What Black social workers must say and do about HIV

I work every day to invest in the next generation of public health professionals who are addressing stigmatized conditions like HIV through direct service, capacity building and community-rooted special projects. Many of these rising leaders are trying to bring attention to places that have long been deprived of the resources, leadership and strategies needed to support healing and growth from within. That work has convinced me of one thing: if we are serious about ending the HIV epidemic in Black communities, we cannot keep repeating the same strategies and expecting different outcomes.

During a recent presentation by Dr. Virginia A. Caine on Women & Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day 2026, I was struck by updated data and trends showing that HIV continues to affect Black communities in ways that do not align with our national promise to end the epidemic. The trends are concerning locally and nationally, but concern alone is not a strategy. The solution requires us to take a new look at an old problem. We must be willing to shift, to partner differently, and to invest in people in ways that move beyond slogans about innovation and into real change.

One of the most important things Black social workers must understand is that HIV has too often been framed as somebody else’s issue. In the early years of the epidemic, Black communities were frequently left out of public messaging, and that silence had consequences. It fed misinformation, stigma and the dangerous belief that basic prevention education was not meant for us. Even now, many HIV conversations remain confined to LGBTQ+ spaces, while the data make clear that the impact on Black communities deserves attention. We do not need a national platform or a massive grant to begin changing that reality. In our everyday conversations, in our agencies, in our churches, in our classrooms and in our neighborhoods, we have the power to challenge misinformation, promote prevention and reinforce healthy choices while examining our own biases.

We also have a responsibility to communicate clearly about what is true. There have been incredible advancements in HIV treatment and care, but there is still no cure. What we do know is powerful: people who begin treatment early and remain adherent can achieve an undetectable viral load, which means they do not sexually transmit HIV, an evidence-based concept known as U=U, or Undetectable = Untransmittable. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and HIV.gov both affirm this science.

We must be just as clear about prevention. PrEP, or pre-exposure prophylaxis, is highly effective at preventing HIV, yet it is still too often discussed as if it were only for gay men. Women can also be strong candidates for PrEP, and current CDC guidance emphasizes that PrEP is for people without HIV who may be exposed through sex or injection drug use. The CDC also states that any licensed prescriber can prescribe PrEP and recommends informing all sexually active adult and adolescent patients about it. Access begins with awareness, and awareness begins with us.

If we want different outcomes, we must invest in people who need a second chance, support partnerships that would not otherwise happen and make room for people with lived experience to move beyond being treated as informants and into positions of planning and leadership. For people in Indianapolis, BU Wellness Network is a local organization making a difference through culturally relevant HIV prevention and support services, and offers free testing, PrEP navigation, and case management. This is what meaningful response looks like: trusted local leadership, clear information and a commitment to equity. Black social workers have an essential role to play in that response not someday, but now.

Republished with permission from the Central Indiana Association of Black Social Workers, where it first appeared in the June 2026 issue of the association’s newsletter.