Category: HIV

USCHA reminded me: gratitude is how we honor the fight, and responsibility is how we continue it!


What USCHA Taught Me About Legacy and Belonging

This was my first USCHA (US Conference on HIV/AIDS), and I wasn’t ready for it. I’ve been to HINAC (HIV Is Not a Crime) and AIDS Watch each twice, but this was different. There’s a magic at USCHA that gets under your skin.

I travelled to USCHA as part of NMAC’s 50+ Cohort, joining others like me from around the country who are aging and living with HIV. I’m grateful for the experience and the connections I made.

I’m 57. I’ve been living with HIV for 13 years. That’s my place in the timeline. Not better, not worse – just mine. But when I saw the decades of HIV/AIDS laid out at the Friday plenary, the science, the struggle, the survival – it cracked something open in me. For the first time, I felt the weight of what it means to be a long-term survivor. And I also knew that wasn’t me.

I came along after protease inhibitors, after HAART reshaped the fight. When I was diagnosed in 2012, my doctor told me, “The guidance is changing. We used to tell people to wait. Now we recommend you start treatment right away.” He still gave me the option – that’s how new it was. I didn’t understand then how historic that moment was. I do now.

In the 80s, I was a teenager. In the 90s, I was climbing the corporate ladder, coming out of the closet, largely disconnected from my community. By the time I came out, the epidemic wasn’t invisible anymore, but it was still tearing through our communities. The mid-90s would become the deadliest years. And while that grief was swallowing a generation, I was safe in my bubble, largely untouched, largely unaware. That’s the part that haunts me. The loss I didn’t live. The fire I didn’t feel.

So no – I don’t carry the same survivor’s guilt as those who were told they would die and somehow lived. My guilt is different. It’s the guilt of surviving in a post-HAART world, of being shielded by privilege, of waking up to a history I wasn’t part of, but which shaped everything around me.

At USCHA, no one made me feel like an outsider. But I did. I think people at USCHA saw me at 57 and assume I’m a long-term survivor. I’m not. I’m someone aging with HIV, without that same story. That difference is mine to wrestle with.

And yet, USCHA gave me clarity. It gave me a way to honor what came before me and what is still unfolding now. Because just as I look back in gratitude, I also look forward, knowing that those who come of age in the U=U and PrEP era will have their own place in history, too.

To say USCHA was “life-changing” sounds cliché. But this was something deeper. A reckoning. A reminder that every place in the timeline matters, including mine. And for that – for the people who came before me, for the community that still carries me forward – I am deeply grateful.

Keep telling the story,

Professor Peacock

Note: These are my thoughts and my story. I used AI to make helpful edits to my ramblings and online journaling.

Shadow Play: A Pop-Up First Friday Event


Shadow Play – Where bodies and cities meet in light and dark.

This exhibition brings together two queer artists who use shadow as both material and metaphor. Leslie Keith Shaw traces fleeting figures cast on sidewalks and streets, while Todd Fuqua creates digitally projected performances on the body itself. Together, their work transforms shadow into a space of queer joy, resistance, and play – blurring the line between public and intimate, concrete and flesh.

Finding Beauty in Unexpected Places

Art has always been a way to make sense of the world, to capture what might otherwise go unnoticed, and to transform struggle into something meaningful. For both artists featured in Shadow Play, creating images is not just about aesthetics. It is about survival, resilience, and finding joy where others might not think to look.

Leslie Keith Shaw has been making art in Indianapolis for more than two decades. His practice blends photography, scanography, and digital manipulation to transform everyday textures into vibrant, layered compositions. Sidewalk cracks, overlooked objects, and even items placed on a flatbed scanner become portals to hidden beauty. Living with HIV since 1987—a time when long-term survival was rarely imagined—Leslie approaches art as both sanctuary and celebration. Every piece is proof that life continues to hold mystery, meaning, and joy.

Todd Fuqua is a queer, non-binary photographer and visual storyteller based in Indianapolis who is also living with HIV. Their practice lives at the intersection of art and advocacy – what they call artivism. Through projects like #BLOOM, #CelebrateUU, and #ShadoWORK, Todd uses photography to explore identity, resilience, and liberation. Their imagery combines shadows, textures, and layered storytelling, with a strong emphasis on collaboration. Todd’s work challenges stigma, sparks dialogue about U=U and HIV criminalization, and celebrates the fullness of queer and marginalized lives.

What ties their practices together is a shared belief: that beauty and truth are always present, even if hidden at first glance. It could be a patch of sidewalk transformed into radiant abstraction. It could be a portrait layered with resilience and shadow. Both artists invite viewers to see differently. They encourage us to notice, to question, and to feel.

Together, their work affirms that art isn’t only about what is seen. It’s about what is discovered.

