VIDEO: BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2022, opening ceremony remarks





BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2022 took place yesterday, and I was reminded again of all the reasons it’s always one of my favorite weekends of the year. I had the privilege of being asked to give some brief remarks at the opening ceremony kicking off the ride . My dear ride husband and fellow rider Clay Williams recorded and shared it via Facebook live (thank you, Clay), so I’m able to share it here. Below the video is a written transcript of the full speech.


Good morning,

The first person I knew who had AIDS was my mom’s childhood friend Dennis. Dennis, like my mom, came from an immigrant family, and was like an uncle to me. When he and my mom got together, the air thrummed with laughter and loud yakking in Romanian.

Those gatherings were infrequent because Dennis’ job as a journalist had him jumping from one global political hotspot to the next. But then he’d breeze into town and spark a jam session of multiple languages, dancing, eating, drinking. His laugh was a high-pitched cackle, one that would turn your head to see who had made that sound.

He confided to my mom that he was bisexual, but she believed he was gay. Regardless, his sexuality was a secret. And then, in early 1987 Dennis got sick and he stopped globetrotting. He died in December, and his NY Times obituary led with a common lie: “Dennis A. Volman, a reporter for The Christian Science Monitor, died of cancer Monday at the Mount Sinai Medical Center. He was 37 years old and lived in Washington.”

Dennis died a horrific death of physical agony from AIDS. If he had a partner, he took that secret with him. Only Dennis knew how much his soul suffered from shame and fear. I can only imagine it made a difficult dying process far lonelier.

This next bit I’ve never shared publicly. In 2012, I launched a blog about the ride, and I wrote an entry about Dennis. The blog’s main audience is my network, so imagine my surprise in 2013 to get emails from two strangers. One was a former girlfriend of Dennis’ who found the blog through a google search; she shared the post with the other stranger, an old friend of Dennis’s mom. They each emailed me to debate the historical record: Dennis had died of pneumonia while battling cancer. And why did I think Dennis was gay? The family friend was especially insistent it couldn’t have been homosexuality or AIDS. She cited his affairs with women, his poor health in childhood, his chronic pain from a back injury. From these women, I learned that Dennis had kept his illness secret, too. Only his nearest and dearest heard he was sick with “cancer” shortly before he died.

Our email exchanges ended quickly in a stalemate, but they unnerved me enough to ask my mom how she knew Dennis had AIDS. Apparently, she saw he had KS lesions when she visited him in the hospital.

I don’t judge Dennis for keeping secrets. Homophobia and AIDS stigma were prevalent enough that those choices may have protected him, whatever emotional price he paid. But by 2013, he’d been dead for over 25 years. His parents were dead. He had no children. No siblings. How had stigma, fear, and homophobia re-emerged, overshadowing sense and reason, when those lies protected no one anymore?

So why share this fucking heartbreaker of a story?

Because the shadow side of people’s humanity isn’t the only story. That is never the only story. Seeds of social justice were being planted even then. While Dennis was dying in March 1987, the first meeting of ACT UP was held in the West Village. Three years later, Housing Works was founded out of ACT UP’s housing committee. Both organizations demanded action from a government that ignored AIDS for years. These fiery activists didn’t wait for a grand utopian future; they acted with courage in a seemingly hopeless present, defying the cruelty and ignorance around them. They used civil disobedience to demand better drugs today, not tomorrow. They won those fights and saved countless lives.

Today the fight goes beyond medication; it’s a social justice battle—fighting the racism, homophobia, transphobia, and misogyny that fuel the AIDS epidemic in spite of our medical progress. For over 30 years, Housing Works has fought for social justice, anchored by this belief: that whether we are dying or healthy or somewhere in between, all human beings are deserving of housing, food, healthcare, and basic dignity and respect. Whether it’s AIDS, homelessness, the opioid crisis, COVID-19, or the next challenge, I trust Housing Works to lead with compassion, doing what needs to be done.

