By:
George M. Johnson
September 27th, 2016
________________________________________________________________________________
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
There is no statement truer than that for those of us who work in the
field of sexual healthcare. Let me explain a little bit further. As a
former tester and counselor, I’ve done hundreds of risk assessments,
conference seminars and sessions on the reduction of risk factors when
engaging in sex and the need for “safer sex” practices. Many of us who
work in this field lead very similar lives around the narrative when
discussing treatment, prevention, supportive services and the overall
care of those in our community who want to stay protected from HIV, STIs
and social determinants of health. However, as experts in the field, we
also have lives of our own and can’t be held to societal standards
around our sex lives or how we should engage in them.
Although many of us preach safer sex practices, it doesn’t necessarily mean that we are going to engage in those same practices ourselves. “Why?” you may ask. Because we are human. Because we are imperfect. Because we are people who enjoy the pleasures of being sexual beings without having to feel constrained to practices that diminish our sexual identity, fluidity and ability to navigate sex practices across the spectrum. It’s probably a little bit of all three for each person who deals with this along with a plethora of reasons as to why and why not. Many of the same reasons that our clients give as to why they don’t want to use condoms, or PrEP, or dental dams, are in tune with some of our own personal choices. So, although we teach and educate the community on their resources and risk factors, at the end of the day it is still very much about self-awareness around the decisions being made when we enter sexual relationships.
The Black LGBTQ community is very rich and diverse, and when it comes to gender and sexual identity, and the lifestyles that may intersect, many of us enjoy the pleasure of the crossover as we explore our sexual beings. There are certainly sex parties and bathhouses, many of which are frequented by people from all walks of life within the community, including those in sexual healthcare work. There are nudists and leather clubs that will also include many of these workers as well. The unfortunate thing about being in sexual healthcare work is this expectation of perfection around our sexual practices and experiences, without context for what we take pleasure in. I’ve watched many of us in the healthcare field not agree on this very topic as it does tip-toe around a dangerous line surrounding the trust that our clients and the community have in us vs. our own personal and privately-lived experiences and the respect that people should have for it.
I know that there isn’t a right answer for this subject. However, the conversation is still needed so that people can gain an understanding of what it’s like to have to navigate these spaces. Our job is to help reduce the amount of infections of HIV and STIs for the populations that we work with. We do that through education, dissemination of information into undeserved areas, capacity building, outreach, testing and counseling. Our own personal lives may cross into this when we discuss our own sexual experiences. However, that does not mean that we will not participate in those sexual acts deemed “risky.” The importance of the work we do is creating an environment for safer sex practices to be used and for increase in conversations around disclosure, undetectable statuses, PrEP, condom usage and other factors that can help prevent transmission of viruses and infections. So although we teach the community, we are also a part of the community, and as such deserve the same latitude with our sexual practices afforded to those not in the field.
We ain’t nuns! Never have we proclaimed to be these saints that do everything by the book or promise to get it correct each time. We are, however, vessels of information and practical experience that can be used to discuss how to create better sexual environments and experiences to those who come to us for guidance. As we move into an era of the HIV epidemic where death is much less likely, it is important that we don’t forget that we are more than just a number and a statistic. We are the sum of our lived experiences. And with that, the conversation around the sexual experience must continue to expand to one where there is understanding of those who aren’t perfect.
Read more articles from HIV=, here.
Although many of us preach safer sex practices, it doesn’t necessarily mean that we are going to engage in those same practices ourselves. “Why?” you may ask. Because we are human. Because we are imperfect. Because we are people who enjoy the pleasures of being sexual beings without having to feel constrained to practices that diminish our sexual identity, fluidity and ability to navigate sex practices across the spectrum. It’s probably a little bit of all three for each person who deals with this along with a plethora of reasons as to why and why not. Many of the same reasons that our clients give as to why they don’t want to use condoms, or PrEP, or dental dams, are in tune with some of our own personal choices. So, although we teach and educate the community on their resources and risk factors, at the end of the day it is still very much about self-awareness around the decisions being made when we enter sexual relationships.
The Black LGBTQ community is very rich and diverse, and when it comes to gender and sexual identity, and the lifestyles that may intersect, many of us enjoy the pleasure of the crossover as we explore our sexual beings. There are certainly sex parties and bathhouses, many of which are frequented by people from all walks of life within the community, including those in sexual healthcare work. There are nudists and leather clubs that will also include many of these workers as well. The unfortunate thing about being in sexual healthcare work is this expectation of perfection around our sexual practices and experiences, without context for what we take pleasure in. I’ve watched many of us in the healthcare field not agree on this very topic as it does tip-toe around a dangerous line surrounding the trust that our clients and the community have in us vs. our own personal and privately-lived experiences and the respect that people should have for it.
I know that there isn’t a right answer for this subject. However, the conversation is still needed so that people can gain an understanding of what it’s like to have to navigate these spaces. Our job is to help reduce the amount of infections of HIV and STIs for the populations that we work with. We do that through education, dissemination of information into undeserved areas, capacity building, outreach, testing and counseling. Our own personal lives may cross into this when we discuss our own sexual experiences. However, that does not mean that we will not participate in those sexual acts deemed “risky.” The importance of the work we do is creating an environment for safer sex practices to be used and for increase in conversations around disclosure, undetectable statuses, PrEP, condom usage and other factors that can help prevent transmission of viruses and infections. So although we teach the community, we are also a part of the community, and as such deserve the same latitude with our sexual practices afforded to those not in the field.
We ain’t nuns! Never have we proclaimed to be these saints that do everything by the book or promise to get it correct each time. We are, however, vessels of information and practical experience that can be used to discuss how to create better sexual environments and experiences to those who come to us for guidance. As we move into an era of the HIV epidemic where death is much less likely, it is important that we don’t forget that we are more than just a number and a statistic. We are the sum of our lived experiences. And with that, the conversation around the sexual experience must continue to expand to one where there is understanding of those who aren’t perfect.
Read more articles from HIV=, here.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.