Meet Kristi

Kristi has been journaling for over three decades and moved into Clare Housing with her huge duffle bag full of journals. She rifles through them and shows their varied papers, designs, and writing. She doesn’t use them in chronological order, so paging through them is a treasure hunt through Kristi’s writing. She read through one of her poems: The journey gets tough and I feel lost.

When Kristi was diagnosed with HIV in 1993, her biggest fear was not what you might expect. “I wasn’t scared I was gonna die [but] how I was going to hurt my family,” she says “I was scared that my family was going to be mad at me.” Describing herself as a “big mama’s baby,” it’s clear that maintaining a close relationship to her family is deeply important to Kristi.

In the early days of her diagnosis, some of Kristi’s family believed stigmatizing misconceptions about HIV. Not understanding that HIV can only be contracted through blood or fluid exchange, her mom held the misconception that HIV can be spread through shared dishes. Early on she would only give Kristi disposable plastic spoons and cups to prevent dishes from being shared with other people in the household. Since then, her mom has worked on learning more about HIV.

“We [recently] went to a Byerly’s that was just opening and I was tasting food and she said ‘let me taste it’ and I said ‘oh, mom, get another spoon’ so, y’know, she’d feel comfortable. And she goes ‘no, I can take that one.” Kristi was happily surprised that her mother felt free to share a spoon with her daughter. When they got home afterwards her mom showed her “she had two books all about AIDS. My mom took it like a trooper… she got educated about it and everything.”

The move to Clare Housing has been tremendous for Kristi. “I love it here,” she says. Her cozy apartment is filled with personality, from the leafy green plants that fill the space to her colorful, pattern-filled décor, creating a healing home for her and her dog – her fur baby Bowze. “I’m at peace, finally. At almost 65 years old, I’m at peace. And if it wasn’t for Clare Housing, and the staff and the educators out here for HIV in Minnesota… I probably wouldn’t be here.”

She reads another poem and reflects on how much growth she can see through her journaling, that she’s not the same person she once was. Life past AIDS, you live. You live your best as you can, keep your head up high. No shame, no guilt. I’m doing my best.