All of you are full of those same passions. The same courage, kindness, fierceness. The same miraculous blend of love, laughter, grief, and audacity. I see it every time Beth mentions Ira; when Clay passes me on a hill, again; when I see Cheyenne’s dazzling smile; when Amelia or Amy shouts something lewd at me on the road; when Linda envelopes me in a hug; when Wendy makes a bacon joke; when I see Jim stopping on the road to tell someone why we’re riding and when they say, “I don’t know anyone with HIV or AIDS,” he says, “yes, you do. I live with HIV.” What I see all around me is love—and I see it in every one of you.

These stories, our stories, are worth writing, sharing, expanding, and retelling. We come together on this ride to commemorate our dead and honor our best selves by showing up for those in need, and for one another. This ride is citizenry of the highest order. We have been writing that narrative together as a ride family for years, and the time I spend here with all of you every year heals my own soul on its darkest days. So let’s go write the next chapter.

Audacity has no age: BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2022, $50K for my 50th & a Timeline of Housing Works Milestones, 1990-present

L to R: Friends from the ride Beth Shapiro and Amy Danziger Tenenbaum and me, mugging for the camera during BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2002 :

In less than 40 days, I will be participating in BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2022, benefiting Housing Works, with an aim of raising $50,000 to support Housing Works’ mission to end AIDS and homelessness.

You read that right. 

As most of you know, I’ve been participating in this bike ride fundraiser since 2008, in memory of Dennis and Curtis, two family friends who died of AIDS-related illness in 1987 and 2003, respectively, and for many close friends who live with HIV. In recent years, I upped my fundraising goal significantly and thanks to hundreds of folks like you, I’ve raised $23,000 and $26,000 every year for the last three years running. Those fundraising results year after year represent a collective citizenry and good will—a steadfast, commitment from everyone in my social orbit to help make the world a more healing place for our communities, especially those in greatest need.

This year, I’m doubling down and asking everyone I know to help me raise $50K.

$50,000 for my 50th Birthday

I turn 50 in early December. My age each birthday is a number like any other, and 50 is no different. And yet, like my friends who are my age, I’m finding the imminent half-century marker is prompting greater introspection and reflection across all different parts of my life.

I try not to spend a lot of time contemplating my mortality. Death comes for us all eventually. Most of us have no control over when and how. In my experience, there’s little rhyme or reason, much less fairness, to the details of how those cards play out. What I do know for certain: Best-case scenario, if I’m lucky as hell and get to live a very long, well-lived and well-loved life into my 80s or 90s—hopefully keeping my marbles and with the anatomy plumbing still functioning—I’m already more than halfway through my time on this plane of existence.

At this point in my life, I know who and what I care about most, and I want to make the most of the time I have.

My network of friends, family, and colleagues hasn’t gotten significantly bigger. My personal pockets haven’t grown deeper. What has grown deeper is my willingness to believe in radical hope—to know in my core that when it comes to facing serious societal problems head on, audacity in the face of uncertainty and even amidst the grimmest realities has no downside.

I know what I’m asking for is a lot. I’m asking anyway.

DONATE VIA MY FUNDRAISING PAGE: https://give.classy.org/mika2022.

Donations of all sizes are welcome, but a gift of $250 or more will go a long way toward reaching my $50,000 goal and enabling Housing Works to do more of the amazing work they do. (For more on what a gift of $250 or more can fund, scroll down to the end of this post.)

Why now? Because audacity makes things happen—and audacity has no age.

I did my very first AIDS ride when I was a 26-year-old graduate student getting an MFA in creative writing. I had no money, no salaried, full-time job, no health insurance. My network of possible donors was small, scrappy, dedicated, and mostly youthful, but not affluent. I worked my tail off hounding everyone I knew. I trained on my bicycle in 90-degree heat, having never gone more than 50 or 60 miles. I raised somewhere between $4,000 and $5,000, more money than I could have conceived of raising and more than double my original goal. My biggest single donation came from a surprising source. Not family or a close friend. Not someone who was wealthy. It was someone I knew through work, a person of modest means who had for a number of years been homeless himself.

