How HIV Prevention Program ‘The Drop’ Was Failed by the Government
Intersectionality, accessibility, and squashing the sexist, patriarchal norms through queer…
After almost three years in operation, The Drop had grown to be more than an HIV testing site; it had become a vital space for the queer community. Originating as a crucial and pivotal step for many to navigate through PrEP and PEP treatments, it grew into a thriving space that offered a variety of educational resources and a community center for a range of programs that addressed many gaps in LGBTQ health and wellness care.
Housed in the back of Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains’ (PPRM) 14th Street location, they had a strong commitment to serving LGBTQ folks both in-house as well as approaching the community in spaces like queer bars, live music concerts, and health resource fairs. The dedicated staff served almost 1,000 people at the drop-in facility in 2019 alone; it was no doubt The Drop was here for the LGBTQ community.
However, in March of 2020, The Drop was dropped from PPRM programming and officially closed their doors forever. How could such a necessary project be shut down with little to no warning? The reason is complex, yet very simple: they had lost their federal funding.
Related article: The Drop Reimagines HIV Care in the Mile High City
The Drop was underwritten by a grant from the Colorado Department of Health and Environment (CDPHE) through the HIV division that was overseen and funneled from the Center for Disease Control (CDC). While PPRM does receive individual donations which cover some of their programming costs, the CDC grant delivered $204,000 of the annual budget of $250,000 to fund The Drop.
Discovering in November of 2019 the grant would be reduced to $45,000 for the 2020 fiscal year, PPRM deemed that would be too huge of a hit to the HIV/AIDS prevention program and would ultimately mean that the facility would have to close.
“As soon as we found out that there was going to be that dramatic of a cut, which was in and of itself completely devastating, we went into overdrive to try to get that funded to recoup some of those dollars,” said PPRM Chief Experience Officer Adrienne Mansanares.
She explained that there was some hope from CDPHE that they would be able to find some gap or bridge funding, and the community banded together to put pressure on the government to keep the program afloat, but there simply was not enough time, and they were forced into the tough decision of letting The Drop go.
“We are part of what’s called The Alliance. The HIV community in Denver and across Colorado is, like, decades old; I mean, it comes from the AIDS epidemic coming together in the 80s. They were really putting pressure, and some community outrage, on the government to try to find more funding, and CDPHE did its darnedest, but we learned [eventually] that there would be no bridge funding,” Mansanares said.
So, what was the reason for the dramatic federal funding cut to such vital community resources like HIV prevention? Mansanares said there was no explanation, and that is the toughest thing to wrap their heads around.
“That’s part of the issue, I think, is to try to understand from the federal government funding stream, why this particular grant? In a time where we need more healthcare, any cut to healthcare is so devastating, and in particular for populations that are already facing so many barriers and challenges; it’s just disproportionately tragic,” she said.
The Drop was formed from the model of a very successful Planned Parenthood program in Albuquerque, New Mexico established 35 years ago. The program hires folks from within the community to stand as PPRM representatives. From entertainers who perform in drag shows to socializing in swim clubs and bars, these are trusted, queer members of the community who can educate folks about HIV prevention measure such as safe sex, PrEP, and PEP.
The only difference between the successful and long-term running model in Albuquerque and the revised Denver edition was where the funding channeled from. Nevada specifically allocates money from the state level for these programs, whereas Colorado’s HIV prevention assistance dollars are federally funded.
Other programs in Denver, such as The Empowerment Program, whose HIV prevention program mostly works with women in situations who are at a greater risk of contracting the disease, are also anticipating major federal funding cuts.
“HIV prevention, care, and treatment is a huge part of what we do at Empowerment, so we definitely rely on that (funding) pretty heavily, ” said Executive Director Julie Kiehl. “We don’t know for sure about cuts yet, but where we’re most likely to see cuts is with the prevention side of things.”
