Insert Cool Ethical Title Here.

  I took an ethics class last semester. I took it simply because I thought that it would be an easy A and I needed the 3 credits to be eligible for full time financial aid benefits. Let me tell you that (for me) it was the hardest darn class that I’ve EVER taken in my life. And I’ve taken some relatively hard classes. I’m going into the health field (although now I’m thinking that Finance sounds fun) so I’ve taken Microbiology, Chemistry and all of those upper end science classes where you have to study all day and night long to get by. Ethics was much more difficult.

Ethics was hard because it wasn’t as simple as memorizing, something that I happen to be REALLY good at. With all of my other classes it was a matter of simply memorizing information and spitting it back out. I didn’t really have to fully understand it per say. But with Ethics there were endless discussions that we were required to be a part of (participation was a BIG part of the grade) and there were many papers to write. Technically there were no right or wrong answers, which might make it seem like the class should have been easy. But it wasn’t – by any means. It was highly challenging. The kind of class where you really have to use your brain and understand what various authors are saying enough to be able to interpret their words into your own.

I hated the class at first. The readings took me hours to complete. And I still didn’t feel like I fully understood what people like Plato were saying. I found the readings very interesting/stimulating, but they were way hard to comprehend. And I’m an A+ honor society student.

Initially I thought about dropping the class. I really considered it. Mostly because of the big group project that was assigned. Ick! And the project had to be – gulp – presented in front of the entire class, which was about 30 people. I hate oral presentations and I hate group projects. My mouth always goes dry and my voice gets all shaky and crackly when I have to speak in front of groups. The other thing I hate is group projects. To me they feel like a waste of time. I feel like I can get things done much quicker if I do them myself. For instance, the group project was assigned at the beginning of the semester. If it were something that I could have done myself I would have had it done within the first few weeks. No lie. But being that it was a group project and everyone wanted to dilly dally we didn’t have it done until the week before it was due, which was 3 months after it was initially assigned. And I still ended up doing 95% of the work anyway. Ugh.

For the project we were supposed to write and present a modern day ethical issue. I was trying to be into the group thing at first so I came to class prepared with a list of possible topics. The one that I really wanted to do was the issue of mandatory AIDS testing and disclosure. Would you believe that people in my group actually said, “No, that’s stupid. I mean anyone who has AIDS is dumb if they don’t want to tell other people that they’ve got it. That’s not an ethical issue.” Man that PISSED me off being that my Dad passed away from AIDS and that they have no idea and can’t even imagine what living with such a disease is like. Ignorance!

The group turned down all of my other well thought out ideas as well. I literally had spent over an hour coming up with possible ideas and even went to the extent of printing out information on each possible topic. They poo pooed all over each one of my ideas and in the end decided to go with Abortion. Yes, I understand that it is an ethical issue, but come on! It is the most overplayed ethical issue. I’m sure that every single semester the ethics teacher has someone present that issue. She must be sick of hearing the same thing over and over. We all know all about it. Why not do something that is less talked about? And frankly, more interesting.

It doesn’t matter too much. I ended up being able to write my paper on AIDS after all for a different non-group project and in honor of my Dad I have posted (previously) my ethics paper. The original paper title was ‘Step Out of the Cave’. We were supposed to compare our modern day issue with some of the readings from our textbook. I compared the AIDS issue with Platos idea of the cave. If you haven’t read this work by Plato I highly recommend it. Even if you’re not usually into such readings, you may find yourself actually enjoying it. I did.

In the end I am very glad that I stayed in the class, because lo and behold I did learn a lot. Ethics is nothing like what I thought it would be. I thought it would be simple questions of right or wrong, but it is WAY more than that. It is very philosophical and HEAVY. Some people are naturals with the subject, but for me personally it is not my strong point. I definitely grew from this class and feel that my powers of critical thinking have improved at least slightly.

 

 

The Memory Box

  I decided to do some re-organizing last night.

You know how it is. You let things go for quite some time and before you know it there are a stack of papers sitting on your desk that need to be filed away somewhere.

You try your hardest to ignore the mounting tasks that need to be completed and for a while that works just fine.

But sooner or later you can’t stand to look at the mess.

Something needs to be done.

When the motivation to clean up hits me, I have to take it immediately, or I might lose it for another few months.

Last night it hit me.

While cleaning up and putting things away, I came across my “memory box”.

The term ‘memory tub’ would probably be more appropriate. It’s a HUGE plastic Tupperware container that I could almost take a bath in if I wanted to. I could definitely give both of my cats a wash in it at the same time – but there’s no way that would ever happen.

Anyway, I decided to open it up and revisit memory lane.

There are many things in that box.

All have meaning.

Most are from childhood or my teen years.

Only a few things are from the present.

The things that mean that most to me are the things that were my Dads – or things that remind me of him.

I treasure those items more than anything I own.

Last night I came across his wedding ring, which I had (oddly enough) forgotten that I had. I put it on immediately. It fits on my index finger and I’m going to wear it from now on.

Perhaps I wasn’t ready for it until now.

