OP-ED – A Letter to Julie McKnight: On Legacy, Love, and the Fight Against HIV

On October 6th, we experienced your transition to another plane of existence.

Since that day, I have felt some regret that I didn’t take advantage of the opportunities I had to get to know you better. However, I have come to realize that I learned so much from you and about you in the time we spent together and from the stories shared by my colleagues at THP (Triad Health Project) as well as the community members you impacted.

When I started work at THP in Greensboro, North Carolina, I was a little anxious. I felt a bit out of place and was so focused on making a good impression that I was stressed I would make a mistake. The first moment we interacted and remember the sense of calm that you provided me. You asked me to take a look at some forms to translate into Spanish; it was something I was very comfortable doing and it felt like accepting the outstretched hand of a kind stranger after tripping in public.

In that moment, I realized you were an ally for language justice, an important cause for the Latino population in the United States.

Some time later, I remember you asked me if I could spend some of my time working in Triad Health Project’s High Point office. You shared some opportunities with me to connect with other Latinos by collaborating with local organizations that also serve the Latino community.

You pushed me to get more involved in outreach work and explore resources for the Spanish-speaking population in the area.

Every single time you shared these opportunities, I knew you cared. I knew you were someone who offered these suggestions as a way to help the Latino community in a time of great need and peril. I knew that you were sincere in your allyship.

You cared about others, and the legacy of your work speaks volumes. You helped build frameworks at THP that we still use today. You organized clear protocols for client treatment and referrals. Your remarkable work and the spirit behind it make it feel like you’re still here with us. Like you are still here offering little suggestions, still here helping us along the way.

And for that I want to say:

¨Thank you, Julie. Thank you for your 14 years of work at THP. Thank you for always having a smile, no matter what. Thank you for your unconditional support for ending the HIV epidemic and for your commitment to social justice.”

You remind me of the many women who were on the frontlines when the HIV crisis started, showing compassion, grace, and humanity in very difficult and tragic times. The women who were there taking care of those who were rejected. Like now, the government did not protect and support its people. The vulnerable were abandoned or alienated by communities and friends due to misunderstanding and fear.

Now, over 40 years later, we still have women like that. We still have women like you, offering that same compassion and humanity.

That kind of support is urgently needed now just as it was then. We need more people who show compassion and humanity to defend their families, friends, and neighbors.

We need people willing to use their privilege and security to speak out for justice. We need to remember that this nation is a community that helps pick each other up, not one that punches down. That’s something I learned and appreciated through you, Julie. Despite the uncertain climate we find ourselves in, you always made me feel safe.

Not having you around feels weird. I still find your name written in places at work, and your office is still sits untouched. It’s as if this space has paused in time. That this little place was as surprised as I was with how fast everything happened.

As humans, we need to understand that our impact lives longer than we do. Our existence continues through shared memories with others. At Triad Health Project we bear witness to your endless dedication and will cherish the memory of you in life.

We will continue the work you passed on to us. We will care for others and empower each other at THP. The torch will shine brightly, and its warmth will remind us of your gentle and relentless support.

PS. I will take care of the plant you gave me from your office. I feel proud that you entrusted me to care for such a delicate thing. I hope you are finally taking a break, although I suspect that even now you haven´t stopped working.

Abrazos!