On a beautiful tropical day, two women living thousands of miles apart
enter public clinics. One walks past the neatly parked cars in the parking
lot, to the front door of the newly built, well-equipped Ladymeade
Reference Unit, which stands across from the largest public medical
facility on the island of Barbados. Everything about this experience is
neat and well-ordered, from the facilities the woman is entering, to the
pill boxes bearing brand-name labels that she receives at the in-house
pharmacy, to the referral system that sent her here after she delivered a
baby across the street. The second woman's experience appears a bit
less ordered. The clinic she enters, which sits on the outskirts of one of
Brazil's slum-ridden cities, is shabby, with peeling paint and a
utilitarian concrete structure. Inside, there are no shiny,
manufacturer-sponsored posters to match the pills being dispensed, because
these pills do not bear familiar brand-name labels. Though the pictures
may appear quite different, they bear a crucial similarity—both
women are living with HIV, and both are fortunate to live in countries
that have committed themselves to providing universal treatment access for
their HIV-positive citizens.Patricia Siplon
is Associate Professor of Political Science at Saint Michael's
College in Vermont (psiplon@smcvt.edu). Jamila Headley is a student
activist and member of the Student Global AIDS Campaign. She received her
BA in political science from Saint Michael's College in 2006
(jheadley@smcvt.edu). Both authors would like to thank the Provost's
Office at Saint Michael's College for funding and support of this
research.