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On
a Winge and a Prayer
Written by Chris Pommier
Reprinted from December 22, 2006 issue of Lavender Magazine
In a snowstorm in Upstate New York in 1983, a young Kevin Winge, recently
out of college, began a new life for himself far from friends and family
in
What seemed a whimsical
choice made by a single guy in his early 20’s would lead Winge into the
vibrant gay scene of
The spreading pandemic
of HIV/AIDS slowly would cast its long shadow over Winge’s life. By August
1996, most of his friends in
Finally, at 6 PM on New
Year’s Eve, Winge found himself in a dark church basement in
“I remember saying, ‘Either
this is the most dedicated board of directors I’ve ever seen, or none
of you has a life!” Winge recalls.
Today, in a light-colored
blazer, button-down shirt, slacks, and yellow tie, Winge somehow manages
to appear impeccably professional and boyish at the same time. He looks
younger than his 47 years. A smile always seems to be not too far from
his lips.
More comfortable at the
helm than in the spotlight, he doesn’t like to talk about his personal
life. Ask him about growing up
gay in small-town
“We’ve spent a great
deal of time and effort trying to get people to not see AIDS as a gay
disease, and not to see Open Arms as a gay organization. Because we’re
not. We never have been,” Winge
explains. “For me, [being gay] is not so important. It’s just part of
the mix.”
After that final interview
with the board on New Year’s Eve 1996, Winge spent the next five years
working at Open Arms. Along with scores of dedicated volunteers and staff,
he helped move the organization from the original church basement to its
own building, and steadily increased the number of people served from
around 100 clients in 1996 to nearly 400 today.
In 2002, though, Winge
longed to pursue other interests, including working in Sub-Saharan Africa.
Not one to be daunted by long odds, he applied to and was accepted by
the Kennedy School of Government at
Winge established his
deep connection to
However, Winge’ concerns
for the continent and its people have roots in the late 1990s. Over the years, he watched as rising levels
of infection continued to exceed the direct predictions of health professionals
and government agencies.
For Winge, it became
an ethical dilemma. How could he live with himself if he stood by and
watched thousands upon thousands of people fall ill and die, in the same
way that the majority of Americans watched countless gay men wither and
die in the early days of HIV/AIDS?
It was while Winge worked
in
Though the strength and
immediacy of these letters home, friends began offering to send money,
which Winge gladly put to use. These donations, garnered while he was
affiliated with no officially recognized non-profit organization, helped
form the basis for the outreach that later would become Open Arms of Minnesota’s
international program.
“AIDS has always been
a disease of ‘the other’ or ‘those people’ or ‘them.’” Winge writes in his book Never give Up: Vignettes from Sub-Saharan
Winge returned from
Back in his role as Executive
Director, and confronted with the evolving face of AIDS, Winge and Open
Arms have had to embrace change quickly and substantively to continue
serving their clients.
“If you’re not changing,
you’re dying,” Winge states, “Because the world is changing.”
When Open Arms began
delivering meals to people living with HIV/AIDS in 1986, no one could
have predicted where the disease would go. In the beginning, the organization
addressed a very specific population and a very specific need. Now, the
populations have changed along with the demographics.
Today, nearly 78 percent
of Open Arms clients live below the federal poverty level, according to
Winge. Since 1996, the number of clients who represent minority populations
has doubled from 27 percent to more than 50 percent.
“We can’t continue to
do our work the way we’ve always done it just because that’s the way we’ve
always done it,’’ Winge notes.
With that in mind, Winge led Open Arms through
an expansion of services in 2005, when it began serving people fighting
breast cancer, as well as those diagnosed
with Multiple Sclerosis and ALS (commonly known as “Lou Gehrig’s Disease”) through its meal-delivery programs.
Before the expansion, Open Arms held focus groups
of clients, volunteers, and donors.
“Our clients got it right
away,” Winge recounts.
Clients realized the
importance of meals for all people dealing with progressive diseases,
but they also understood immediately the importance of building bridges
and understanding among individuals of different backgrounds.
When critics raised concerns
about Open Arms moving away from its mission, Winge took that opportunity
to speak to the important difference between the services the organization
provides and what he sees as its true work.
“It brings whole new
worlds of people together who otherwise wouldn’t have met,” Winge relates.
“That’s how you start to affect change.”
Winge sees the force
of more than 1,300 volunteers who keep the organization running not only
as caregivers delivering meals, making food, or donating time to staff
the offices, but also as ambassadors to their many diverse communities.
In Winge’s words, “So,
if someone volunteers at Open Arms and returns to their communities, and
they hear someone say something disparaging about gay people, or people
in poverty, or people of color, they can say, ‘No. That’s not true. I
work with those people, and they are not like that.’ ”
Another change that Open
Arms has made under Winge’s direction is in the way it delivers meals.
Because many people with
progressive disease like HIV/AIDS are living longer these days, and often
can work, the old model of providing three hot meals daily wasn’t effective
for all clients all the time.
Again, after consulting
clients, volunteers, and donors, Open Arms switched gears in a matter
of days to deliver a majority of its meals frozen on a weekly basis.
Ultimately, though, it’s
Open Arms’ new international work that Winge seems most proud of.
The seed money Winge
raised while on his fellowship in
Winge, working with locals
through the Zwane Community Centre, also launched a twice-yearly food
parcel program, which continues today. As of World AIDS Day, December
1, 300 families were getting enough food to last them a month, delivered
in plastic buckets that can be used to haul water when the food is gone.
Other international AIDS
organizations hope to take the Open Arms model, and replicate it in new
communities throughout
“It’s not scarcity model,”
Winge remarks as he smiles again, and holds his arms wide open in front
of himself in a gesture meant to encompass the room, the table he’s sitting
at, the building,
Winge adds, “I get so
tired of people coming up with excuses not to do something. I will not
accept the excuses that most people use for inaction. You don’t need $10,000
to make a difference. Find something.
It doesn’t have to be AIDS. There are enough issues in the world. Find
something that you’re passionate about, and do it.”
To find out how much
sponsoring a parcel of food for a family in Guguletu costs, or to learn
about volunteering at Open Arms of Minnesota, call (612) 872-1152 or visit
www.openarmsmn.org.