Nearly 25 years later, I’ve logged tens of thousands of miles on The Blue Streak, my bicycle, and with the help of hundreds of kind souls like you, I’ve raised over $170,000 and counting to end AIDS and homelessness.

The biggest lesson that first AIDS ride taught me:

To accomplish the extraordinary, you have to do something pretty ordinary—ask people for help and tell them why it matters. The trick is having to do that ordinary thing over and over again. You have to keep showing up, even when it feels tiresome. You ask *everyone* you can think of for help. And then ask again. There’s no downside to that audacity. You never know who will step up to join you.

Why supporting Housing Works specifically, now, is more crucial than ever:

Many people, myself included feel like the world as we know it is on fire, literally and figuratively, in almost every arena, which can make it hard to prioritize a focus. We may support many issues, but our day-to-day time is not infinite. So it’s worth taking a moment to reflect on where we give our time, energy, and financial support and why.

We’ve all spent the last two and a half years and counting under the shadow of a new pandemic, another infectious virus that doesn’t care if our elected officials make sound decisions in the name of public health. If COVID-19 has underscored anything, it’s what AIDS has already taught us over the last 40 years—that communicable disease thrives, above all else, in poverty, injustice, stigma, racism and all other forms of discrimination, hate, and seemingly benign neglect that’s complicit by virtue of silence and inaction.

I was drawn to Housing Works initially because of its holistic approach to its clients and its inclusive and welcoming environment. Most AIDS organizations focus on one or two core services and refer their clients to other agencies for other needs. Housing Works provides a range of integrated crucial programs—the key services clients need not only to survive but to thrive: housing, job training, health care (including primary care, dental, and mental health, not only HIV-specific services), free legal help, substance use treatment, and more. 

What makes Housing Works special, however, goes beyond its life-saving HIV/AIDS and housing services; it’s the intense commitment to social justice and compassionate care. Those guiding principles and values date back to Housing Works’ cultural roots beginning in the early 1990s—so social justice and compassion are deeply embedded into all their life-saving services and in how they provide them, with as much dignity, accessibility, and equity as possible. That same fiery social justice and expansive compassion are also reflected in when and how Housing Works shows up during emergency-level social crises, even those that extend beyond the issues of AIDS and homelessness.

When emergencies happen, as they inevitably do, Housing Works doubles down on their audacity and commitment to being a force for healing.

Housing Works has boots on the ground, thoughtful and strategic expertise to offer, and a willingness to pursue and invest in innovations today that become tomorrow’s wisdom.  

My friend and former colleague, incredible HIV advocate Valerie Reyes-Jimenez, in DC in Sept. 2018, during one of several protests against Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination

Year after year, decade after decade, audacity and compassion are how Housing Works shows up. During my five years working at Housing Works heading up the Advocacy Department’s initiatives, whatever social crisis came our way—from mounting annual “Get Out the Vote” campaigns, to supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, to bussing hundreds of New Yorkers to DC for The Women’s March, to protests on Capitol Hill to fight off repeated attempts to repeal the Affordable Care Act, to organizing non-violent civil disobedience actions in response to the nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court—the approach was the same. (If you need a visual reminder of how Housing Works has embodied audacity in support of social justice for 30 years and counting, check out the timeline at the end of this post.)

Housing Works takes on the expected and the unexpected in equal measure.

When new, unanticipated challenges arise, Housing Works doesn’t say “or,” they say “and.”

THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT I WANT FROM YOU: To Say “And” Instead of “Or”

Housing Works has my deep, ongoing commitment not only because I believe their mission is comprised of one of the most critical social justice issues of the past half-century—but because I trust them to always be on the front lines, doing what needs to be done and then some—for ending AIDS and homelessness as well whatever other unexpected challenges and related causes arise. I know that whatever additional emergencies come our way, Housing Works will step up without hesitation and rise to the occasion to do what’s needed.

