Final Paper Assignment

     The AIDS, or Auto Immune Deficiency Syndrome, epidemic began in America in 1981. The disease was primarily linked to gay men, carrying with it awful prejudice and discrimination as “the gay disease.” Later, it was discovered that the disease was not solely found in gay men, but also heterosexual drug users as well. The stigma that the disease carried in the 1980s is still present today. We are now aware that AIDS can effect anyone who comes in contact with it.

The Peer Education Program of Los Angeles, or PEPLA, is a non-profit organization that trains teens to educate underprivileged teens about safe sex and HIV/AIDS prevention. I began volunteering at PEPLA in my sophomore year and found an instant passion for it. PEPLA is so successful because teens don’t want to hear adults tell them what to do; however, listening to teens their own age that are educated about being safe makes them pay closer attention and consider what we’re saying rather than passing it off. Most teenagers, especially those who do not have a positive adult figure in their lives, do not want to hear adults preaching at them, or telling them what to do. Teens, if not appropriately educated about safe sex, are the most likely to contract HIV/AIDS. Peer pressure, thinking oneself is invincible, experimentation with drugs and alcohol, and lack of proper education all cause adolescents to have one of the fastest increasing rates of HIV infection in the world. An average of two young adults are infected with HIV every hour of every day. As an educator, I have attended many different shelters and high schools to help spread the correct information about HIV/AIDS prevention.

Throughout my time volunteering with PEPLA, I met so many people with incredible stories. At almost every meeting, I would meet someone living with HIV or AIDS. Hearing their stories and how horribly society has treated them because of a disease they contracted was heart breaking. The horrible fact about those living with the disease is that they are frequently judged and discriminated against because of false information due to the lack of education about how the virus is transmitted. In most cases I came across, the person carrying the disease was infected by someone they had trusted, and never imagined that they themselves would be infected.

I remember very clearly an experience I had while volunteering with PEPLA. I had just begun volunteering as an educator, so I decided to go to a volunteering event after school. My two closest friends had community service hours due the following week, so they decided to come with me as well. We all piled into the car and drove deeper and deeper into the San Fernando Valley. We finally reached our destination, a small, run-down building with the words “Children of the Night” above the door. Children of the Night is a non-profit, privately funded organization that takes runaways and young women, who have been sexually, assaulted off the streets.

We hopped out of the car with growing anticipation, walking up the gray stairs towards the steel-framed front doors. We tried pushing and pulling the door open, realizing it was locked from the inside. I found a small button to the right of the door and pressed it uncertainly. A woman’s voice said, “Can I help you?” I explained, “I’m a member of PEPLA. I’m with Wendy.” Wendy is the fearless leader of the organization, a woman who, despite countless knee injuries, would never miss a volunteer opportunity. However, when my friends and I walked into the dark, bleak lobby, there was no one there besides a middle-aged woman sitting behind a computer screen. As we looked around, it seemed as though we had crossed a threshold from our comfortable reality into a vulnerable, dark fantasy. The receptionist told us to leave our purses and other personal belongings at the front desk. As we handed them over, she asked, “Are you ready?” No one else from PEPLA was there, and this was at the beginning of my training, so the information was not concrete in my mind yet.

Terrified at the thought of being responsible for relaying all the correct information to a group of runaway teenage girls, I found my mind drawing a blank. My friends were confident that I would know all the information and I acted as though I did, but the reality was that I had never been to Children of the Night before, and I had only heard the speeches given a couple of times. The gray, poorly lit hallway ended at a couple of password-locked doors. The doors swung open to reveal a large room with whitewashed walls and forest green leather couches. The space was filled with loud laughter and muffled music. As we got closer to the young women, the laughter faded. Even our overly eager smiles couldn’t hide our discomfort as the girls glared at us like we were adults breaking up their party.

