
If you’ve ever met Michelle Bahr at Aliveness Project, you probably remember her hugs. Warm, respectful, always accompanied by a big smile and an ask: “Is a hug okay?”
Michelle brings what she calls “grandma energy,” but behind that gentleness is a fierce and lifelong commitment to people living with HIV. For over ten years, she’s been one of Aliveness’s most dedicated volunteers and champions. She shows up not just as a donor or a board member, but as a friend, a listener, and an advocate for change.
Her journey started as a drug and alcohol counselor in an inpatient treatment center, when she heard someone from the MInnesota AIDS Project speak about HIV. Michelle was deeply moved. She began volunteering, educating others, and eventually joined the Aliveness board, where she’s now served for six years.
Michelle is in long-term recovery — 30 years sober — and brings that lived experience into her work. “I know what it’s like to be doing the best you can, exactly where you’re at,” she says. “That’s why I never judge people who use drugs. I meet them where they are.”
That empathy found a whole new meaning when she began volunteering with Thrivey, Aliveness’s mobile syringe exchange van. “The red van changed me,” she says. “People are moments away from using something unsafe. When I hand someone something sterile, it’s not small. It could save their life. We must must must end homelessness, these are people’s children, these are someone’s siblings, someone gave birth to them.
For Michelle, HIV advocacy is deeply personal. She remembers the shame and misinformation of the 1980s when HIV was wrongly labeled a “gay disease” and people were afraid to speak up. “Back then, I wasn’t a part of the bullying but I wasn’t a part of the sticking up for people either,” she says. “Now I do. We all have to.”
It’s like the great Maya Angelou said, “When we know better we do better.”
“Now I challenge people when they are uninformed. Because I know better, I can definitely do better. I tell people all the time this is not a gay person’s disease, there shouldn’t be stigma! This should be like diabetes.”
Whether she’s gathering snacks for the Thrivey, recruiting ambassadors for Dining Out for Life, or introducing her Shakopee neighbors to the work of Aliveness, Michelle believes in expanding hearts and horizons. “Some people don’t know anyone who’s queer or HIV-positive. It’s an honor to help them meet our community.”She’s brought friends to events like the Red Undie Run including her 80-year-old swim class buddy Sue, who now donates to Aliveness and proudly tells their whole locker room about it. Michelle laughs telling the story, “Sue had the time of her life! She is still facebook friending all these people she met at The Saloon after party, and tells everyone that we both swim with about it.”

Michelle reflects, “It means a lot to me to help people connect. We don’t have to be in the same shoes to care.”
Michelle says there are so many ways you can help Aliveness where you don’t even need to come in person. “I help wherever I go. When I go to pilates, I bring sheets to my class about Aliveness and I explain how many people can benefit just by someone donating a winter coat.”
For the last 4 years Michelle has been giving Pride sermons about her queer son. “The crux of my sermon is how important it is for people to understand that no one wants to be tolerated. Everyone wants to be celebrated.”
Even when Michelle’s mom passed away recently she asked people to give to Aliveness instead of sending her flowers. A selfless act that touched so many people.
“I have no fear anymore saying, “This is important. These people are important. You’re not in the margins. This is my duty now. This is my life calling, I have privilege, I am going to do whatever I can so someone has a better life.”
She’s a frequent donor. A loyal volunteer. A vocal advocate. An active board member. A counselor with her own private practice. The 2024 Lavender Magazine’s Ally of the Year. A mother. A hugger.
But to us, she’s simply Michelle; someone who shows up with everything she’s got and reminds us that building a better world happens one kind word, one van visit, one winter coat, and one conversation at a time.