Call to Action

Join us for Shadow Play, a one-night pop-up exhibition on First Friday, October 4th, at 862 Virginia Avenue, Indianapolis. Step into an evening of light, shadow, and layered storytelling—an exploration of resilience, identity, and beauty in unexpected places. Don’t just see the art—experience the transformation.

RSVP

Media Kit

Shadow Play Press ReleaseDownload

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Shadow Play: Where Bodies and Cities Meet in Light and Dark
One-Night Pop-Up Exhibition | First Friday, October 3, 2025 | Indianapolis

Indianapolis, IN — This October, two Indianapolis-based queer artists will bring light, shadow, and layered storytelling to life in a one-night-only pop-up exhibition. Shadow Play opens Friday, October 3, 2025, at 862 Virginia Avenue (Mass Ave Knit Shop) in Fountain Square, as part of Indy’s First Friday gallery walk.

Shadow Play brings together the work of Leslie Keith Shaw and Todd Fuqua, two artists who use shadow as both material and metaphor. Shaw traces fleeting figures cast on sidewalks and streets, while Fuqua creates digitally projected performances on the body itself. Together, their practices transform shadow into a space of queer joy, resistance, and play – blurring the line between public and intimate, concrete and flesh.

For Shaw, who has been creating art in Indianapolis for more than two decades, overlooked textures – sidewalk cracks, discarded objects, even items placed on a scanner – become radiant abstractions. Diagnosed with HIV in 1987, Shaw’s practice is both sanctuary and celebration, proof that life continues to hold meaning, mystery, and joy.

Fuqua, a queer non-binary photographer and storyteller also living with HIV, works at the intersection of art and advocacy – what they call artivism. Through community-driven projects such as #BLOOM, #CelebrateUU, and #ShadoWORK, Fuqua layers photography, shadow, and texture to spark dialogue around stigma, resilience, and liberation.

What unites their work is a shared belief: that beauty & truth are always present, even if hidden at first glance. Whether drawn from the cracks of a city sidewalk or from the resilience etched on the human body, Shadow Play invites audiences to see differently—to notice, to question, to feel.


Event Details:

Shadow Play
First Friday, October 3, 2025
6:00 – 9:00 p.m.
Mass Ave Knit Shop: 862 Virginia Avenue, Indianapolis, IN 46203

Admission is free and open to the public.

The artists anticipate returning for November and December First Fridays, making Shadow Play an evolving installation across the fall season.

Press Contact:
C. Todd Fuqua
Email: todd@ctoddcreations.com | 317-847-1945
Event Website: https://bit.ly/ShadowPlayIndy
Media Kit: https://bit.ly/ShadowPlayMediaKit

Understanding the Emotional Impact of an HIV Diagnosis


“It took me nine years to really begin processing my diagnosis.”

When I was first diagnosed with HIV, I didn’t fully grasp how traumatic that moment was. I understood the medical facts, but what I didn’t understand was the grief – the dreams I thought I lost, the fear of stigma, and the quiet loneliness that followed me for years.

It took me nine years to finally begin dealing with my diagnosis. Nine years before I let myself acknowledge the loss, the shame, and the resilience I would need to rebuild my life. Looking back, I can’t help but feel that the system failed me—or at least, it could have done better.

We don’t just need medical care after a diagnosis. We need mental health care too.

Imagine if, six months after someone tests positive, their care coordinator or peer HIV navigator sat down with them for a simple mental health screening. Not a rushed checklist, but a real conversation. A chance to ask: How are you coping? What’s hardest for you right now? Where are you finding strength, and where do you need support?

I recently used a tool that reminded me how powerful those questions can be. It’s a simple worksheet that invites people living with HIV to reflect on different areas of life: identity, health, stigma, relationships, hope, and emotional wellbeing. In a support group, we each scored ourselves, shared our highs and lows, and talked about what mattered most. The therapeutic value was extraordinary – not because of the paper itself, but because of the way it opened space for one person to help another. HT to Robin who helped author this tool.

Hiv Discussion Worksheet (1)Download

That’s why I want to share this tool, not as a solution in itself, but as a conversation starter. It can be used by providers, peer navigators, or anyone supporting people living with HIV. It creates an opening to talk about the emotional journey, not just the lab results.

For me, it shouldn’t take nine years to reach that point. If we build mental health check-ins into HIV care – whether at six months, a year, or whenever someone is ready – we can help people grieve, heal, and find resilience much earlier.

Because living with HIV is not just about managing a virus. It’s about reclaiming hope, rebuilding purpose, and reminding people: you are more than your diagnosis.

Keep tellin’ the story,

Professor Peacock

Note: These are my thoughts and my story. I used AI to make helpful edits to my ramblings and online journaling, including some organization to be more blog-friendly. AI created the featured image used in my blog.