Me being goofy during NYC Pride, June 2022

I don’t have the mojo to expand or remake SCOTUS. I don’t have the immunology genius to cure AIDS or COVID. In lieu of that, I want to do as much as I can during my lifetime to stem that rough social-justice tide, even just a bit. A big part of that for me takes the form of deepening my existing commitments. 

In that spirit, I kicked off my own fundraising with a donation of $1,000. Only $49,000 to go!

Please donate todayDonations of all sizes fare welcome, but a gift of $250 or more is especially helpful. Some info on what your gift underwrites:

$250—Pays for 50 hygiene kits for homeless youth, with daily essentials like soap, deodorant, and a pill-sized tablet cloth that expands into a towel when you add water

$600—Covers the cost for 50 rapid HIV tests

$750—Feeds 375 homeless youth during evening drop-in hours at Housing Works’ East New York Health Center

$1,000—Provides 1 month of supportive housing for HIV-positive individuals

$1,500—Completely outfits 5 new single-unit apartments with household items

$2,500—Provides transportation for a week for HW’s mobile COVID teams

$3,500—Funds a bus and stipends to send 54 advocates to Albany

$5,000—Funds a bus and stipends to send 54 advocates to Washington, DC, and provides bail money for 10 advocates to take an arrest for civil disobedience

Thank you in advance for your time and support. I can’t do this without you. 

Yours in solidarity,

Mika

BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2021 & Some Sunflower Audacity

This spring, a friend emailed a photo of me, taken in September 2008 during my first BRAKING AIDS® Ride, that I had never seen before. In the months since, I have found myself returning to what it does and doesn’t reveal.

Me, during my first BRAKING AIDS® Ride, September 26, 2008

The first anomaly is that it doesn’t appear to be raining. The downpours during that 2008 ride from Gettysburg, PA, to Manhattan were near-constant all three days. Throughout the weekend, I recall only a handful of brief respites during which it wasn’t wet, and this photo must have been taken during one of them. All I remember of the moment itself was taking a break with two other first-time riders to drink in the vibrancy of that gorgeous field of sunflowers. While we were stopped, the ride photographer—who was probably psyched to be able to take some pictures that weren’t rain-soaked—urged us to go stand in that patch of floral sunshine with our bikes. I no longer recall if the photo was snapped on Day 1 or Day 2 of the ride; my instinct says the sunflowers were a Day 1 sighting. What I am certain of is that it was early enough in the ride that I hadn’t reached the halfway mark yet.

Beyond the setting and the weather, what strikes me about the image is that it exudes the joy and excitement I had doing this ride for the very first time. 

What’s not visible are all the expectations and fears I had going into the ride.

I was deeply invested in riding every single mile, all 300 of them—a goal I’d never attempted much less achieved at that point. Nothing in this photo reveals how scared and anxious part of me was of falling short of that desired milestone.

I was entirely uncertain I could raise $3,500, much less $10K, or $15K, or $20K. Quite simply, I had never asked for that kind of help—and so I was ignorant, both of my own tenacity and of the deep generosity and kindness of my family, friends, and colleagues.

I was also nervous about fitting into the ride family, worried that I’d feel alone. When I registered for the ride in April 2008, I didn’t know anyone. I’d met and trained with a handful of folks during the summer, but I knew we wouldn’t necessarily stick together throughout the actual ride itself. So I went in to the ride weekend excited—searching for and hopeful about a sense of connection and belonging—but I didn’t know how any of that would play out. 

None of that is apparent in the look on my face in this photo. Looking at it now, I seem to radiate an inner confidence and solidity. Those qualities may well have been burning deep beneath the surface, but if they were there, I wasn’t yet aware of it. I look grounded, and I know that isn’t how I was feeling at that point. I was open to what the road was going to bring, but uncertain about almost everything except my desire to attempt what felt impossible, even a little crazy.

This photo of me hollering my way up a hill is visually more in line with how I felt going into my first BRAKING AIDS® Ride.

