On hope, despair, and how to keep doing things when it all feels pointless

I am not a very hopeful person. I never have been, really. I was always a glass-half-empty kind of kid. If I could complain about something, I would, and my mom used to joke that I made everything so much harder because of my negative outlook.

And the thing is, there are so many reasons to be negative. There are so many reasons to refuse to give hope a foothold in the crevices of my brain. People suck, the government sucks, the weather sucks, everything just sucks.

But does everything really suck? One of my favorite authors, John Green, released a new book this month called Everything is Tuberculosis. In it, he weaves the personal story of his friend Henry, a young man he met in Sierra Leon afflicted with drug-resistant TB, with historical facts about the disease and current roadblocks the TB fighters of the world are facing to try and help people like Henry. It's a fascinating, and often tragic book and you'd think, based on the subject matter, that it would be full of despair. People are needlessly dying in countries where they cannot access the cure to a curable disease, and that, in and of itself, is a very devastating thing.

There is tragedy all around us, but this book does something miraculous. It reminds us that we, as humans, can do something about that tragedy. There is a reason to be hopeful and that reason is US. Humans have the capability to do terrible things, that's true, but humans also have the ability to be great.

In 2004, I was just about to graduate college, and that year, 2.1 million people worldwide died from AIDS. In 2023, an estimated 630,000 people died from AIDS globally. That's almost 1.5 million people who didn't die of AIDS in 2023. 1.5 MILLION. In the United States, at the height of the AIDS epidemic, almost 60,000 people died (in 1995). In 2021, that number was less than 4000.

Is it still tragic that anyone is dying from a preventable illness? Of course. But also, think of those humans that watched friend after friend die in the late 80s and early 90s. If we could look them in the eye, take their hands, and say, "look at how far we've come," what would they say? How can thinking of them, their reaction that AIDS doesn't have to be a death sentence, not elicit a wave of hope, a light so bright it can drive out all but the most stubborn shadows of despair?

In a time when it feels like cruelty is the point of our current administration, I encourage everyone to remember that just as humans have the capacity to be cruel and filled with anger and hate, we also can be great. Look for organizations in your own community that are doing the good things. Make hygiene kits for unhoused people, attend a protest, start a community garden, volunteer for Meals on Wheels, run for your local school board, put up a Free Little Library, walk around your local Farmer's Market and meet someone new. The government might suck, but our communities don't have to.

Humans have the capacity to save lives and feed children and house the unhoused and take care of each other. We just have to wake up everyday and choose hope.

Sources: https://www.unaids.org/en/resources/fact-sheet