Eric Moore

At the risk of being overly dramatic, I can say with certainty that Friday, March 10, 1995, is my own personal "day of infamy." On that day, I was escorted into the doctor's office (instead of the nurses' station) and told I had tested HIV+. Everything I knew about myself was turned upside-down. The transformation continues.

I was an undergraduate student in the Social Work program at the University of Kansas when I was diagnosed. I returned to KU in January 1993, determined to make the world a better place. For a time, I was quite the fire-breathing queer student activist resolved to save the world. Then I was diagnosed. I thought I was going to die. Completing my BSW became my entire existence. I did my practicum placement as a student case manager for people living with HIV/AIDS. Although not the main focus of the position, I did do some advocacy work. (I distinctly remember an entire afternoon spent as the intermediary between a doctor's office and an insurance company, trying to secure a prescription for a client.)

After I graduated, a funny thing happened. I did not die. It was May 1996. I completed my BSW. My CD-4 count fell to an AIDS diagnosis. I was supposed to die. I expected to die. And I did not. So, I did what many unemployed recent college graduates (and people with terminal illnesses) do. I moved in with my parents. After all, I had friends and clients who moved home to die.

Guess what? Once again, I did not die. Now I was really confused. It finally began to dawn on me that I had work to do. I was not going to die until that work, whatever it was, had been completed. I considered enrolling in a graduate program that offered a joint law degree and Master of Social Work. Although I was learning that I was probably not about to die any time soon, the thought of spending an additional five years in school did not hold much appeal at the time. I figured if it could be done on the graduate level, then maybe I could do something similar on the undergraduate level with a BSW and a Paralegal Certificate.

I now do the work I love and I love the work I do. As a part-time (for health reasons) paralegal advocate for the HIV/AIDS Law Project in Phoenix, Arizona, I have realized the dream of my fire-breathing days. I use the skills and training of both professions to assist people with HIV/AIDS in that ever-elusive pursuit for justice. Whether it be a case of estate planning, employment discrimination, debt collection, or any number of other topics, I go to bed at night and know that I made a difference today.

Am I going to die? Of course I am. We all will.

Am I going to die of AIDS? Probably.

Am I going to die today? Probably not. And tomorrow does not look good, either.

I have a focus. Many years ago I dedicated my life to helping others. Little did I know that I would someday be one of the "others." I remain dedicated - only now, those I help are my brothers- and sisters-in-arms, fighting this disease every second of every minute of every day.

I can think of nothing I would rather do.