Housing Works: 30 Years and Counting of Compassion, Healing & Audacity

Housing Works has been dedicated to doing audacious, necessary work that often feels impossible, even a little crazy, since its founding in 1990, providing lifesaving services to mostly poor, disenfranchised communities. In the early 1990s, that meant finding housing for homeless people with AIDS who had been cast to the margins by the rest of our society; it meant practicing harm reduction methods like needle exchange for drug users—then new and hugely controversial but now long proven to be one of the most effective HIV prevention interventions and indeed one of the most effective public health interventions, period.*

* (The proof is in the data: In 1993, at the height of the AIDS epidemic, 50% of the 15,000 new HIV infections experienced every year in NY State were transmitted via shared needles; by 2018, as a result of harm reduction programs, fewer than 70 new HIV infections—yes, 70; you read that correctly—were transmitted via shared needles annually across NY State.)

Since 2014, Housing Works has been leading the charge in the effort to end AIDS as an epidemic in New York State by 2020, with CEO Charles King appointed by Governor Cuomo to chair the Ending the Epidemic Task Force that drafted the state plan. New York State was the first jurisdiction to create an end-AIDS plan, and that bold vision has led dozens of other states and local government to follow suit.

As you all know, just a few months into 2020, the goal year, we were hit with a new, fatal, global pandemic and public health emergency. Housing Works did what it always does in a crisis: They sprang into thoughtful, intelligent, and immediate action to meet the needs of the most vulnerable who are always hit hardest. Rather than cutting back on their lifesaving AIDS, housing, and advocacy services, the organization both adapted existing programs to the new remote conditions—providing housing, healthcare, advocacy, case management, substance use treatment, legal assistance, and job training—and took on a leadership role in meeting the COVID-19 pandemic head on. A fuller summary of Housing Works’ COVID-19 initiatives, most of which are ongoing, can be found here, but highlights include:

  • supplying and distributing PPE to frontlines workers
  • opening COVID-19 homeless shelters
  • providing free COVID-19 testing and vaccination, including a mobile vaccination initiative at NYC HRA shelters
  • serving as a steering organization for NYC’s COVID-19 working group.

Perhaps one of their most important ongoing roles in the COVID-19 pandemic is the one Housing Works has always played in its relationship to government: as advocates and activists pushing our city and state to do more and do better for those at greatest risk, especially low-income people and the homeless.

For 30 years and counting, Housing Works has stepped up to face and solve whatever crisis comes their way.

That’s why I ride every year to support this important organization. This September will be my 13th BRAKING AIDS® Ride (12 rides as a rider, one as a volunteer crew member)—a one-day, in-person group event. Since that first ride in 2008, I’ve ridden tens of thousands of miles on the same blue bicycle I held overhead in that field of sunflowers, and I’ve shown up every year to do my part to create awareness and raise money—over $148,000 to date—to end AIDS and homelessness.

How You and I Can Help

In support of Housing Works’ ongoing dedication and audacity, between now and September, I remain committed to raising $20,000 to support their life-saving programs.

My personal wishes and goals for this year’s ride are similar to the ones I have more generally coming out of a year and a half of deeply fraught, uncertain pandemic living:

Please DONATE TODAY. Donations of all sizes are welcome, but a gift of $200 or more will go a long way toward reaching my $20,000 goal.

I want to enter it grounded in the spirit of self-renewal and self-compassion, with rejuvenated and deepened commitment, vitality, passion, excitement, joy, and above all, gratitude. I want my spirits to thrum with the bright audacity of field of sunflowers—so that my thoughts, feelings, and pursuits glow with some measure of that resolute vibrancy.

