Wherever I can lend my celebrity to help raise AIDS awareness, I’m there,” says Deborah Cox. And she means it! Whether she’s performing on Broadway in Aida, recording her soulful voice for her next CD, or working on a movie set, Deborah has enthusiastically leapt from benefit to benefit. To name a few: Divas: Simply Singing!, ShowStoppers, Nelson Mandela SOS, and Broadway Cares. At the M•A•C Viva Glam fundraiser, Deborah earned her reputation as a dazzling fashion diva as she strutted her designer threads down the runway.

“As I do more benefits, I’m more hopeful that we’re gonna find a cure, but it just seems like…,” she pauses for a moment, then continues. “Millions and millions of dollars are being raised. I don’t understand why we can’t find a cure for this thing,” Deborah exhales loudly. She’s frustrated. “It makes me think deeply about the situation. There seems to be so much corruption going on with the drug companies that I wonder if they’re just keeping people [sick] to sell drugs. And government doesn’t seem to care. It’s all about the dollar. There are millions of people dying who can’t get medication,” Cox insists with heartfelt passion from her home on this wintry Florida day. “It’s really appalling.”

Thirty-one-year-old Cox was raised in Toronto, Canada, along with her two sisters by her Guyanese mother and the man she calls “father,” though he’s not her biological dad (she’s never met him). As a child, Deborah listened to Billie Holiday, Al Green, and Gladys Knight. But it was Gladys Knight who truly influenced her. She attended parochial school until the eighth grade, excelling in journalism and track and field. At eleven, she won a local talent contest, which led to work singing commercial jingles. Several years later, she began performing till the wee hours in clubs while still attending a performing arts school. (Being underage, her mother had to write a letter giving Deborah permission.)

Cox was playing gigs around Toronto when she met up with Lascelles Stephens who was to become her co-songwriter, bassist (on several videos), and is presently her husband and manager. Together they worked on Deborah’s demo tape, and shopped it around, despite multiple rejections. Around this time, she auditioned and landed the job of backup singer for Celine Dion. At one concert, Deborah caught the eye and ear of world-renowned producer, Clive Davis, who signed her to a contract. Her debut album was released in 1995 (Deborah and Lascelles wrote three of the CD’s tracks). Some of her hits include, “Sentimental,” “The Sound of My Tears,” “We Can’t Be Friends,” and “Nobody’s Supposed To Be Here.” In 2000, Cox recorded a duet with Whitney Houston on Houston’s greatest hits album (“Whitney was an idol of mine, so singing with her was a dream come true.”)

Though basically an R&B singer, Deborah sprinkles her songs with bits of pop and soul. Her wide vocal range and smooth delivery are now her trademarks. The new millennium saw Cox becoming a hit at the clubs when DJs remixed her singles. For the gay community, her songs became the anthems of the season. Her accolades include eight number-one Billboard Hot Dance Music/Club Play singles, an American Music Award nomination for Best New R&B Vocalist, Lady of Soul Award for Best R&B/Soul Song of the Year, and several Junos (Canada’s music awards). Deborah’s diamond-cut voice has an international following, and she is presently in the studio working on her fifth album. She recently contributed a track to the soundtrack of Hotel Rwanda. Several years ago, Cox branched out into the acting world, winning roles on TV’s Nash Bridges and Soul Food, and in the film Love Come Down. She will be seen in the upcoming drama, Blood of the Champion. On this day, the reporter found Ms. Cox taking a much-needed rest from a very busy year. She’s a bit shy, yet Deborah is gracious, unpretentious, and opinionated. 

