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<text id=93HT0783>
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<title>
1987: The Changing Face Of AIDS
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1987 Highlights
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
August 17, 1987
MEDICINE
The Changing Face of AIDS
</hdr>
<body>
<p>More and more victims are black or Hispanic
</p>
<p> Late morning. Harlem Hospital. Doris White (not her real
name), 32, pulls her thin robe across her narrow, bony chest and
lights a cigarette. Her dark arms are riddled with small, round
scars, the hieroglyphs of chronic heroin abuse. She is here for
the seventh time in two years. In 1982 she brought her
four-year-old son Rashan to this same hospital. The boy was
listless, losing weight; he had white spots on his lips and
tongue. The boy's father, a drug addict, had recently come out
of prison and was not at all well himself.
</p>
<p> For the next few years, Rashan fought a battle he did not
understand. "Mostly, my mother took care of him," says Doris,
crossing her skinny legs. "It was hard. I'd have to get high
before I could go see him." Rashan died a year and a half ago
of AIDS, about the same time Doris was diagnosed as having the
disease and two months after the boy's father succumbed to the
illness, known in the ghetto as "the AIDS." She squeezes her
brimming eyes shut. "I will feel the guilt the rest of my
life," she says. A month ago Doris' five-year-old daughter
Jamille received the deadly diagnosis. So far, only her 15-
year-old daughter has been spared. Doris says the disease has
changed her; she no longer shares needles. "It seems like every
day someone else I got high with is sick," she says. But she
still shoots up. "If I can get high," she explains, "I can push
things to the back of my mind."
</p>
<p> The face of AIDS in America is changing; it is getting younger,
darker, more feminine. Stories like Doris White's are becoming
common in inner-city ghettos: every day someone else who got
high is getting sick. So are their lovers, and so are their
children. Although nearly two-thirds of AIDS victims so far have
been homosexual men, the rate of new infection among gays has
declined. At the same time, the rate among blacks and Hispanics,
particularly those who are intravenous drug users, is rising
alarmingly. Medical experts warn that unless urgent actions are
taken, AIDS may become a predominantly minority disease. That
prospect is frightening not only to health officials but also
to civil rights advocates, who fear a backlash of racism.
</p>
<p> This past weekend the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta
held its first national conference on AIDS and minorities.
According to CDC statistics, although blacks and Hispanics
constitute only 12% and 6% of the U.S. population, respectively,
they currently account for a disproportionate 24% and 14% of the
more than 39,200 reported AIDS cases in the U.S. For women with
AIDS, the numbers are even more striking: some 52% of them are
black and 20% Hispanic. Nearly 80% of all children with AIDS
are either black or Hispanic.
</p>
<p> In absolute numbers the problem of AIDS among minorities hardly
compares with other enduring inner-city health-care problems
such as hypertension, drug abuse and teenage pregnancy. But the
future may tell a different tale. Testing of military-service
applicants for exposure to the AIDS virus has revealed an
incidence that is four times greater for blacks than for whites.
If present trends continue, blacks and Hispanics might
constitute as much as 40% of the predicted 54,000 AIDS deaths
in 1991. Warns Dr. Wayne Greaves, chief of infectious diseases
at Howard University Hospital: "Unless we can interrupt this
pattern of transmission, this disease could potentially affect
the size of the black population."
</p>
<p> While the largest percentage of minority AIDS victims have been
homosexuals or bisexuals (40% for blacks, 49% for Hispanics),
the growing infection rate among IV drug abusers threatens to
alter those proportions. The National Institute on Drug Abuse
(NIDA) estimates that 70% of the nation's 1.28 million IV
addicts are black or Hispanic, and according to the CDC, about
a third of AIDS cases among those minorities have been linked
to drug abuse, in contrast to just 5% of cases among whites.
The virus spreads easily in urban shooting galleries, where a
contaminated needle may be passed among a dozen addicts. Some
70% of New York City's quarter-million IV addicts may already
be infected. The skyrocketing incidence among IV drug abusers
worries experts because of the difficulties of bringing
information to this notoriously recalcitrant community. "Their
lives are relatively disorganized," observes Surgeon General C.
Everett Koop, "and they are not the best recipients of any
educational programs." While the nation's homosexual
communities, particularly in New York and San Francisco, have
effectively mobilized to confront AIDS by lobbying for federal
funds, creating group homes for AIDS suffers and recruiting
volunteers to staff hot lines, there is almost no support for
AIDS suffers who are addicts. A 34-year-old black homosexual
in Manhattan says he was able to "plug into" gay support groups
"for emotional and physical help." But in Harlem, he laments,
afflicted addicts "just wait for death, which often comes on
the street because so many of them are homeless."
