How the Music of Black Women Artists Shaped My HIV Activism

“Neneh Cherry know the story, so it must be told
About a group of people left out in the cold
Caught by a plague, slowly they fade
From an immune deficiency, you see, called AIDS”

— Neneh Cherry's "I've Got You Under My Skin"

World AIDS Day occurs annually on December 1. It is a worldwide opportunity to unite all of us in the fight to end the epidemic, honor those we've lost, and show support for people living with HIV. For me, this day represents a time for reflection and action. This year I'm reflecting on how much the music of my childhood continues to impact me.

I don't remember when music wasn't a part of my daily existence. I was fixated on my television when MTV launched in 1981. I could finally see visuals of the music I was hearing, which was mesmerizing.

Black women singers were my music taste of choice back then—Diana Ross being the apex of that love. "Why Do Fools Fall In Love," the 1981 album by Ms. Ross, became the first record I actively pursued owning. I dug all of the divas, Aretha, Chaka, Dionne, and Evelyn. Their voices were essential to my development. 

1981 also marked the year that AIDS entered our collective consciousness. The music became a backdrop to the movement, although I didn't notice it until years later.

As a third grader in 1985, I learned that HIV existed and people were sick and dying, which didn't sit well with me.

I didn't realize that I was about to be made into an HIV activist, and my one true love—music—was about to be the path that would usher in this defining era in my life. The divas had the most significant impact on me.

Here are the four songs that helped shape my HIV activism.

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1. "That's What Friends Are For" (1985)

By 1985, HIV covered newspapers worldwide, so it should be no surprise that my then-eight-year-old self would've heard the news. In that year alone, actor Rock Hudson died from HIV-related complications. Ryan White acquired HIV from a blood transfusion. “The Normal Heart” premiered off-Broadway, and "That's What Friends Are For" was released as a single in October.

Dionne Warwick released her 25th album, "Finder of Lost Loves," in January 1985. "Finder" was a bit of a return to form for Warwick, who collaborated with Burt Bacharach—the genius behind her most memorable hits—for the first time in a decade.

“We lost so many people, especially within our industry, hairdressers, makeup people, cameramen, lighting people, so many in the areas that revolved around my profession. I will continue to do my part as long as it's around.”

- Dionne Warwick, People Magazine, 2019

Bacharach and Carole Bayer Sager wrote "That's What Friends Are For," and Dionne Warwick recorded a cover version of the song with Elton John, Stevie Wonder, and the legendary diva Gladys Knight. As the story goes, Elizabeth Taylor thought the song would be good to release to raise money for amFAR, and Warwick recruited friends to join her in the studio to make it happen. 

"That's What Friends Are For" became the biggest single of 1986 and raised an estimated $3 Million for amFAR. 

Through this, I learned that art could be a tool to make long-lasting change. 

2. "I've Got You Under My Skin" (1990)

"In 1990, 43,339 AIDS cases (17.2 per 100,000 population) were reported, accounting for more than one-fourth (161,073) of all cases reported during 1981--1990. Homosexual/bisexual men and IV-drug users represented more than three-fourths of reported cases."

- CDC, MMWR, June 7, 1991

In 1988, Neneh Cherry solidified herself as the coolest woman of the golden era of hip-hop. Cherry did something unique with the release of her debut single, "Buffalo Stance." The song, which sat neatly in the hip-hop canon, also fit well in the pop canon. Cherry rapped the verses and sang the hook, which seems natural today, but in 1988, it was rare.

I don't remember the first time I laid eyes on the video for her 1990 single "I’ve Got You Under My Skin," but I'll never forget the feeling. The song was included on the first Red Hot compilation, “Red Hot + Blue,” to raise money for HIV.

"People have talked about safe sex. It's like, you know, does that mean that we can't have any sex? You know, it's like the no-sex syndrome. God, how boring. I don't want to think about this. Sharing love, being hopeful, being passionate is, you know, the thing that's really gonna get us through."

- Neneh Cherry, 1990

I don't know if I understood sexuality then, but it was a sexy video with a message. Black background with royal blue lighting, and a well-lit Cherry with the words appearing on the screen, so you couldn't mistake what she was rapping. "I've Got You Under My Skin" was effective and affectionate. 

In my community, both crack and HIV had a stronghold on us. I'd watched people I'd known my entire life succumb to the weight of the moment. 

I wanted to do something. I wanted to create art like Cherry - deep, bold, and Black art. As she sang, "I've got you…under my skin…," I had her under mine.

3. "Let's Talk About Sex"/"Let's Talk About AIDS" (1991)

By the fall of 1991, I was entering high school, and the summer before, Salt-N-Pepa were still promoting their album "Blacks' Magic." The album, released a year prior, was churning out singles. The rap trio's decision to release "Let's Talk About Sex" was a bold move in the conservative political climate of 1991. 

"At the time, it felt like a sense of obligation. We'd seen our audience, how much it grew. Then we started seeing children in our audience. Using our platform and having a voice, it was a great feeling to be part, and that's what Peter Jennings did."

- Pepa, for Yahoo Music, 2021

Salt-N-Pepa went a step further with the single. ABC was working on a special town hall, “Growing Up in the Age of AIDS: An ABC News Town Meeting for the Family.” Peter Jennings was the host, and Salt-N-Pepa was charged with turning "Let's Talk About Sex" into a PSA. That PSA, "Let's Talk About AIDS," became an informative hip-hop song about a disease that still fueled questions and misinformation.

Salt-N-Pepa taught me that I could teach and have fun simultaneously. The lesson was that HIV wasn't something to fear as long as I was knowledgeable about transmission. 

4. "Together Again" (1997)

I graduated from high school in 1995, and by 1996 I began working in the music industry. I was a technician in a local music studio. That same year I also started volunteering at a local non-profit in my hometown, Chester AIDS Coalition.

 My first role was to ride around with one of the staff members and hand out condom packets in the local community—very no frills. We'd pull up, get out, grab a bag, and begin handing out packets to whoever came up to us. Surprisingly, there'd be a crowd. I remember multiple times engaging with people who I knew from school.

I learned one of my most valuable lessons: sometimes, it only takes a smile and friendliness to make a difference in someone's life.

"​​Everywhere I go, every smile I see

I know you are there smilin' back at me

Dancin' in moonlight, I know you are free

'Cause I can see your star shinin' down on me"

- Janet Jackson's "Together Again"

By 1997, Janet Jackson was preparing to release “The Velvet Rope.” There was a lot of build-up, and we knew she'd tackle different subjects on her latest project.

"Together Again" was written by Jackson, ex-husband René Elizondo Jr., and long-time collaborators Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis. The song was written for friends of Jackson's who'd passed away from HIV-related complications. 

Jackson, like Warwick, donated proceeds from the sale of the single to amFAR.

"Together Again" taught me that I could dance, and I could still affect change in the world.

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Since 1997, few songs have been written about HIV, but HIV is still a part of our community and collective consciousness. Through these songs, I learned valuable lessons about myself and the possibilities of music to teach and say the things that often go unsaid.

I am not the only HIV activist who's been influenced by music. There are many of us, many even made by the same songs that I've mentioned. My hope is for future activists. What music will they look to that sparks their curiosity and teaches them about HIV? 

More than a backdrop to the epidemic, the music of Black women served as a respite during a dark and challenging time. I don't know where I'd be without them.