Praying that night after a rough day in class I remembered a man named Joseph. Joseph’s a late 40-something who stood in front of an audience of about 30 people to share stories of his life. He recounted friends and strangers he’d met, the joys of being in particular places with certain people, and he regularly referred to the bar he frequented. As he spoke I recognized similarities in his life compared to my own. Even the seemingly insignificant occurrences of his daily activities were analogous. Like his uneasiness with visiting the doctor. And his curiosity about the purpose of outdated magazines in the waiting room. Then Joseph revealed one thing I could not identify with: he’d tested positive for HIV. And he wasn’t sure how to handle the news.