DONATE VIA MY FUNDRAISING PAGE: https://give.classy.org/mika2021

Me, joyful during BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2019, the last time the group ride event took place in person

Ways to make giving easier, to make your donation go further & to help me reach my $20K goal sooner:

  • PLEASE CHECK WITH YOUR HR DEPT. & SEE IF YOUR COMPANY WILL MATCH YOUR DONATION! If so, then check the “YES” bullet in the Company Matching section of the online donation form, and fill out the related information. You may be able to double or even triple your contribution! In 2020, over $3K of the $24,000+ I raised came from company matches, so I cannot underscore enough how much this helps.
  • Recurring Monthly Gift: On the donation page, once you select a gift amount, click on the “Donate Monthly” option to set up a recurring donation of any amount over your desired period of time. I prefer to donate this way because I can give more with much smaller hit coming from my wallet each month.
  • Cover Processing Costs: Each donation incurs a processing fee that’s 4% of your gift. When the overall fundraising goal is $20K, 4% adds up: If everyone who gives covers the processing fee, that’s an additional $800 that goes straight to work at Housing Works.
  • Please forward this information to EVERYONE. Spread the word to your friends, family & colleagues! Forward this email letter or share my donation link with your own networks on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & other social media.

Thank you again for all of your support for this important cause. I couldn’t do any of this without you.

Please join me & Housing Works in the fight against AIDS by donating to Braking AIDS® Ride 2021 (Sept. 12)—Mika De Roo, Rider # 32.

Donation site: https://give.classy.org/mika2021

VIDEO—Taking the Way to Joy: After 12 Years, Why I Still Ride to End AIDS

I often get asked why I keep coming back to BRAKING AIDS® Ride and the cause and organization it supports. Most of the time, my answers take written form. This year, thanks to Black Watch, the video production company that’s been documenting the ride since its inception, I’m able to share some brief video footage from the road that gives a glimpse into what ending AIDS means to me.

DONATE TO SUPPORT ME for BRAKING AIDS® 2020

I don’t say it anywhere in the interview footage, but I’ve said elsewhere that the ride community, like Housing Works itself, embodies radical inclusion. Radical inclusion means accepting people as they are and standing for love that heals and for acts of kindness. Fortunately for me, that also means that those spaces and communities accept me as I am, however and wherever I am. I’ve shown up for the ride determined and confident. I’ve shown up terrified and exhausted. I’ve shown up elated to see my ride family together again. I’ve shown up lost, feeling like life has brought me to my knees, with no notion of what I might have to offer anyone else, much less a community or a cause. I’ve show up in joy and grief, heartbreak and euphoria. I’ve shown up juggling many of these contradictory feelings all at once.

Year after year, my BRAKING AIDS® family has shown me I can show up as I am, even mired in the doubts and dark-angel whispers of my weakest, most critical selves and still be accepted, loved, and useful. That openness in and of itself is a healing presence. The most important part is the showing up itself.

The same is true for Housing Works, which has been showing up for 30 years and counting to create hope for the most vulnerable among us, whether that’s through its long-standing, innovative HIV/AIDS and housing services to its recent Covid-19 emergency response efforts.

In this way, the ride and its community embody how prison abolitionist Mariame Kaba describes hope: She talks about hope as a practice, a discipline, a process rather than an external outcome, force, or destination. Hope is created from how we each choose to live and act every day.

The ride engenders that practice of hope for me. The collective spirit it creates and inspires enables me to “take the way to joy,” as my brilliant musician-songwriter-podcaster friend Sam Shaber says in the lyrics to the song playing in the video above.  I hope you’ll join me in supporting that journey.

Please DONATE TODAY.

Donations of all sizes are welcome, but a gift of $200 or more will go a long way toward reaching my $20,000 goal. 

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From left to right: me, with friends Rodney Newby and Blake Strasser on a recent Saturday ride. Photo credit: Mikola De Roo.

During the Covid-19 Pandemic, Housing is Still Healthcare

About Housing Works’ Emergency Covid-19 Homeless Shelters

True to its “housing is health care” roots, Housing Works’ first priority at the onset of the Covid-19 crisis and lockdown in New York was to address the most critical housing and shelter gaps created by this new pandemic. The policy at NYC’s congregant shelters has been to screen people for Covid-19, to send those with symptoms or who tested positive to a hospital ER, and then prohibit their return until fully recovered—a protocol that effectively turns homeless people with Covid-19 out onto the streets, where there is no way to maintain the adequate physical separation and hygienic safety measures necessitated by the coronavirus pandemic.