</p>
<p> Organizations that traditionally offer aid and support to
minorities, such as civil rights groups and the church, have
been sluggish in acknowledging the epidemic. For them AIDS
presents a disturbing dilemma: the disease threatens to
increase racial discrimination and further distance blacks and
Hispanics from full participation in mainstream society. "We
don't want to get to the point," says Dr. Reed Tuckson, public
health commissioner of Washington, "where people say to any
black, `You can't come into my restaurant, and you damned sure
can't come into my swimming pool.'"
</p>
<p> It was not until January of this year that the National Urban
League addressed the problem in a report on AIDS and American
blacks by Dr. Beny J. Primm, executive director of Brooklyn's
Addiction Research and Treatment Corp. Primm is furious about
the foot dragging and denial among blacks. "There is a
complacency," he charges, "and perhaps a fear of being called
a racist if they point the finger at their own. Better to be
called racist now then conspiratorially genocidal five years
from now."
</p>
<p> For the church, so often a source of strength and shelter in
the black and Hispanic communities, AIDS is a prickly subject.
Both the black churches and the Roman Catholic Church have
traditionally been bastions of conservative values on sexual and
social matters, and the idea of preaching the use of condoms and
clean needles is difficult for many clergymen. In the Hispanic
community, moreover, where the cult of machismo still reigns,
men regard even the discussion of condoms as a diminishment of
manhood.
</p>
<p> But some groups are gearing up for action. The Southern
Christian Leadership Conference has held two national seminars
on AIDS in the black community. Last week 40 clergy, under the
auspices of the Congress of National Black Churches, met with
federal public health officials to discuss what they could do
to stem the spread of the disease. This fall both the
Congressional Black Caucus and the N.A.A.C.P. will explore the
issue at conferences.
</p>
<p> Various efforts around the country are targeted on IV drug
abusers, though most of them are small and poorly funded. In
San Francisco, Vicente ("Chente") Matus, an ex-addict who now
works for Mid-city Consortium to Combat AIDS, ambles along the
rough-and-tumble streets of the city's Mission District, his
white plastic bag bursting with 1-oz. bottles of household
bleach and packets of condoms. His message to IV addicts is
blunt and simple: Don't share needles, but if you have to,
clean the "works" twice with bleach, a procedure that reduces
the risk of exposure to the virus. While the rate of new
infection among the city's mostly white homosexual community
has slowed to about 4%, the rate among San Francisco's estimated
18,000 IV addicts is 15%, up 50% since 1985.
</p>
<p> In New York City, with the nation's largest IV addict
population, Stephan Sorrell, a streetwise physician at St.
Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital Center, calls for more radical
interventions. "If we want to stem the tide of this epidemic,"
he says, "we have to open more methadone-treatment slots. I'd
suggest that we go to Needle Park and give away methadone and
syringes rather than letting the dealers sell heroin."
Currently, there are only 30,000 methadone slots for the city's
200,000 or more IV addicts. Last week New York Governor Mario
Cuomo announced that the state would be expanding the number of
openings by 5,000.
</p>
<p> Federal efforts to reach drug abusers are just beginning. This
October NIDA will embark on a three-year pilot program in 15
cities aimed at reaching IV drug users, their sex partners and
prostitutes. They will be urged to enter methadone-treatment
programs, use condoms and get AIDS-virus testing and counseling.
Some black leaders complain, however, that too much of the
federal AIDS-education programs and funds is aimed at white,
middle-class students, rather than at the young, inner-city IV
addicts and their sexual partners, who are much more at risk.
For the moment the Reagan Administration resists the notion
that it should appropriate funds for programs designed
specifically for minorities. "We are strongly opposed to
earmarking funds in that way," says White House Domestic Policy
Adviser Gary Bauer.
</p>
<p> Among those working hardest to contain the spread of AIDS in
the urban ghettos, there is often a sense of despair. Drug
addicts are tough subject for reform. "We need to stop the
recruitment of young people into IV drug use in the first
place," says Don Des Jarlais, of the New York State division of
substance abuse services. Working with youths who are sniffing
but not yet injecting heroin, Des Jarlais says, "We get them
thinking about AIDS and what to do to prevent themselves from
becoming exposed."
</p>
<p> For Doris White the message is far too late, but she prays that
her 15-year-old daughter will learn from her family's tragedy.
"I try to point out everything about drugs as clearly and
truthfully as I can," she says. "She understands. She says,
`Mom, why you mess with drugs? You got to be strong. You can't
be weak.'"
</p>
<p>-- By Richard Stengel. Reported by Mary Cronin/New York and
Steven Holmes/Washington</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>