He’s been gone from my life for 8 long years, yet the pain of his loss hasn’t eased much.

I still cry. Hard. Especially when I open up that memory box and see the beautiful framed picture of him pre-sickness.

He didn’t deserve to die. It’s not fair that he was taken away.

He was SO young – 37. Yet he had lived a life that was probably more full than many people twice his age.

But that doesn’t mean that he was ready to go, or that I was ready to have him leave.

I only hope that he knew how much I love him.

I wish that I had told him more often.

I wish that I had listened to his stories with more attention.

I wish that I remembered more about him.

I was 17 when he died and in a lot of ways I think that I’ve remained stuck there, trapped in that time of my life, motionless.

Today nothing is the way I pictured it would be.

He’s supposed to be here.

I want him to be here.

I want him to walk me down the aisle.

I want him to give me advice about everything from cars to movies.

Last night I stared at pictures of my childhood for an incredibly long time. I pretended that if I thought about him hard enough and stared at those pictures long enough that I would be able to be transported back in time. To a place where he’s alive, healthy and well. To a time where I am happy and safe.

If I could somehow send a message to the younger me I would say, “Cherish your Dad NOW! Spend all the time that you can with him and let him know how much you love him! Do it while you can!”

I feel like if I had paid more attention to him and been less consumed by teenage stupidity that perhaps I could have saved him. Like my love may have been able to heal him.

With him gone life feels cold and empty.

Nobody loves me like he did and nobody could ever take his place.

He loved me unconditionally.

He wasn’t my blood, yet to him I was more than blood.

Now he’s dead and there’s nobody to look out for me or to guide me.

I’m all alone. And I don’t know where to go or what to do.

What hurts the most is that I seem to be the only one who cares that he’s gone.

It makes me angry that people can’t remember the good things about people once they have passed. Everyone is so quick to bring up the negative shit. It’s not fair. Everyone has flaws, why can’t we remember the good parts? There was so much good.

It seems like the people who remember him only remember the negative and everyone else pretends that he never existed.

But I can’t do that.

I won’t let him die.

Not again.

I already lost him once.

I will keep him alive and well in my heart and thoughts for as long as I live.

Although memories are certainly no substitute for the real thing.

I so badly wish that I could see him face to face and have a conversation with him. Now that I’m older there would be so many more things to talk about with him. There are so moments that we never got to have.

I feel robbed.

I searched his Bible (one of the only remaining things of his) frantically last night, trying to find something, anything. Some clue as to what he was thinking at the time. All I found were a few small handwritten words “all have sinned” scribbled in the very back of the book.

I don’t know what I was hoping for.

I’ve searched that Bible before – many times. In fact I search it every time that I revisit my memory box.

I always hope that perhaps there was something I missed the last time. Some sort of message from him to me. A message that lets me know that he’s okay and that he knows how much I love him.

I miss you Dad.

Combating the AIDS Stigma

  In the year 1981 the world took a devastating hit as AIDS entered the horizon.

This was the year that the first case of AIDS was officially identified.

At that time very little was known about the disease. We were all in the dark, in a cave so to speak, seeing only mere shadows of a gruesome reality.

Nobody understood what this condition was or how it was spread from person to person.

Twenty-six years later and we have a much better understanding of this condition; however, many of us still remain chained within that cave of ignorance.

Since the first case was brought into the open it’s been estimated that more than a half-million US citizens have died from this disease. In fact, AIDS has grown to epidemic proportions and has traveled around the world and back again, bringing with it modified and updated versions of itself, making it even harder to cope with medically.

AIDS has become such an issue of global magnitude that more and more people are considering the idea of implementing some type of mandatory testing and disclosure procedures.

Opponents of disclosure stand strong in the core belief that as humans we are all entitled to certain fundamental and inalienable rights, such as privacy and autonomy.

Proponents directly challenge this idea, arguing that by nature of being human we are all connected to each other and therefore have certain responsibilities to one other, including disclosing pertinent medical information that may lead to the protection of others.

Most enthusiasts of disclosure trust that by identifying people with this syndrome the chances of it being passed along further will be greatly reduced, as uninfected people will be better protected if they are equipped with the knowledge of who they need to be precautious with. It is considered by many of these advocates a basic philosophical concept – giving up ones rights of autonomy and privacy to benefit the ‘greater good’.

Opponents fight back claiming that such practices will not increase the safety of others. They call attention to the reality that AIDS is relatively difficult to catch and that unless you are in the habit of having unprotected sex or sharing needles you are at an incredibly low risk of being exposed. Additionally it is suggested that disclosing such personal information would likely result in vast forms of discrimination in all areas of the infected individuals lives. It is presumed that increased suffering would be dumped upon the inflicted individuals and that no real benefits would be reaped for the rest of society.

These arguments raise a couple of pertinent questions:

Would mandatory testing and disclosure really be accomplishing a greater good?

Would the knowledge of who has AIDS really increase the safety of others?

I argue no on both accounts and go as far as to contend that such practices would drastically work against the greater good.

