dance routine (above), the participants move outside for a demonstration on the tree-shaded patio. And the workshop continues.
"They like the house because it is a family-like environment," says Manzanares, dressed for the session in a sleeveless blue muscle-shirt and jeans. They affectionately call the house "the Funda," an abbreviation of the foundation's Spanish name.
To reinforce the family atmosphere, Manzanares organizes events for workshop members such as a pajama party, a Christmas Eve supper, and a camping trip in the mountains. In March, he invited author Rina Shinfer to the Funda to speak about her book Mom, Dad, I'm Gay, which attracted 120 participants.
Photo by Gabriel Matadama
Author Rina Shinfer (in red) talks to participants in the Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation. Adrián Manzanares is seated at right.
Manzanares, who launched the workshop one year ago, has established two groups of young men, with an average of nearly 30 participants in each, and is now offering a Support Workshop for Adolescent Women with Different Sexual Orientation. He plans to follow up with a Support Workshop for Parents of Children with Different Sexual Orientation, to reduce discrimination. He hopes it will help overcome the closed-mindedness of many Mexican families and increase relatives' participation in the Funda's efforts.
"We want to begin opening a space so that when a father says he has a problem, he sees that another parent also has the same problem, and he is experiencing the same thing," Manzanares said. "So, he doesn't feel guilty he begins to accept and support. And he starts to fight to change this homophobic world into a world with more tolerance where his son, or another's, can develop freely, without prejudice, and can be a productive person adjusted with his or her sexual orientation."
Manazanares plans to set up a job bank or other benefits that will draw family members into participating in foundation projects. Meanwhile he's writing a grant proposal to funding the project's expansion.
Recruiting Community Leadership from the Family
These workshops are the latest in a line of activities that the foundation has developed to build community leadership. The idea of making community leaders out of family members of HIV-infected or at-risk persons was a natural outgrowth of work the Funda began in 1987, when it was trying to fill gaps in information, medical care and psychological support for people affected by HIV.
From the beginning, the Funda has worked to help relatives overcome their aversions to accepting and helping their loved ones. This not only improves the victims' quality of life, but also engages them in spreading the knowledge and attitudes they acquire in the process, so that others like them will do the same.
Mauricio Ramos founded the Funda, a Mexico City-based non-profit organization, and is its president. "The reason I work on AIDS has to do with my lifestyle," says Ramos, who sports a ponytail, goatee, and guayabera a traditional Mexican dress-shirt. "I'm gay, so that makes a difference in the way I am committed to the work."
Mauricio Ramos
Ramos emerged from college with a degree in psychology, an interest that helped shaped his career. In 1986, when knowledge of the AIDS virus was just beginning to filter into Mexico, the government formed the National AIDS Prevention and Control Council (Consejo Nacional de Prevención y Control del SIDA) better known as Conasida and Ramos decided to volunteer at one of its clinics.
The government clinic provided HIV detection and counseling. But as Ramos conducted orientation courses there, he noticed there was a need to do more to "socialize people so that they would begin to see that they're not the only ones who are alone experiencing the problem," he said.
So Ramos instituted the country's first mutual self-help group at the clinic. It was such a popular concept that five more formed, and when Ramos left to create the Funda in 1987, the participants followed him.
That's when their family members began to attend group meetings. "This was a very big responsibility for me," Ramos said.
The group meetings were unprecedented forums in which people who were diagnosed with HIV gleaned perspectives from Ramos, and shared their own, in an effort to confront the sense of impotency and despair associated with the diagnosis. Ramos changed the venue from a clinic to the park in which the Funda's first meetings took place to provide a setting more conducive to family members' attendance.
Photo by Gabriel Matadama
Camping trip: participants in the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation pitch a tent
But many family members were ignorant about the disease, fearing they would be infected if they helped their loved ones. Others were apathetic: they had a hard time overcoming a sense of hopelessness in the face of an impending death in the family, or were ashamed by the stigma attached to the disease.
Ramos decided the Funda must provide attention to family members, as well as to the carriers of HIV-AIDS. He set up a project where psychologists counsel victims' relatives to abate their prejudices and misconceptions, and to teach family members how to extend emotional support to an infected person.
The project also includes home visits from nurses, who show family members how to take a patient's vital signs; administer medications; apply injections; treat wounds, hemorrhages and ulcers; clean and move a patient, and provide for proper nutrition. The Funda's hospice provides services that offer spiritual guidance and solace for those confronting the death of a loved one.
Its thanatology program provides specialists' counseling on death and dying to the terminally ill and their families. Lawyers provide legal assistance.
The Funda staff and volunteers support relatives by accompanying them on visits to overcrowded and ill-equipped hospitals, where they set examples of how to insist on timely and dignified treatment. The Funda even intervenes with financial aid for families that can't afford food, medicine, housing or transportation.
Ramos remembers one of the Funda's first clients, a woman in her late teens whose father was gay and sick in the hospital with AIDS. She attended one of the Funda's orientation meetings about 10 years ago.
"She was living in anguish and with severe desperation when it came to the nurses' shift changes, because she didn't know whether the nurses were going to want to attend to her father," Ramos recalls. "The doctors were causing a lot of problems. She began to ask how to handle the nurses to assure they would attend the man. Little by little, she started integrating into the foundation, and she stayed working with it for a long time."
The Funda has reaches up to 70 families per year with home training and motivation visits. It reaches some 2,000 people annually with individual and group psychological therapy. Some 150 people per year receive counseling on death and dying. Its talks, conferences, training sessions, expositions and media outreach efforts number in the hundreds annually, affecting an estimated 7,000 to 10,000 people annually.
