Keep the South Dirty and Our Needles Clean Laura McTighe (bio), Catherine Haywood (bio), Deon Haywood (bio), Danita Muse (bio), and Iris Gottlieb Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 120] hirty years ago, Women With A Vision (wwav) was just an idea, thought up by a collective of Black women on a front porch in New Orleans, Louisiana. The year was 1989, and the so-called War on Drugs had already been raging for nearly two decades. Black women were increasingly being demonized as "welfare queens" in order to justify the total gutting of the social safety net, just as sensationalized stories about "crack babies" were used to criminalize Black mothers and users in a rapidly ballooning prison industrial complex. The impacts of these policies were lethal. Rates of hiv infection were peaking and the numbers of new hiv infections among Black people exceeded those of white people; those differences still hold today. By the early 1990s, hiv was the second leading cause of death for Black cisgender women between the ages of twenty-five and forty-four. wwav's founders shared an intimate knowledge of how the twin epidemics of hiv and mass criminalization were decimating their communities. They also saw how funding and supportive services were systematically being denied to their people. And so, from their health and human service positions citywide, the wwav foremothers did what Black women always do: they set their hands to building what their community needed.1 This essay is grounded in thirteen years of organizing and research partnership with wwav. Together, we tell the stories of wwav's more than three decades of Black feminist struggle at the intersections of harm reduction and abolition in New Orleans. The methods that our founders used to keep forgotten and dying Black people struggling with addiction alive in the early 1990s were the same as those used to fight back against post–Hurricane Katrina sex work criminalization. These methods continue to guide wwav today in our work around decriminalizaiton. As our foremother Danita Muse puts it, "For wwav, practicing harm reduction in the South has demanded first and foremost the tenacity to believe in what we believed in. It's also helped us to hone our ability to change with the times and continue to be open to new ways of doing things, which we are always developing in partnership with the drug user and sex worker communities with whom we stand." This essay is built, as wwav's work has always been, in relationships and by doing the work.2 You Have to Build a Relationship As the story goes, Danita Muse and Catherine Haywood locked eyes across a crowded health department conference room at the height of the aids epidemic. At the time, Catherine, or "Lady," as she is more often called, was working for the Children's Pediatric aids Program on a project to increase access to hiv testing among people who inject drugs. Danita was [End Page 121] working for the Office of Substance Abuse (now the Office of Behavioral Health) and running support groups for people struggling with addiction. Both women had seen firsthand that the white-led hiv response efforts were only targeting gay bars in their outreach efforts; none were reaching out to poor Black people in New Orleans's ten housing projects, which had the highest documented incidence of hiv transmission in the city. When the Office of Public Health called a meeting after the city received an influx of funds to address a surging syphilis epidemic, both women were in attendance. This time, however, the outreach maps were following the epidemiology. When the city's zip codes were called out, Catherine and Danita claimed the ones to their uptown neighborhoods, including the St. Thomas, Magnolia, Melpomene, and Calliope Projects. That was when their relationship started. They drove the city—Danita in her truck, Lady in her car—to make deliveries. The health department simply wanted them to drop off boxes of condoms at bars, grocery stores, beauty shops, and laundromats. It took a few weeks before Danita and Catherine figured out that the people who ran these businesses were selling their free condoms...
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