Due to society’s overall lack of education regarding the facts of AIDS, mandatory disclosure practices would indubitably do little more than to increase unnecessary fear and panic among the general population. Moreover, those who have AIDS would be treated markedly different and left highly vulnerable. Some would even suffer physical attacks.

The prevailing lack of understanding regarding the nature of this syndrome leads me to suppose that the time has arrived for society to step out from its dark cave of half-knowledge. For it is only in the light that we will be able to see the reality that such practices would cause much more harm than good.

How do we leave this cave of illusion? By listening to Plato and allowing reason to guide us.

It is time to stop fear (fear of AIDS and fear of those with AIDS) from leading our actions. More than ever we need to gain control over the many-headed beasts of our natures and let truth (the facts about AIDS) reign rather than misinformation and false assumptions.

It’s understandable, and even forgivable, that in the 80’s people went to dramatic extremes in an attempt to control AIDS. In fact, a group named PANIC actually proposed quarantining any HIV infected individuals. While today most would likely agree such action to be an unnecessary and unethical move, at the time it seemed to made sense. For all they knew, AIDS was transmitted as easily as the common cold.

Today there is no excuse for such ignorance, but it abides.

Current research proves that AIDS is not easily transmissible, yet many remain convinced that the virus can be contracted from casual contact, sharing a glass or from kissing. The truth is that the only high risks are swapping sexual fluids or blood (or breast milk), typically via unprotected sex or sharing needles.

Despite these hard facts AIDS still carries with it a seemingly immortal stigmatism that often leads to repugnant forms of discrimination.

I have witnessed firsthand the pain and injustice that AIDS victims must endure when the public becomes aware of their medical state.

From the time that I was 9 years old until the age of 17 my parents kept a massive secret from me: the fact that they were HIV positive. They didn’t tell anyone else either for fear of what would be thought.

As my teen years went on my Dad became increasingly ill as HIV progressed into AIDS. He couldn’t hide his sickness any longer and finally let the cat out of the bag to both myself and to the Pastor of the church that we had attended since I was 9 years old.

I remember how different life quickly became for us.

Our Pastor, uneducated as to the facts of AIDS, thought that it was his duty to tell the members of the church (to protect them from infection) of my parents ailment.

These misguided actions dramatically amplified the already present pain in my life and more so the lives of my parents. They were overbearingly judged against, ridiculed and gossiped about by the people who I would have expected it from the least.

Members of the church would smuggly comment on how my parents must have been ‘bad people’ to end up with such a ‘disgusting disease’.

The common belief was that they must deserve this punishment – why else would God let it happen?

People stopped coming over to our house for fear of ‘breathing in the virus’. If they were ‘courageous’ enough to come over they would refuse anything to drink and avoid all food as if it were the plague.

People even began assuming that I had AIDS. They theorized that if I hadn’t been born with it I would have surely caught it simply by living in the same space. I had to start giving long explanations, “Well he’s actually my step-dad, he’s not blood related but he’s the one who raised me since I was 9 so I call him Dad.” I hated giving this explanation (especially considering the low risk of HIV/AIDS being passed during birth and the near impossibility of catching it just from living together) but after losing several ‘friends’ (due to their fear of catching AIDS from me) I felt it necessary to.

What the majority fails to realize is that the knowledge of whether or not someone has AIDS doesn’t directly change anything for anyone except for that individual. That is to say that my behavior shouldn’t change if I find out that you have AIDS and vice versa.

Essentially we should assume that everyone is infected, which again shouldn’t change anything about our behaviors. It is already our responsibility to take proper precautions (such as safe sex and using clean needles if we use them – hopefully we don’t) with everyone that we encounter.

We shouldn’t only be cautious with people confirmed to have HIV/AIDS, as many people who have this virus are unaware. Furthermore, even if someone has been tested recently it is not a guarantee (due to the lag period involved with this virus) that they are negative. Precautions should always be taken.

But I digress. 

Another view to consider regarding mandatory AIDS testing and disclosure is that of an economical standpoint.

It is an exorbitantly expensive procedure, costing between $300,000 – $400,000 per case identified.

Wouldn’t it make more sense if this money were instead channeled into more useful avenues?

More beneficial to all would be to construct a better educational system (regarding this disease) beginning in grade school to establish a well-informed population instead of a fear based one.

Conclusively it is the responsibility of all educated souls to direct less informed individuals out of the cave of shadows and illusions.

As Plato related in Republic this is a very difficult task, but it must be done if we are to progress.  AIDS is a global challenge, not an individual problem. We need to join world forces, model the Buddhas way and let no action bring suffering upon another.

To quote Hume, “…the whole human race would form only one family…with as entire regard to the necessities of each individual, as if our own interests were most intimately concerned.”

For this to be done we need to stop the unwarranted fear of HIV/AIDS while simultaneously reducing the spread of this virus.

Surely mandatory testing and disclosure will not accomplish this task.

Instead we need to weave a plan that entails educating the public from a young age about the facts, encouraging voluntary testing (while ensuring that those who do turn up positive are not discriminated against) and channeling our money into more constructive approaches like global awareness and advanced medical research on how to overcome this tragedy.