Teen Voices of AIDS

"Too many young people are frightened to talk about their own HIV," says Adam Tenner, executive director of Metro TeenAIDS. Here, Lydia Robinson, a former Metro TeenAIDS peer educator, lights a candle at a vigil protesting cuts in funding for local groups serving adolescents. (Metro Teenaids)

For Carl, a slim college sophomore from Prince George's County, it's too late. He told his own story one evening last month for the same reason Lyon and D'Angelo published the others. He'd already read the book; the teens' comments were his favorite part. "Teens should know that HIV is real," he said, and he believes hearing from those who know firsthand is the best way, maybe the only way, the message can have real impact.

Like many adolescents who are positive, he never thought it would happen to him. Carl wasn't that knowledgeable about the virus, but he admits to knowing that his sexual hookups could be dangerous. He put off an HIV test for a couple of years. His ignorance kept him sane, kept his fears at bay. Then he got sick during his senior year of high school and no longer could avoid them. He was 17.

He was at Children's when the doctor gave him and his mother the news. It was Jan. 13, 2006 -- Friday the 13th, he said with a small laugh, "what a horrible day to find out." What made it worse: "My mom was just as ignorant on the subject as I was. So when we got home, it was a circus. . . . She made me eat off of paper plates, eat from paper products." For several months, she ordered him to bleach the tub after he bathed. His clothes were washed separately from his brothers' and sisters'.

It took Carl more than a year to come to terms with his status: "I used to have pity parties for myself. You know, that was the hardest part. I would have a weekly pity party, where I would go and I would sob and it would be sob, play the blame game, feel sorry for myself."

Finally, he asked himself, " 'Am I gonna let HIV define who I am as a person?' And I said to myself, 'No, no, I'm not.' " He's been helped by generally good health and the support of a sibling and a few close friends. "I've really become one with who I am," Carl said. "I've embraced being HIV-positive."

His words linger. As do those of the young people speaking from the pages of the book. D'Angelo and Lyon quoted them anonymously to protect their privacy, though the poets among them -- former pediatric HIV patients at the National Institutes of Health -- have names attached.

One of the verses was written with singsong attitude nearly a dozen years ago. Lindsay is still alive today, still hopeful.

Chimi, chimi cocoa puffs, chimi chimi rye

Chimi, chimi cocoa puffs, chimi chimi rye

Lindsay, Lindsay is sick in bed.

She called the doctor and the doctor said

I've got the HIV virus (ding dong)