by Lucas Rocha
Writing this book was a process that demanded great effort, because while I wanted to write a story that could be important for other people, I also needed to confront my own understanding of what it’s like to be an HIV-positive person in the twenty-first century. I was twenty-three years old, working eight hours a day, and finishing my master’s thesis. It wasn’t a particularly tranquil time in my life.
So I started researching: How is HIV treatment offered by the Sistema Único de Saúde (Single Health System) in Brazil? What are the psychological and social implications affecting HIV-positive people? In addition to educating myself about these facts, I also sought the advice of doctors and patients at treatment centers that I visited. After everything I read and heard, I decided to turn what I learned into a fictional story that is linear and coherent, and the best way I found to do that was to create three characters who deal with HIV in distinct ways.
Ian, Victor, and Henrique are at different stages of life when the story begins, and these three points of view were vital in bringing attention to the nuances of HIV and the idea that life can continue to be wonderful with or without it. My intention was always to make sure the story was good-humored and could convey a welcoming message, even if the characters weren’t always at their best. So I made a point of creating a world very similar to my own, where we count on our families, whether they are families by blood or ones we chose.
The characters’ journeys to acceptance and self-acceptance needed to culminate in a message that would bring hope to the reader. For this reason, I chose to end the story with a song by Cazuza. Perhaps you’re not familiar with him, but during the 1980s, Cazuza was an important singer in the Brazilian music scene; today, everyone in my country knows at least one of his songs. He was also openly bisexual and one of the first Brazilian public figures to discuss his HIV-positive status during the AIDS crisis. From one of his last and most powerful presentations came the song “O Tempo Não Para” (“Time Doesn’t Stop”)—referenced at the end of this novel—where the singer, already debilitated by the advancement of the disease, sings about how one must continue to move forward, knowing that life must be lived to its fullest, because life is cruel and doesn’t stop for even one second.
This song is of great importance not just to me but to the larger context of discussions surrounding HIV and AIDS in Brazil, and I knew it would fit in perfectly at the end of this story. The edition you hold in your hands has been translated for an audience that likely doesn’t know who Cazuza was, and perhaps the song doesn’t carry as much weight for that reason, but know that it is important and even today resonates as one of the greatest songs by an artist who shined a light on the topic of HIV at a time when not speaking about the problem was the easiest way to deal with it.
And therein lie the goals of this book: It seeks to discuss a topic that is still conditioned by silence; to question prejudices that surround us; to help us reflect on the motives that lead us to have them; and, above all, to promote empathy and demonstrate that life is beautiful, just like a wall covered in colorful paint.
Lucas Rocha
May 2019
In 1981, a strange health affliction began affecting gay men in the United States’ largest cities, including Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York. Many people were dying quickly, and no one knew why. When scientists first discovered it was a disease that could destroy the body’s immune system, there was nothing they could do about it. There were no medications, no one knew how to prevent it, and it was spreading throughout the world. The following year, in 1982, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) gave this affliction a name—acquired immune deficiency syndrome (AIDS)—but it took until 1984 for researchers to discover the virus that causes AIDS. That virus would officially be called human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) in 1986, and it has been known as that ever since.
As researchers learned more about HIV and AIDS, new medications were developed to treat HIV-positive people. By the mid-1990s, an “AIDS cocktail” was made available, which dramatically extended the life expectancy of people living with HIV. Since then, medications have continued to improve, and today HIV-positive people who follow proper treatment can live long and healthy lives with as little as one pill a day. Moreover, we know that HIV-positive people who follow treatment and have achieved an undetectable viral load cannot transmit the virus to others, otherwise known as undetectable = untransmittable, or U = U.
Additionally, detection methods have greatly improved over the years. In many places in the United States, people can walk into medical facilities and get screened for HIV in just a few minutes, receiving same-day results. There are also new medications, like pre- and post-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP and PEP, respectively), that can be taken by HIV-negative people to prevent them from contracting HIV, in addition to condom use. Getting tested regularly and, if diagnosed with HIV, beginning treatment as soon as possible are currently the best ways to prevent transmission and improve population health.
But while researchers have made great strides in detecting and treating HIV since the 1980s, access to testing and treatment varies worldwide. In Where We Go from Here, we meet three young men in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, whose lives are affected by HIV to varying extents. And while the experiences of Ian, Victor, and Henrique provide a glimpse of what it might be like to live with HIV in Brazil today, it is important to understand that HIV treatment in Brazil differs in some ways from treatment in the United States.
In Brazil, HIV treatment is fully funded through the nation’s Sistema Único de Saúde (Single Health System), whereas, as of December 2019, HIV treatment in the United States is generally not covered free of charge by the government. However, there are a number of resources, both federal and nonfederal, that are available in the US if you find yourself diagnosed with HIV, including private insurance, Medicare and Medicaid, the Ryan White HIV/AIDS Program, the Health Center Program, and more. Eligibility for assistance programs can vary by personal circumstance and location. If you are in the US and looking for testing locations near you, have a question about HIV and AIDS, or have recently been diagnosed with HIV and do not know where to turn, the best thing to do is to contact your state’s HIV/AIDS hotline or the CDC at 1-800-CDC-INFO (1-800-232-4636). Whatever your circumstance may be, know that there are resources out there for you.