Aware of the particular challenges that homelessness would pose as Covid-19 spread throughout the city, Housing Works wasted no time back in March and immediately partnered with Latino Commission on AIDS, the National Black Leadership Commission on AIDS, Treatment Action Group, and Callen-Lorde Community Health Center to form the Covid-19 Community Work Group. Housing Works then approached the NYC Department of Social Services to propose managing Covid-19 emergency shelters out of unused city hotels.

As a result of those timely pivots, since April, Housing Works has been operating two shelters for homeless people who have or are suspected to have Covid-19, the first housing 150 people and the second housing another 100. Amidst a city shortage of protective gear and medical supplies, Housing Works also turned to a former board member to locate face masks, gloves, and other supplies to protect the people they serve as well as Housing Works staff.

At the Housing Works Covid-19 shelters, onsite staffers conduct wellness checks, case managers are on hand to help secure public assistance or Medicaid, crisis intervention specialists deliver behavioral health services using telemedicine, and Callen-Lorde staff provide medical services to residents. As of mid-June, the shelters had served over 300 people so far.

Housing Works is also working to find upgraded housing and better care and living situations for the people served, rather than just returning them to congregant shelters. For example, some people who were living with HIV or who had suffered domestic violence or sexual assault in the shelters have been able to transition into Housing Works apartments.

Select press coverage of Housing Works’ Covid-19 emergency work:

To donate to support Housing Works via Braking AIDS Ride 2020: https://give.classy.org/mika2020

The Blue Streak, taking a break to rest by the ocean.

Housing Works Covid-19 Emergency Response, BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2020 & Me: Your Help Needed

This isn’t going to be my usual, annual AIDS Ride fundraiser. A lot has changed since last September. For five months and counting, we’ve been in the midst of a raging global pandemic of a potentially lethal and highly contagious virus, the likes of which none of us has known during our lifetimes, and we’re experiencing the economic and community upheaval that goes with that. We’re also seeing a huge wave of nationwide and global demands for long overdue racial and social justice. To say that our world is facing ongoing volatility and uncertainty is putting it mildly.

2020: Not Your Typical AIDS Ride Year

In my 12 years of doing this ride, I’ve often written about the importance of showing up over the long term for the important causes and ideals we believe in. With so many challenges amidst so much chaos, it’s been hard to know what showing up means and requires in our present circumstances. Here’s what it means to me right now: Together, we can still take some actions that assuage some of those uncertainties and help address some of the existing societal inequities that Covid-19 has illuminated more widely, and I hope you’ll consider helping and supporting me in that endeavor.

Me, riding with my friend Brian Carroll on Day 1 of last year’s BRAKING AIDS® Ride. Photo by Alan Barnett.

Housing Works & the Covid-19 Crisis

Since 2008, I have participated in BRAKING AIDS® Ride in memory of Dennis and Curtis, two family friends who died of AIDS-related illness in 1987 and 2003, respectively, and for many close friends who live with HIV. In that time, donations from people like you enabled me to raise over $125,000 and counting to support services for those living with HIV as well as its efforts toward ending the AIDS epidemic once and for all.The life-saving HIV services and healing community that Housing Works has provided to the most vulnerable among us are still crucial, but because of the tremendous progress we have made toward ending New York State’s AIDS epidemic, that need is a little less dire than it once was.

What is urgent, as you likely know from the headlines you see every day, is supporting those hit hard by Covid-19, particularly in the most vulnerable communities among us. Many of those communities are the same poor, disenfranchised populations that Housing Works, BRAKING AIDS® Ride’s beneficiary, has been serving since its founding 30 years ago in 1990—those who are homeless or incarcerated, and those struggling with severe physical illness, mental illness, and/or addiction. As with HIV/AIDS, these communities have been particularly vulnerable to Covid-19.

