I was sitting in the waiting room and couldn't help but notice. discussing nursery plans, baby names. I sat in the chair alone feeling the kicks. I was uninsured, unemployed, living with my parents. I wasn't even 30, but already a survivor where violence was the daily norm. After broken bones and broken dreams, it seemed my life couldn't get worse. Or so I thought. When my doctor called me, I noticed her serious expression. And then she asked me, "Are you faithful?" I thought, wait, what? What the heck? And I just kept staring at her unaware of what was going on. She insisted, "Are you faithful? Do you have relationships?" And then I told her once again was living with my parents, eight months pregnant, definitely not thinking. And then she said, "The thing is, you have AIDS. And by reading your exams, you won't survive to raise this child." Globally, one in three women face at some point in their lives, a number that has remained unchanged. And just like me, women are three times more likely to get HIV, usually from their abuser. But here's the thing, most of the research is led by academics with minimal input or participation from the women. With a traditional, top-down academics with more power and resources, swoop in to “save” communities with strategies and questions that often end up perpetuating against the very people. This leaves them feeling ashamed. There is also a risk of not getting. How can we "fix" communities' challenges? Aren't they the best experts? I came to understand this firsthand, both during my experience and through my own professional journey. First of all, my doctor was wrong. It is 2024 and I'm still here. I was sick for a long time, but eventually I got better to become a woman's right activist. And in honor to the countless women and HIV AIDS, I wanted to use my science in the lives of others like me. But that meant changing the way. Back in grad school, I got this very neat research project. I was going to help improve the lives. so I hit the streets to interview them. The main question I was supposed to ask: "How often do you have sex?" Pretty soon I realized I was way off base. The real worry was not condoms. The real fear was getting and not making it out alive. This eventually led me to adopt community. That's a fancy name that really includes affected communities, working with and for them, from the planning stage. Evaluations of community, but some authors found compared to more traditional methods. This is probably due to this. that really includes the unique allowing us to better understand. I saw this impact firsthand in my work with the queer. We formed an advisory board and populations and worked together conduct the surveys. What we found was that queer Brazilians were facing high rates of bullying, poverty and mental health struggles. So we partnered with local organizations to implement strategies: a free college preparation course and entrepreneurship training. These strategies developed to break. After seven years, our own tracking shows that more than 80 percent continued their education, receiving a college or university degree. The vast majority of those participating either launched new businesses. To address bullying and violence, we developed the Rise app, again in close collaboration. The app has features like a panic button, safe route mapping, mental health screening, 24/7 crisis support. It has thousands of users, many of whom have shared with us how the app has literally. Help is just a push away. Every single strategy was developed, implemented, tested, revised in close collaboration. This is, in essence, what community. I know as a survivor myself. We want to co-create change. But that's my own reality. And the singular experience is different from sex workers, Indigenous women from the Amazon Bay, people living with HIV Aids, from Uganda, Mozambique, Kenya. To work with those communities, I also had to humble myself and listen, truly listen to each community. And I have learned so much. I've cried and laughed a lot. I have met amazing, resilient, powerful humans, and together we developed new services, improved the existing ones, and even helped to change local. But I was not their savior. They were their own heroes.