The Empowerment Program opened its doors in 1986 in response to a growing number of homeless women, women living in poverty, sex workers, and women involved in the criminal justice system. Due to significant barriers to self-sufficiency due to involvement in the criminal justice system, many of the women are homeless, living with HIV/AIDS, or at high risk of infection. Through street and community outreach programs and activities, Empowerment is able reach these vulnerable populations and has decreased the number of women living in poverty.
Kiehl explained that one area the Empowerment Program was making good traction in as of late was with those “hard-to-find, HIV-positive cases” in the community; folks who are unaware they have contracted the virus and may be unknowingly spreading it. Targeting prevention is a large part of the Empowerment mission, and yet that is the first place that will be negatively impacted if the money doesn’t come in.
Some believe this to be a trickle-down effect from the Trump Administration. Cuts weren’t immediately implemented upon Trump’s entrance into office; however, now the communities who were underserved to begin with are finding themselves with even fewer resources.
“We have a big CDC grant. It was a five-year grant, and we were in the final year, so typically, at a certain point, you get an application to continue that grant. Well, it wasn’t coming out, and then I heard on the radio coming to work one morning that Trump was proposing to cut, like, millions and millions from CDC,” Kiehl explained.
She went on, “We’ve heard from some other grantors that they’re being audited a lot more harshly, so because they’re being audited much more harshly they’re coming down on us. God forbid, if things remain that way, then it could get really ugly.”
Not only do programs like Empowerment Program and The Drop provide essential services, they also employ many people who are not only passionate about the work but who are also within those underserved communities. The Drop specifically was run by three people of color from Denver who are members LGBTQ community. The closure of The Drop was a double-hit for all of those employed, as several of those individuals also lost other sources of income with the COVID-19 stay-at-home orders.
Theriale, who is also known in the community as drag performer Felony Misdemeanor, lost both sources of income so fast they could have developed whiplash. Not only did all the bars and clubs that Theriale performed in close seemingly overnight, The Drop had to close up more than 10 days earlier due to the coronavirus social distancing mandate.
Related article: Can Queer Spaces Survive the Coronavirus? An Industry, Dismantled
In a candid interview shortly after The Drop announced their closure, Theriale was undoubtedly upset, but also very clear as what they believed the reason was behind the queer community space closing. Theriale believed that The Drop ultimately was screwed over because CDPHE mishandled the funds in which were allocated specifically to the community center.
“CDPHE, they’re terrible,” Theriale proclaimed. “They just messed up everything.”
Thera Marshall, Program Manager of The Drop, reiterated that the issue lay within CDPE mishandling of the grant funds that covered the costs of HIV community outreach services.
“We were scrambling, trying to find extra funding to bridge the gap. We were promised bridge funding up until June of this year; that was not the truth; that fell through. So, they were trying to find funding, but in the process, their mismanagement of funds put 12 different organizations and nonprofits that do the same work that we do, in different capacities, on the chopping block,” Marshall expounded.
Going on to say that the problem with CDPHE compounded within the Planned Parenthood organization because of the Trump administration’s attack on reproductive rights and abortion accessibility. Marshall said that with so many of PPRM’s finances being wrapped up in the legal system and covering the costs of lawsuits, that leaves little wiggle room for things like dramatic cuts in grant funding.
The consistent theme in conversations across the board was the extreme sadness each felt due to the closing of The Drop. Mansanares said that if they were able to find the funding again, The Drop would re-open its doors immediately. Marshall knows that this work is their life mission, and if it can’t be executed through PPRM, they will find other means and ways of doing it. And Theriale still wants to pursue a career in resource outreach, sexual health education, and HIV prevention.
“Just knowing that we were there for the community that they needed us and they were there supporting us, it was just as a symbiotic relationship with The Drop, how fast we came up. We came out of nowhere, and to make such an impact like we did in the almost three years that we did,” Theriale reflected.
Marshall concluded, “I think we put in tons of hours, tons of love, tons of heartache, tons of energy, into something that I’m still very proud of, and it ain’t over. That’s the good thing about it; this is just a bump in the road for myself. The Drop is something that’s in my heart; it’s just not a building in a space, so I’m going to look at other avenues of how to continue the work.”
Photos by Veronica L. Holyfield
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