05/02/2026
Last weekend during outreach, SLK met a young woman who carried something heavy that had followed her for most of her life.
As she began to talk, she shared that when she was a child, a family member would point to pictures of beautiful women and say things like, “If you look like her, you will get AIDS,” or “If you mess around with fast boys, you’ll end up with AIDS.” Those words didn’t just land in her memory—they settled deep into her spirit. For over 30 years, she had been living with fear that was rooted in misinformation and shame.
When she came to our outreach table, she wasn’t rushing in. She was drawn in—by the color, the laughter, the way people were just… present with one another. One of our team members didn’t rush her either. They listened. Really listened. No correcting. No minimizing. Just space.
And in that space, something shifted.
She started talking. First carefully. Then longer. What began as a hesitant moment turned into more than 30 minutes of storytelling, reflection, and release. At one point, she paused and said softly, “Okay… I can do this.”
We stayed with her. Encouraged her. Grounded her. Another 20 minutes passed as she worked through her breathing, her fear, her memories—everything she had been carrying alone for so long.
When she was finally ready, she agreed to testing. A simple finger prick. A moment that, for her, felt anything but simple.
Then the result: negative.
She broke.
She cried. She laughed. She hugged the team. Not out of relief alone—but out of release. Out of finally facing something she had been taught to fear her entire life and realizing she could breathe again.
And that moment stayed with us.
Because women like her are not rare.
Women of color—particularly Black women—are not just affected by HIV in Maryland, they are carrying the burden of new infections among women. This disparity is driven by structural inequities, stigma, lack of access to prevention tools like PrEP, and misinformation that still creates fear—just like the story she shared with us.
That is why “A.I.N.’T. I a Woman, HELL YEA!” exists.
This is for women of color in Prince George’s, Charles, and Montgomery Counties who feel called to show up for other women—not as experts, but as sisters. As listeners. As encouragers. As people willing to help create the kind of space that can hold someone’s fear long enough for it to turn into healing.
You will be trained in HIV and PrEP education and supported as you join community outreach events alongside partners within the Tri-County Health Network. But more than that, you will be part of creating moments like this—where someone walks up afraid, and leaves a little freer.
We need more of us.
More safe spaces. More honest conversations. More courage to sit with people in their story instead of rushing them through it.
If this speaks to you, scan the QR code on the flyer. Training is coming soon.
If you have any questions, please feel free to contact the office at 301-453-2334