AIDS first entered Deborah’s life in the mid-eighties, when a dancer friend from her performing arts school days died. Soon after, another friend died. Distressed and aggravated, she quickly began educating herself on the virus, eventually connecting with World Vision (she hosted its telethon), a Christian relief agency that helps children and families worldwide. Founded in 1950 by Dr. Bob Pierce, World Vision operates in over one hundred countries, offering AIDS-prevention programs in several of them, including Uganda. In 1999, Cox traveled to Uganda with World Vision, and the following year she toured Mozambique. “I was completely overwhelmed by the amount of damage and destruction that this disease has done to people,” she says softly. “It has left these four- and five-year-old children orphans. It’s completely wiped out generations. At first, I cried because it was so overwhelming, but they don’t want you to feel remorse for them. They’re dealing with it, so they’d rather see you happy.” While visiting a community of stricken women, Deborah developed courage to overcome her emotional feelings of pity. Since the women only spoke in their native tongue, Deborah would communicate by singing to them. “It was so inspiring for me,” she recalls thoughtfully. The manager of World Vision Canada, Jim Rawn, agrees: “The thing that touched us most about Deborah’s trip to Mozambique and South Africa was how humbled she was by the experience. She could not understand how a small sacrifice for her could mean life or death for someone in the developing world.”

Having witnessed the devastation, Deborah carried her experiences back home. “Oh, man,” she sighs, “It’s easy for people to talk about AIDS at arm’s length, but it’s not until you actually hold someone in your arms who’s three days away from death, or you look into the eyes of a child who has lost his parents that you truly understand the tragedy. The spirit in their eyes is still so filled with life but their body is just lifeless. It’s sad.” She takes a deep breath. “AIDS is in everyone’s community, and so it’s everyone’s fight. It’s not just Africans who are dying; it could be your next-door neighbor. People don’t realize just how close to home the virus really is. Once I saw what this disease could do to a person, I knew I needed to do whatever I could to lend my name and talent to the battle. When people see my face, I want them to think of AIDS. I want people to understand the necessity of condoms.”

Indeed, Deborah is a firm believer in protected sex. “You can’t tell people to abstain. We are living in a world where sex sells and hormones drive everyone. How can you tell people not to have sex?!” she laughs, as she politely munches on kettle chips. “Absolutely use a condom. This is your life. You die from this disease!”

But how do we trumpet this message when AIDS doesn’t make the headlines much anymore? “There certainly needs to be more public awareness but people are still too focused on AIDS being a gay disease. This is denial,” Deborah says pointedly, clearing her throat. “We need more literature, the CDC statistics need to be circulated more, and we need more PSAs to let people know that anyone can be infected. Again, we need to put a face on AIDS; show people what AIDS looks like. AIDS is not just the gay man—AIDS is the black woman, AIDS is the white man, and AIDS is the African child.”  

Recently, Deborah was reading AIDS statistics in Essence magazine that claimed African-American women have the highest new infection rate. What does she think of that? “Culturally there are a lot of black men who are on the down low. I think that is a part of it. Promiscuous guys are going out having unprotected sex, and they return to their wives and infect them. I also think in the black community that there’s still a lot of hush-hush about being gay. Not a lot of people are coming out. It’s still a stigma. Stop with the judgment!” she announces fervently. “Leave that to God. Love is the way to reach out, not condemnation.” At eighteen, Cox became a Christian but she explains that she is not doctrinaire. “A lot of people ask me, ‘As a Christian you have so many gay friends?’ And I say, ‘Yes, because I love people, and I treat people the way I want to be treated.’ God created us all. I’m not here to judge.”

At this point, Deborah informs me that in the near-future she plans to become involved with assisting those who need medication. “I want to give them the opportunity to receive the drugs so it can help extend their lives. I know these drugs are expensive, but there should be some provisions for people who really can’t afford them. They need to get help, and I want to see to it.”

Despite her efforts, Cox is not completely altruistic. You see, she has a selfish motive. She has a one-year-old son, Isaiah, and she’s alarmed about what kind of world her son will live in. Having experienced firsthand the ravages of the disease, she wants to protect her son and her son’s friends from such a fate. “I hope parents talk to their kids about AIDS prevention, but I presume some won’t because of the stigma attached to the disease. That’s what has to change. The. Face. Of. AIDS. Has. To. Change,” she says deliberately, emphasizing each word as if it were its own sentence. “Everybody can get AIDS!”

Go face-to-face with Deborah on her community-based Web site, www.deborahcox.com.

Deborah Cox’s makeup by Don Michael Lowery; hair by Thomas C. Zeigler.

Dann Dulin interviewed Ron Reagan for the December 2004 issue.