"In my book, getting guys together for softball, movies, or boardgames is HIV prevention"

Our friend Trevor Hoppe weighs in on social marketing for gay men.

Social marketing has long been a controversial topic in San Francisco, the country's "ground zero" for testing out new HIV prevention strategies and tools. Unfortunately, complicated conversations about the role it plays our lives as gay men rarely happen -- most LGBT organizations here have already made up their mind about its role in our community.

I was thrilled to receive an invitation several weeks ago to sit on a panel of speakers, all asked to engage critically with social marketing and its relationship to queer health. "Bus Stops, Billboards, & You: Campaigning for Queer Health" took place last Thursday, but was unfortunately not covered by San Francisco's local LGBT newspaper. I wrote in with the following letter to help spread the word, but they didn't publish it (was I too sassy in the opening?). But you can read it below - enjoy!

To The Editor:

I’m happy to report that last Thursday’s community forum at the LGBT Center, “Bus Stops, Billboards, & You: Campaigning for Queer Health,” was a resounding success. While Bay Area Reporter staff did not attend, their absence did not prevent a thoughtful discussion exploring the past, present, and future of social marketing as a tool for promoting queer health.

Many challenges remain for community leaders and public health officials who turn to billboards in their quest to promote healthy behavior. As several panelists at the forum noted (including myself), there is a history of these ads being received as promoting more than just positive change, but also prejudice and hostility. While their defenders assert that these campaigns were designed with the help of the populations they intended to represent (whether it be HIV-positive men or young black men), this does not seem to preclude their potential promote racism, homophobia, or pozphobia.

Further, as a panelist I encouraged attendees to resist relying on formal organizations to “do the work” of community building and HIV prevention. I noted that anyone in the community who feels left out or isolated at community events or even at the bars should take matters into their own hands. Whatever it is that you enjoy doing – going to movies, playing “Dungeons and Dragons,” or playing Canasta – whatever it is, there are at least a dozen other folks in this town who’d be happy to join you. This should be the kind of health promotion that is most encouraged; the kind that never involves a billboard or the words “HIV” or “meth.” In my book, getting guys together for softball, movies, or boardgames is HIV prevention.

As we move forward, let’s hope that public health officials resist pointing fingers at us and telling us how naughty we’ve been this past year. And let’s hope that they realize that spending 100s of thousands of dollars on billboards cannot produce substantial change in our communities. The real change happens when we come together – as a community – and support each other as friends, lovers, and perhaps even as D&D-loving, Canasta-philes. I meet far too many gay men in San Francisco who feel terribly isolated. This, to me, is the greatest challenge we face for the future. With a creative mind, we can all do our part to help.

Trevor Hoppe
Graduate Student
University of Michigan