There is a fashion trend afoot in the 02138. It’s hotter than Ray-Bans and hotter than Tory Burch loafers. It’s a T-shirt trend. I was first confronted with it the other day as I groggily stumbled to Peet’s for an early morning coffee. Typing an e-mail as I walked along, I nearly collided with a boy in a white T-shirt that read “HIV-Positive” in big, purple, block print. I looked up at him and mumbled some apology.

Perhaps he assumed my mumbling was a result of being overcome by his thought-provoking threads. Really, I was just sleep-deprived and latte-less. It was only as the week went on and I spied dozens of other undergrads sporting the same uniform that I took notice of the phenomenon.

Upon further investigation, I discovered that the T-shirts are not a new fashion at all. They debuted in 2000, and they are the brainchild of the Treatment Action Campaign (TAC), a South African AIDS advocacy group. They were conceived of as a way to combat stigma against HIV and AIDS after a South African activist in the country was killed owing to popular disapproval of her openness about her own HIV-positive status.

On this page last week, three Harvard students waxed poetic about the power of the T-shirt in an op-ed entitled, “We are all HIV-Positive.” Actually, no, we are not. Regrettable title aside, the piece went on to declare: “The ‘HIV POSITIVE’ T-shirt, then, is an intentionally provocative rebuke to inaction. It battles the silence, apathy, and stigma that impede awareness, prevention, and treatment measures.”

The HIV-Positive T-shirt may be a useful tool in a place like South Africa, where huge numbers of those living there are infected yet efforts at awareness of treatment and prevention of the disease are stymied by fear of the attached stigma. But at a tolerant place such as Harvard, stigma and silence are not the problem. Community-wide, most of us have already acknowledged that the HIV/AIDS epidemic is devastating; our focus ought to be on the means by which we can marshal our University’s vast intellectual and monetary resources to bring aid to places where the disease is rampant.

In our context, the HIV-Positive T-shirt and the language of its cotton army is a sad case of typical cause-jargon–the “movement” misses the point completely. There is a stigma associated with HIV because it gives way to a terrible disease that kills people. While having HIV is not something one should be ashamed of, it is not a source of pride either. There is nothing about HIV/AIDS to be positive about, aside from the prospect of a cure or accessible drugs. I, for one, am glad—if not proud—that I do not carry HIV. This does not mean that I do not feel sorry for those who are infected by the terrible disease—it just means that I do not wish it upon myself, just as I wish disease victims could be HIV-free.

Furthermore, the T-shirt movement presumes that stigma will continue to exist unless we, the uninfected, can experience what it is like to be a person who is publicly HIV-positive—and that by wearing a cotton T-shirt, we can begin to understand. This is based on the idea that an awareness movement can only work if empathy exists. But the fact that I do not have HIV does not mean I lack compassion for those who are suffering.

It’s worthwhile to compare the “HIV-Positive” campaign to the incredibly successful “Live Strong” campaign of recent years, particularly since both are meant to be fund-raising tools. True, the T-shirt troupe does not enjoy the benefits of Lance Armstrong-scale publicity, which brought the bracelets instant notice. But what really distinguishes the movements from each other is that Live Strong referred to a mantra—although it was a means of raising awareness and funds for cancer research, the bracelets stated “Live Strong” as opposed to something like “I have cancer.” From a fundraising angle, the yellow bracelets were a hit because they provided a slogan that was inspirational. I doubt that these T-shirts can garner the same sort of success. “HIV-Positive” is not a mantra, but rather a simultaneously in-your-face and empty phrase.

This movement of supposed awareness-building is just another gimmick perpetuated by students who may have legitimate concern over the HIV/AIDS epidemic but are not investing their energy in areas that would have a real impact.

Last year, a group of Harvard undergraduates took part in a Student Labor Action Movement (SLAM) hunger strike to protest the low wages Harvard independent contractor Allied Barton was paying campus security guards. There were some flaws with the movement—most notably, it seems a bit hard to justify forgoing food over objection to a slight difference in wages. But at least SLAM’s cause was concrete. In the case of this latest cause, the T-shirts are just about talking. If those sporting tees are interested in real change, they ought to find more effective mechanisms.

Taken as a whole, what is most irksome about this T-shirt movement is that the level of dialogue is so low. If an institution such as Harvard cannot be a bastion for innovative thinking in the area of HIV/AIDS prevention and policy, then there is almost no hope for any other place. It’s up to us to escape the jargon and inaction that is ultimately tied to most “awareness-building” gimmicks. Otherwise, we’re wasting our time.

Lucy M. Caldwell ’09 is a history and literature concentrator in Adams House. Her column appears on alternate Tuesdays.