None of these benefits was available in Mexico City when the Funda began its work. Today, a handful of other non-governmental groups have entered an arena that was established by the project. What sets the Funda apart is that it also serves as a platform for family members to join the battle against the AIDS virus and associated discrimination in the community, not just at home.
When Ramos started the Funda, he established its credibility by recruiting respected doctors. This led to community confidence that helped produce donations of everything from the Funda's building to furniture to coffins to mirrors.
Ramos said he especially appreciates the mirrors, and has built up a collection of small ones with elaborate
frames. "Some say it's because gays are narcissistic," he jokes. But he adds, Funda uses the metaphor of the mirror to inspire family members to get involved. To diminish a relatives' hesitancy, a Funda counselor admonishes "that the best way to see [the HIV carrier] is as if you are looking in a mirror see the person as someone like ourselves, who is infected."
But mirrors don't pay the bills. Grants, such as one Ramos received from the Levi Strauss and Co. Foundation in 1992 and another from Ashoka in 1993, have helped Funda expand. Collaborations with government institutes have been another major contributor.
Yet funding is inadequate for the Funda's needs. Manzanares underwrites all the costs of his workshops with money he earns as a schoolteacher. Ramos gave up his paycheck from the foundation a year and a half ago. The
eight other employees' wages were reduced in March. One of the employees supports herself and children with income from a corner store she opened in order stay at the Funda.
Thanks to some 60 volunteers like Manzanares, the foundation's work remains steady, but is limited. "We'll get a call saying that somebody needs a psychologist and we can't provide one," Manzanares said. "We have people but we're not working full time because there's no economic underpinning here," he says.
Despite the struggle for resources, the Funda is making an impact and has a vision to expand its influence. Through the Funda, Ramos has achieved one of the significant goals for family leadership building that he set ten years ago: establishing a master's program in family psychology, with emphasis on different sexual orientation and HIV-AIDS, in Mexico's university system.
The Funda also has inspired a half-dozen other non-profit groups to form in different Mexican states, such as Chiapas, Oaxaca and the state of Mexico. Manzanares is planning to replicate the youth workshops in these and other locales. He wants to train his workshop participants so that they can start sessions on their own, as a way to broaden community leadership. He envisions creation of regional and national encounters between the groups, as a way to develop a sense of community.
Meanwhile, Ramos has taken a giant step forward toward his long-time dream of introducing the Funda's approach to the national health system. He has accepted an offer to be specific campaigns coordinator for the Mexico City HIV-AIDS program, a federally-funded city agency that is part of Conasida. In preparation, Ramos is gradually shifting responsibility for managing the Funda to the rest of his staff, encouraging them to strengthen their decision-making skills and boost cooperation levels.
In the early 1990s, "being at the government level seemed like a lot," he says. "Now I'm there."
An Open Book
Ramos says his new post is an open book that gives him a chance to bring approaches pioneered at the Funda to the public sector. "There are no policies regarding HIV-AIDS at the government level right now," he said. "There are no campaigns. We are making strategies," he says. "The idea is to incorporate work with the family. One of the tasks we have is to create a social development element."
"At present, we obtain medication for the patient who lives with HIV-AIDS, when he doesn't have any. But what do we gain, if he doesn't have good nutrition, a decent place to stay or an inadequate family environment? So we have to work on that, not just on obtaining medications."
One example of the problems he faces: some public health system ambulance drivers illegally refuse to provide AIDS patients with free transportation from their homes to the city clinic where Ramos works. Ramos said he holds little hope that by patients' relatives' advocacy for an end to discrimination and the political inertia underlying budget allocations will have a major impact anytime in the near future.
Participants in the Support Workshop for Adolescents with Different Sexual Orientation
"It sounds bad," he admits, "but it seems very difficult to me. At the city clinic, we tell families to complain [about adverse funding situations]. The problem is that the families don't complain." The dominant culture still sees AIDS patients as lost causes, and is less likely to question the authority of medical personnel or advocate for patients' rights in contrast to other diseases such as cancer, where relatives are more likely to defend patients' rights, he said.
Because new federal and local Mexico City administrations just took office earlier this year, Ramos said it's too early to tell how far he will be able to go. But, he says, he has a very competent team and he is optimistic.
Ramos notes that the new federal Health secretary and the new city Health secretary are the first such officials in Mexican history to state that HIV-AIDS is a public health problem, not just a problem of the gay community. This situation gives hope that there will be more societal participation in the AIDS pandemic, according to prize-winning Mexican social critic Carlos Monsiváis. He has called on the federal government to commit to a "rational and congruent AIDS policy."
Toward that end, Ramos is beginning his efforts by focusing on bringing HIV prevention and AIDS treatment to existing community programs in the Coyoacán city council district.
Filling Empty Niches
Ramos said he sees himself perhaps five years down the road having cemented a firm and effective relationship with his administration colleagues that results in better-designed programs and adequate resources to implement them.
Improving the attitude and knowledge of Competent Conasida staff and officials can improve conditions for patients and their loved ones, but still the Funda needs to continue its community outreach and policy direction initiatives, filling niches that are not yet addressed by academic and government institutions, Ramos said.
Without family members' education and active involvement at the grassroots level as promoted by Funda, the government can only go so far to bring about more humane and just treatment for members of the community who live with HIV and discrimination, he concludes.
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