The truth was that, no matter what her story, each of the girls had experienced much more of the real world than me or my friends. To respect the girls’ privacy, we could not ask any personal questions about why they came to Children of the Night. The shelter was created to protect young women from the harmful figures in their lives and from the streets. Whether a girl ran away from sexual abuse in her home, or if she had engaged in prostitution and wanted to escape the streets without harm, one thing was ceertain: all of these girls had been through and seen much more than we had in our protected lives.

Three privileged private-school girls sat down amongst the runaways and reality set in. Somehow, I would have to bridge a connection to these girls. I started by suggesting that everyone should go around the room and say their name and age. Even though I felt like a preschool teacher, trying to pull a reaction from my audience, at least it was something to talk about. The time came for me to begin my speech and, without anyone to look to for back up, I stumbled while trying to rack my brain for information. I looked over at the glaring television and finally recognized a familiar sound. The girls had been watching one of my favorite musicals, Rent, upon our arrival. Without thinking, I exclaimed, “This is the best part!” and one of the girls grabbed the remote and turned up the volume while the others gushed about how great the film is. This was the perfect way to bring up issues of HIV/AIDS in a way that could bring everyone together rather than reciting a speech I barely knew.

Throughout the time we spent with these young women, we sang a little karaoke, played a game of ‘Apples to Apples,’ and shared fashion and dating advice. The anxiety I felt before about giving my speech had melted away as laughter filled the room. As I watched old and new friends acting as though they had known each other for years, I realized that no matter how different our pasts were, none of that mattered in this moment. The barrier between the realities of our backgrounds melted away. I could feel them beginning to trust me as a peer, rather than an outsider. Despite our differences, we each had our own story to share, and we all had just as much to learn from one another.

Three hours flew by, and the receptionist was once again ordering us what to do. Sadly, it was time to go. We said our goodbyes, hugging and promising to be back again. The youngest and seemingly the shyest girl of the group, hugged me tightly, looked me in the eye and said “thank you.” But I was the one who was thankful. These women had taught me so much more than I could ever teach them. I thought these girls would be so different from me that I would not be able to connect with them; however, even though we were very different, we still had a lot of similarities. In fact, our differences taught us more than if we had all come from the same background. We walked quietly back through the muted hallways, retrieving our belongings and venturing out to the car. We were back in our safe and comfortable existence. I marveled that for all the differences there are between people, we are inevitably connected by our humanity. Behind the doors marked ‘Children Of The Night’, it didn’t matter where we came from or what we had or had not seen.

Before this experience, I had never considered volunteer work to be something that genuinely interested me. However, the sense of gratitude and fulfillment that came with spending a few hours actively helping my community changed my perception. I found a passion for it, and my relationship grew stronger and stronger with the girls each time I visited Children of the Night. Finally, I could give my speech about HIV/AIDS prevention many times over because I felt so relaxed among these girls.

Building relationships with people outside of my immediate community has helped me grow as a human being. My high school breaded sheltered young adults who have not seen beyond the boundaries of their comfortable upper middle-class lives. I feel as though I am lucky to have been able to meet people who are so different from myself and that could teach me about real world experiences rather than living in a bubble provided by my peers.  Whether it’s the young women from Children of the Night, people living with HIV or AIDS, or other students that share my passion for educating teens about safety and prevention, each one has showed me a glimpse of the real world.

Furthermore, when you are stuck in this seemingly inescapable bubble, it is hard to realize that there is so much more out in the world that could use the help of our young minds. One gets easily caught up with the day-to-day drama and stress that it is hard to have a grasp on the big picture. For example, a high school student’s biggest concern is getting into the college of their choice. They would rather spend those extra couple hours they have free from schoolwork or extra curricular activities working on college applications than helping the community at large. In times like these, one is primarily concerned with what will immediately affect him or her instead of what will affect those around her that she does not even know. However, being and active member and volunteering in one’s community can relieve this stress and anxiety because one can accomplish something rewarding while getting perspective on how seemingly catastrophic issues like a college essay or final exam can seem so minute among the bigger picture.