Shana Cozad
Facing the Fear Factor
Paul Austring Photography
Teaching her kids not to be afraid goes hand in hand with explaining why the neighbors are worried about a PTA mom with HIV.
my 8-year-old daughter is pulling her hair out trying her darndest to learn new spelling words. In her tantrum and tears, she confesses she hates spelling, she hates the boy on the bus who makes fun of her hair, and she hates it when the other neighborhood girls question her about her HIV-positive mom. I ask gently prodding questions and offer her oodles of emotional support (along with plenty of Kleenex). Once her wailing subsides, we get to the meat of her frustration and talk about how weird people truly are. Not us, of course— other people. An 8-year-old’s understanding of discrimination situations is really quite astounding. She gets it that there are people out there who can’t eat the crust on their PB&J sandwiches or who don’t like gays or are fearful of AIDS. Those things are easy to understand. What the two of us can’t fathom is why we are unable to change some people’s perceptions in this world. Why can’t that one neighborhood girl come over and play at our house? What is her mother so afraid of? Of course it goes without saying that I would never participate in any high-risk acts with a child. Nor do I walk around the house randomly spouting blood or other bodily fluids. So why do some people insist on harboring the same ugly AIDS fears people experienced decades ago? Some folks are in love with their fears—it’s true, they can be addicting. Some folks just refuse to drop them, even when they know full well that they’re illogical. Some people have been taught since childhood that fear is a great motivator. But fear needs to be managed. When it comes to AIDS, I do my best to maintain a healthy fear of it rather than a disabling one. Popcorn and chocolate, not always in that order, help get the wheels turning in my family’s brains. I often ask my kids if they think
I’m a good mommy and they usually reply with bland enthusiasm and verbal wishes for less school and more Christmas toys. I explain that parenting—like life—doesn’t come with a manual and is often fraught with fears and uncertainty. The issue of fear comes up a lot in our household. My kids ask how they can stop being afraid. Attempting to teach fearlessness is one of the more challenging aspects of being a parent. I don’t want them to fear my death, but I do want them to be afraid of sex without condoms. I don’t want them to be afraid of standing up and being themselves, but I do want them to fear ignorance and hate. I don’t want them to be afraid of saying “HIV” out loud or talking about AIDS, no matter where we are. Yet I do want them to be afraid of a backward-operating society in which some have reverted to caveman-style communication and problem solving. Some fears are worthwhile; others are not. But fears that keep you prisoner or powerless are not conducive to dealing with HIV in a healthy way, regardless of whether you’re a parent living with it or a child living with a parent who has it. I am—and always will be—a human being first, a mother second, and a person with a disease third. The neighborhood girl’s mother may not have given me the chance to explain AIDS or provide any factual information to her. And although I don’t like it, I have to accept it. In the end, my best piece of wisdom chalks up to, “Today we will shine brightly and beautifully. Who knows what tomorrow brings, but it’s not here yet, so I can’t practice being fearless until then.” Shana Cozad has been living with an AIDS diagnosis for 19 crazy years. A full-blooded Native American, she shares her jam-packed life with one almost-husband, three children, and a pack of dogs.
nov ember /december 201 1 HIV PLUS
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