As someone who worked at Housing Works for five years, I know firsthand that when a new crisis arises, no matter how daunting, time and again, the organization rises to the occasion to meet that challenge right away. After the devastating 2010 earthquake in Haiti, Housing Works responded with immediate emergency aid, helping rebuild three health clinics for those displaced by the natural disaster. Throughout 2017 and 2018, Housing Works galvanized an ongoing national movement of concerned citizens to descend on the Capitol to save the Affordable Care Act and oppose the many GOP attempts to repeal it and eviscerate affordable health care for all.

So I wasn’t surprised that as soon as Covid-19 shut down New York this past March, Housing Works sprang into action and became a crucial player in the city’s coronavirus response.In addition to their ongoing work as the largest community-based AIDS service organization in the country—providing housing, healthcare, case management, substance use treatment, legal assistance, and job training—since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, Housing Works has opened two COVID-19 homeless shelters and partnered with a major NYC-based PPE supply operation to distribute PPE to frontline workers.

Those who are interested in more details about Housing Works’ innovative interventions can check out this post.

What’s most important to understand is this:

None of these endeavors was in the budget. But it is essential emergency response work that needs to be done. These remarkable Covid-19 emergency initiatives were launched in a matter of weeks, all while Housing Works has simultaneously faced a massive revenue deficit—estimated at $8 million by the end of June—as a result of the need to shut down its retail locations, which provide so much of their financial support, as well as the April cancellation of its largest annual fundraising event, and the suspension of a number of revenue-generating programs.

How You and I Can Help

The Covid-19 crisis isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and no doubt Housing Works will continue to provide emergency services for our most vulnerable residents. Housing Works doesn’t hesitate to act and provide solutions when new problems arise, and we shouldn’t either.As of this writing, for safety reasons, the biking portion of this year’s BRAKING AIDS Ride will likely only span one day—a 62-mile, masked and physically distanced group ride beginning and ending in Manhattan. In the week leading up to the ride, I am also committed to doing two 100-mile (century) rides on my own while I’m in Cape Cod. More important, whatever the physical ride does or doesn’t look like, between now and September, I remain committed to raising $20,000 to support Housing Works. The graphic below highlights what your generous donation can help to fund right now.

Please DONATE TODAY. Donations of all sizes are welcome, but a gift of $200 or more will go a long way toward reaching my $20,000 goal. $200 provides two weeks’ worth of gowns for five residence managers; $250 pays for emergency food for 10 Housing Works shelter residents for a week.

DONATE VIA MY FUNDRAISING PAGE: https://give.classy.org/mika2020

Ways to make giving easier, to make your donation go further & to help me reach my $20K goal sooner: 

• PLEASE CHECK WITH YOUR HR DEPT. & SEE IF YOUR COMPANY WILL MATCH YOUR DONATION! If so, then check the “YES” bullet in the Company Matching section of the online donation form, and fill out the related information. You may be able to double or even triple your contribution! In 2019, nearly $5K of the $24,000+ I raised came from company matches, so I cannot underscore enough how much this helps. 

• Recurring Monthly Gift: On the donation page, once you select a gift amount, click on the “Donate Monthly” option to set up a recurring donation of any amount over your desired period of time.I prefer to donate this way because I can give more with much smaller hit coming from my wallet each month.

• Cover Processing Costs:  Each donation incurs a processing fee that’s 4% of your gift. When the overall fundraising goal is $20K, 4% adds up: If everyone who gives covers the processing fee, that’s an additional $800 that goes straight to work at Housing Works. 

Please forward this information to EVERYONE. Spread the word to your friends, family & colleagues! Forward this email letter or share my donation link with your own networks on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & other social media.

Thank you in advance for your support for this important cause. I couldn’t do any of this without you.

Me, on the morning of Day 1, Braking AIDS® Ride 2020. Photo by Alan Barnett.

Please support me & Housing Works by donating to Braking AIDS® Ride 2020 (Sun., 9/13)—Mika De Roo, Rider # 32. DONATE: BRAKING AIDS® Ride 2020