We're telling the stories of the people and places that will be profoundly affected by the "Ending the HIV Epidemic" plan as it unfolds, and seeking to answer the question: Can this plan truly end HIV transmission in the U.S.?
"Yes, the numbers are going down, but don't get too excited."
In a sign of growing frustration with the rollout of the federal Ending the HIV Epidemic plan, dozens of activists stormed the U.S. Conference on AIDS (USCA) opening plenary session on Sept. 5.
In a gentrifying city in the shadow of wealthy San Francisco, HIV service providers think of everything -- housing, food assistance, a spiritual community, and electrolysis -- they need to meet people's needs.
Advocates across the South are coming together to fight disparities that leave many southerners vulnerable to HIV.
It may be suburbia, but Prince George's County HIV service providers are hard at work fighting poverty-related health risks and expanding sexual health education.
Fear of retaliation from Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is complicating the already-tricky business of HIV prevention in Arizona's Maricopa county, the fastest-growing county in America.
Poverty, stigma and racial health disparities drive HIV rates that are among the nation's highest. But expanded Medicaid and PrEP access seem to have contributed to a recent drop in new cases.
Timothy Hinkhouse, an incarcerated HIV-positive AIDS activist, argues that more resources should go toward finding a cure.
"We still have people here who think you can get HIV from a toilet seat, and families who make HIV-positive members eat on the porch on Thanksgiving. They've heard that you can't get HIV that way, but for some reason they don't believe it."
In conservative Central Indiana, this LGBTQ-run agency transcended its repressive origins and helps people with HIV who are discriminated against at other local institutions.