Some resources*:
HIV/AIDS hotlines by state: hab.hrsa.gov/get-care/state-hivaids-hotlines
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: cdc.gov/hiv
AIDS Healthcare Foundation: aidshealth.org
Advocates for Youth: advocatesforyouth.org/issue/hiv
US Department of Health & Human Services: hhs.gov and hiv.gov
*The information presented here is current as of December 2019 but may be subject to change.
Writing a book might be a solitary task, but after it’s finished comes a list of incredible people. And there have been plenty of those over the months in which Where We Go from Here was read, reread, revised, cut, and polished to arrive in your hands in its current form.
This is the moment to remember each person who has been with me along this small journey.
First of all, my three pillars: Suely, Rodolfo, and Diego (aka my mom, dad, and brother, respectively). You are the best family a person could ask for, and I feel profoundly lucky to have you by my side. Thank you for all the support and for always being present in my life. I love you all.
To my agent, Gui Liaga, from Página 7 Agency, who gave me all the support I needed to turn this book into a reality. Without her, you would probably have nothing but promises of a story that would never have been finished. Thank you for adding so much to this plot and for getting it out of my drawer. You’re an amazing woman!
A special thanks to Galera Record and to my editor, Ana Lima, as well as the whole team who made this book even better. I am so lucky that I got to publish my first story with a publishing house I admire so much and that makes a difference in so many people’
s lives. Definitely the best choice I could’ve made.
To my little group of writers, proofreaders, agents, and people involved in this delightful world of books: Bárbara Morais, Taissa Reis, Dayse Dantas, Fernanda Nia, Babi Dewet, Felipe Castilho, Valéria Alves, Pam Gonçalves, Vitor Martins, and Vitor Castrillo. You are my daily support for venting, complaining, and celebrating, and my life wouldn’t be as wonderful if you weren’t in it.
To the people in the US who have turned this book into a reality for North American readers: First of all, to David Levithan, the person responsible for carrying the Brazilian edition across a hemisphere and bringing it to Scholastic; to my US editor, Orlando Dos Reis, for championing this story, and for his advice on what would sound better in this version; to Larissa Helena, my English translator, for understanding my dorky jokes and making them as funny (or as unfunny) as they are in Brazilian Portuguese; to Josh Berlowitz, Kerianne Steinberg, and all the Scholastic team who worked so hard and were so energetic about this book from the start. You are amazing!
To the friends who inspire me every single day and who helped me, directly or indirectly, while I wrote this story: Thales Souza, Lucas Figueiredo, Marcelle Almeida, Mariana Saadi, and Ariadne Pacheco, for following the same academic path as me and for hearing about this story on Thursdays; Luiza Nunes, the first to hear about the outlines for this idea, on a stone bench at Fiocruz, for being excited about something still so loose; Jéssyca Santiago and Mariana Moraes, who were perhaps more excited about the release of this book than anyone else; Fábio Laranjeira and Jean Amaral, two essential people whom I am fortunate to call my friends; and finally, Ana Cristina Rodrigues—not a day goes by when I don’t feel thankful that you came into my life. If it weren’t for you, I’d hardly be the writer I am today—I’d hardly be a writer, to be completely honest.
To everyone who was willing to talk to me and teach me so much when I went to the clinics during the first drafts of this book: not just the doctors, who helped me with the more technical parts of this book (thank you, Dr. Ana and Dr. Marcelo!), but especially to the patients receiving treatment and the people waiting for their test results in the rapid testing line. I remember some of your names, and others are just images in my mind, but know that, without you, this book wouldn’t have come to life. Thank you for the support, for the smiles, and the will to keep living that each of you displayed. If inspiration could take a form, I’d want it to be the expressions I saw on the faces of every person when they told me life must be lived to the fullest.
And, finally, to the most important person in this entire process: you, the reader. I hope Ian’s, Victor’s, and Henrique’s lives might make some kind of difference, that you may have learned something new, or at least smiled and understood that as hard as the journey can seem at first, at some point, it becomes peaceful and full of amazing moments. And we have our whole lives ahead of us!
Lucas Rocha is a librarian from Rio de Janeiro but lives in São Paulo. He splits his time between writing and working at a public library, where he works with children, teens, and adults of all different backgrounds. Where We Go from Here, an LGBTQ+ novel about the importance of friendship and found families, is his first novel.
Originally published in Brazilian Portuguese in 2018 as Você Tem a Vida Inteira by Galera Record.
Text copyright © 2018 by Lucas Rocha
English translation copyright © 2020 by Larissa Helena
Illustrations copyright © 2020 by Marina Esmeraldo
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, June 2020
Jacket art © 2020 by Marina Esmeraldo
Jacket design by Baily Crawford
e-ISBN 978-1-338-63375-7
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