Last month, we experienced the passing of two lions of the civil rights movement: Dr. Dorothy I. Height, who for four decades headed the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW), and Rev. Benjamin L. Hooks, former head of the NAACP for 16 years. Their deaths represent a tremendous loss -- not just for black America, but for the world. Their lives exemplified the power of leadership and remind us that leadership matters.

Both Dr. Height, who was born in 1912, and Rev. Hooks, born in 1925, faced formidable challenges early in life. After winning a scholarship to attend New York City's prestigious Barnard College, Height arrived to the harsh news that she would not be accepted after all; the college had already admitted its annual quota of two Negro women. The young Height could have allowed this setback to derail her dreams. Instead, she fought on and found a leader who would serve her and black America well for 75 years -- herself.

She managed to do something almost unimaginable in segregated America: win acceptance at a second college, New York University, where she earned a bachelor's and master's degree. Over her lifetime, she was awarded 36 honorary doctorates, as well as Barnard's Medal of Distinction. Height was also bestowed both of our nation's highest civilian honors: the Presidential Medal of Freedom and the Congressional Gold Medal.

Hooks, served as a staff sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II. While putting his life on the line for his country, he experienced racism and discrimination, only to return home to fight for racial justice as a lawyer and Baptist minister in Memphis, Tenn., and Detroit; lead lunch-counter protests; help direct the Southern Christian Leadership Conference; and become the executive director of the NAACP in 1977. In 2007, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

Strong and visionary leaders like Height and Hooks are important, particularly during rapidly changing and uncertain times. But leadership can be found in different places. There is external leadership and there is internal leadership.

We can and should hold our public leaders and leaders accountable in the fight against HIV/AIDS. But we must also claim our own leadership and take responsibility for leading as well.

When we tell our friends and co-workers it's not acceptable to stigmatize people with HIV/AIDS, make homophobic statements about gay men or misogynous statements about women, then we demonstrate desperately needed leadership. We demonstrate leadership when we demand that our local health department do more to address HIV and other health issues in our communities.

We can also demonstrate private leadership, which requires asking yourself questions such as "What can I do each day to make a difference on the issue of HIV/AIDS?" or "What can I do today to make the world a better place for people infected with the virus?" The answer may come in many different forms: volunteering at an AIDS organization, writing a letter to members of Congress, organizing for the local AIDS walk or a free HIV testing event in one's church.

But probably the most important and often the most difficult form of leadership is personal leadership. For example, when your partner doesn't think it's important to use a condom, you insist on it anyhow. That's leadership. Knowing your HIV status and that of your sexual partner is personal leadership. For those of us who are already HIV-positive, seeking appropriate care and treatment, and disclosing our HIV status to our sexual partners, is leadership.

Height and Hooks demonstrated public leadership through their roles in national institutions, and they exhibited personal leadership in the integrity of how they lived their lives. Early on, Height understood the danger HIV posed to black communities. In one of my conversations with her, she reminded me that the NCNW was an early partner in the fight against HIV/AIDS.

Fortunately, black Americans can draw on a long legacy of people like Dr. Height and Rev. Hooks. We are the ones we've been waiting for. Because action is greater than apathy, and black people are greater than AIDS.


Phill Wilson is the president and CEO of the Black AIDS Institute, the only National HIV/AIDS think tank in the United States focused exclusively on black people. He can be reached at PhillWilson@BlackAIDS.org

The Greater Than AIDS movement responds to the AIDS crisis in the United States, in particular the severe and disproportionate epidemic among black Americans. To learn more, go to www.greaterthan.org or www.facebook.com/greaterthanaids.