Q&A with Sister Anne Dougherty

Interview by MIKE WILSON

© St. Petersburg Times, published November 28, 1999

[Times photo: Jonathan Newton]

Sister Anne Dougherty, a Franciscan nun, founded Tampa's Francis House in 1989 as a support center for people with HIV and AIDS. She was director for a decade, resigning earlier this year.

Today, Francis House serves 115 clients, including heterosexuals, homosexuals, and people of every color and ethnicity. Many are homeless, dependent on drugs or alcohol, mentally ill, or involved in abusive relationships. Francis House, at 4703 N Florida Ave., offers help with all of those problems. It also helps clients get legal counsel, child care and other services.

What was your first experience with a person with AIDS?

I had a friend who died of AIDS in 1988. His name was Don, and his partner and I were there with him when he died. For me there was this sensation that God was present in the room and that Don was safe, that he really was with God. That was my first experience of knowing a gay couple. I was like, What is this love all about? My first response was to think, This is wrong. It's not normal. I didn't understand how two men could love each other in an intimate, sexual way. But it was the love, it wasn't the sexual part of it, that just transcended everything.

How did you start ministering to people with HIV and AIDS?

A month after Don died, I started volunteering with the Tampa AIDS Network. I had a friend named Bill who was in Tampa General. He and a couple of other guys told me there was a priest who was so afraid and nervous. If this priest had to serve Communion, he would wear the gown and the gloves and he was just very uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if I believed the whole story because the guys were scared, too. Jerry Falwell had come out and said AIDS was God's divine retribution. Well, one day I was in the room and the priest came by and just threw a blessing from the door.

SISTER ANNE DOUGHERTY AGE: 47 PROFESSION: Director of campus ministry at Academy of the Holy Names, a Roman Catholic high school for girls in Tampa. ACHIEVEMENT: Founded Francis House, a Tampa support center for those afflicted with, or affected by, HIV or AIDS. Ran the center until this year. PERSONAL: Born, reared and educated in Philadelphia. Joined the Order of St. Francis in 1978. Lives in Tampa.

What do you mean?

He just blessed Bill from the doorway. He wouldn't come into the room. I went outside to talk to him because I felt really uncomfortable with what had happened. His response to me was, "I didn't want to disturb you because you were talking."

Did you buy his explanation?

Well, kinda sorta. ... Bill had retired from his job because of his illness, and later, he and some other guys started taking art classes at a community center. The ladies at the class used to ask him, "How come you're free during the day?" They had to lie. Bill told me, "If we had told them the truth, they probably would not have let us come back to the art class." He said, "Why don't we open up our own center? We could call it Francis House, because St. Francis loved everyone." That was how we got started.

How did other people respond to what you were doing?

They didn't understand. They said, "Why do you want to do something like that? Why do you want work with those people?" A couple of sisters in my community asked me, "Aren't you afraid you might get it?" I said, "You don't just get it that easily." They just didn't know. And then I would get dead silence from people, and that was the worst.

What did their silence mean?

It was like, "I'm not going to say it, but I don't approve of what you're doing." I went to a ministerial meeting and a fundamentalist minister asked me if I was saving these people. I said no, that wasn't my job. Only Jesus could save them. The ministry was to provide a safe place where people could explore who God was in their lives.

What if they weren't interested in that?

That was fine. People were not told what to believe. ... You didn't have to make a particular declaration of faith. What mattered was how we loved one another. St. Francis said, "Preach the Gospel by as few words as possible. Preach by example." It wasn't always easy. There were some people that I did not like who came to Francis House.

Why didn't you like them?

Because of aggressive, violent behavior and prejudice against other people. There were many people in that building who didn't like each other. We had a black straight man who was upset because a transgendered person came in and asked to be called Tasha. And he was yelling at the guy, saying, "You're not a man!" Making judgments, putting him down, making fun of him. And I said, "Excuse me, didn't you come in here a few months ago because you were being ostracized?"

What happened to Tasha?

He was murdered. The very people who felt uncomfortable with him, didn't want to be in the same group with him, didn't want to go bowling with him -- they were all devastated. Because they got past the stereotype. And they found out who the person really was. That he really was a brother.

What was the hardest thing about working at Francis House?

The hardest thing was that people who would start turning their lives around, and then for whatever reason would go back into drugs or drinking, or back to an abusive relationship. ... That was the hardest because I couldn't do anything about it. The fundraising, the staff politics, the political bulls-- stuff -- that was a pain, but it wasn't a deep pain.

Were there times when the work got you down?

The week we had two clients murdered within five days, I had to go on retreat. I had to get away. ... Playing golf was a good way to relieve stress, or running, or swimming. I think it was because I could do those things that I lasted so long in the ministry. If I didn't have a life outside Francis House, I would have been an angry person.

What was the best thing about Francis House?

When we opened our doors to children, that really made it feel like family. The men felt like they were big brothers. They didn't have children in their lives, so there were new opportunities for relating. Some of them didn't like kids, and that was fine.

What was it like for the kids to be there?

We had this Halloween party, and of course a lot of the guys got dressed up in drag. One guy was dressed up as Marilyn Monroe. This little boy was there and he was really into being a motorcycle guy. He had his little helmet and little black boots. And he said to Marilyn, "What's your name?" The guy told him. The boy said, "You're no girl, you're a boy!" And I'm thinking, is this good for this kid?

What did you decide?

That it was good. There are all kinds of people in the world. Let's be honest; we all wear masks. I'm hoping the world might be a little bit better because that child might be a little more open.

Why did you leave the HIV/AIDS ministry?

My personal belief is that people shouldn't be in leadership more than 10 years. I feel change is good. And I think I've given all that I was meant to give at Francis House. In the last couple of years I felt that I was being called to a deeper contemplative life, that I needed more time for contemplation and meditation.

How have you grown through the experience of having worked at Francis House?

I never really knew what it meant to be a follower of St. Francis until Bill told me, "I feel like a leper." I didn't know what a leper was. I'm from Philadelphia. I'm a city girl. What's a leper? Then I found out. I found out what it means to be a Franciscan, to be a brother or a sister to the person next to you.

-- Interview by Mike Wilson