This week on Facebook, one word color statuses popped up on many a lady’s wall. Most likely, this took place after receiving a message from a friend, outlining a plan to post the color of your bra in support of breast cancer awareness. It was also supposed to be fun, give guys a bit of grief, and hopefully go viral.
Since everyone seems to be talking about it, I think it was a success.
Was it a fundamentally sound activism campaign? Nope. Was it meant to be? Nope. This is why I find op-ed pieces blasting the event (such as NPR All Tech Considered) to be a bit silly.
I have seen breast cancer firsthand many times. It started when I was thirteen with my great-grandmother, and it goes as recent as my mother-in-law last year. It runs on both sides of our family, and it has convinced me to “Race for the Cure”, “Relay for Life” and contribute time and energy to the fundraising campaign, “Horizon of Hope”. If you consider all of the people I know who have been affected by a loved one with breast cancer in the past few years, well, the number seems egregious. I know I’m not alone, and I know that more and more of my friends and associates will be affected by this disease.
I posted my bra color on my status feed. Call me crazy.
Of the wars waged on breast cancer I have witnessed, one story has really stuck with me. K worked the Horizon of Hope campaign. For many of us, her dedication and effort to the campaign made our level of commitment look cursory, at best. And then, a few years ago, the call tree was activated. K was going to be out of commission for a few weeks. Maybe more. We weren’t sure what was going to happen, but we needed to be prepared to take over some of her duties. K had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She would need surgery, radiation, maybe more.
Come to find out, our concern was mostly unwarranted. K dedicated MORE time to the campaign while ill. She was at the planning meetings, she was still collecting donations, etc.
We hosted a luncheon every summer with fashion show, silent auction, product displays, professionals and survivors speaking. We were sitting around making goodie bags or something, one evening, just days before the big event. There were ten of us. K stopped, teared up, and said, “Breast cancer affects 1 out every 10 women. I am that one woman here.”
That will always stick with me. But how do I post THAT on my Facebook status?
Breast cancer can affect women and men. It can affect women in their twenties. It is not a disease for older women; it is a disease that can be present in all women. Sometimes a woman knows of her family’s history with the disease. Sometimes she receives genetic counseling to understand her risk. Most of the time, however, she gives it little thought until her diagnosis.
If the color of our bras convinced just 10 women (out of the thousands and thousands that posted) to learn more or to do a monthly self exam, well, then we may have just saved a woman’s life. If we convinced just a few more people to contribute to campaigns, or to raise funds, well, maybe it will be their dollars that find the cure.
No matter how silly the methods, saving one person is worth the hullabaloo, to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment