A Circle of Strength

The Ujima group, which meets weekly in Southeast Washington, has been described by AIDS workers as the only one of its kind in D.C. (By Nikki Kahn -- The Washington Post)

His life still amazes him, and he often wonders how it is that he survived all the dirty needles and unprotected sex with women, without contracting HIV.

"Only by the grace of God," he says. He's lost so many friends to AIDS that he's stopped counting.

* * *

"Where have you been most broken?" Isler asks in the circle one afternoon in mid-July.

The men are silent, then Russell clears his throat.

"I was applying for a job downtown. Administrative aide, something like that," he says. "I was filling out some forms. And I just thought, 'Am I good enough for this? Do I even have a . . .' "

Lee interrupts. "See, you have to have a different mind-set," he says. "You have to think, 'I can get it, I can do this.' "

A few weeks later, it is Lee who revisits the question about being broken. He talks about, of all things, a Curious George doll he picked up at a dollar store.

"I put it underneath my arm the other night, sat on the bed, and broke down like a child. My old lady came around the bed and said, 'What's wrong with you?' . . . And I just told her, 'I miss everybody. They're all gone.' It just hit me all [at] one time."

Someone new always shows up. This time it's a 44-year-old named Michael, who excuses himself to go to the bathroom three times in 15 minutes, then tells the circle that he remains deep in a crack cocaine addiction.

"I always wanted to be a grown-up when I was kid," he says, "and now I'm a man and I'm acting like a boy."

And someone is always missing.