By Will Perry, III
ALUTA CONTINUA (THE STRUGGLE CONTINUES) IN THE FIGHT AGAINST THE IGNORANCE OF HIV/AIDS
Since 1982, when the virus and disease were finally given a name, there have been several conspiracy theories that have surfaced and influenced the thinking and behavioral patterns of many communities, particularly communities of color. Theories based on misinformation, premature hypotheses, limited research and cultural biases saturated American societies throughout the 80’s. The 90’s brought better education and treatment concerning HIV/AIDS, but the damage had already been done and the weed seeds of lies had already been planted and started to take root in the minds of many.
Living 
Everyday life
Everyday life
Everyday life
By Annagail Lynes
I would watch Dan sing in choir. He would tease me at lunch. He kissed me on the cheek. Bought me my first flower given to me by a guy. He baby-sat the flour sack child that I had to carry around for Family Living class and claimed to be the father. He even told me he loved me. Little did I know that he say that to all the girls. I was in love with him.
I would watch Dan sing in choir. He would tease me at lunch. He kissed me on the cheek. Bought me my first flower given to me by a guy. He baby-sat the flour sack child that I had to carry around for Family Living class and claimed to be the father. He even told me he loved me. Little did I know that he say that to all the girls. I was in love with him.
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May Olusola: Thank you Mr. Butler for agreeing to let me interview you.
Jonathan Butler: The pleasure is mine
May Olusola: What got you started in the gospel arena?
By Ray M. Wong
I didn't think my father cared about me. I left Hong Kong at age 5, when my mother divorced my father in 1968. My father never contacted me. I lived in America. He lived a world away. Then in 1996, at age 33, I returned with my mom to Hong Kong and met my father. I spoke only English. He spoke only Cantonese. My mother needed to serve as interpreter.
I didn't think my father cared about me. I left Hong Kong at age 5, when my mother divorced my father in 1968. My father never contacted me. I lived in America. He lived a world away. Then in 1996, at age 33, I returned with my mom to Hong Kong and met my father. I spoke only English. He spoke only Cantonese. My mother needed to serve as interpreter.
After I married my wife, Quyen, in 1998, I visited Hong Kong again to introduce her to my father. When Quyen and I had kids, I heard through my mom that he wanted to see our children. So I invited him to the U.S., told him I would pay for his plane ticket and that he could stay with us. But I never received a response. I didn't think he cared. So I went about my life.
By Dr. Chas Brothers
I don't have many fond memories of my childhood. My mother was and is a practicing alcoholic, while my stepfather was a practitioner of 5 out of the 6 known forms of child abuse. You see, growing up, I thought my stepfather was my real father. It wasn't until I was 16 years old that I found out differently. That's when everything started to make sense.
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