Immodest Proposal Day

I’m just gonna copy and paste a 4 year old blog post here, I’m not gonna do much actual writing or work. Why is the Cancer Curmudgeon such a damn broken record? Because people don’t change, won’t GROW THE FUCK UP about breast cancer.

Well, some stuff changed. I’m kinda not raging about No Bra Day here so much as the fact those Facebook secret status games are popping up and annoying people. Not me–most of my FB friends are other cancer patients who hold my views. I’m not being superior–I just don’t make friends easily and my cancer tribe is small, but I love them fiercely. (Y’all know who you are.)

So yeah, I once suggested instead of no bra day how about what cancer really does to breasts day–baring one’s scars I guess some would consider immodest. Not me, I don’t care really.

I re-read this rant and was like, geez, I threw everything but the kitchen sink in here. I even see that I was toying with the warped warrior metaphors in cancer-speak. I don’t think the warrior language commonly used is realistic in actual military sense–but I’ll expand that notion later, I swear, I’ll get around to it soon.

But the 2 things I wanna highlight right now especially those newer in CancerLand–don’t be alarmed by all the women in “awareness” ads with strategically placed arms over their HEALTHY, non-cancer, breasts. Culture demands women be sexy in awareness ads, but women with scars cannot be sexy, they are reduced to being brave-strong-warriors with beatific smiles. Gag. Second thing, there will be a day again this year like last, a reality check day, we are planning, details coming soon. We WILL inject some reality into the fantasy our culture keeps insisting upon.

How About a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day”?

I wasn’t going to write about No Bra Day, because 1) so many other blogs I read have said most of what needs to be said, 2) why should I give it more exposure and attention, and 3) I wrote an overly long, overly wordy piece this summer already, back when there was this other No Bra Day (how many are there?!). The earlier piece, I Don’t Want to See It, is mostly crap I wish I had not written, only the final 5 or so paragraphs are worth reading, and some of the sentiment of those will be repeated here.

I changed my mind because as I started mentally ranting I realized that ignoring it won’t make it go away any more than giving it more attention will (more on this theory, keep reading). It deserves all the outrage that can be had.

Who the hell organizes these No Bra Days? There is no organizational name on that graphic (everyone has seen it I’m sure), so I guess it is just some idea someone passed around on Facebook (sorry, I still cannot have a FB page for personal, non-cancer related reasons, so I’m dim on Facebook things). How the hell does it benefit anyone? Don’t bullshit me and say it raises awareness, especially when the top line of the graphic reads “support breast cancer”. Sounds like the purpose of the day is to increase the incidence of breast cancer—the graphic doesn’t even bother to discuss support for patients in any way. It’s just another excuse to sexualize a disease, and to be childish and talk about boobies. Again.

What I am saying is divisive and angry; I know and do not care. I am so fond of the quote “just because you’re offended, doesn’t mean you’re right,” (Ricky Gervais) and I know that just because this event and the participants offend me, I’m not right. Lots of folks, including breast cancer patients, think all this is just fine, so it is doubtful that this event will cease to exist. But I AM offended and right or wrong, I’m going to gripe about it.

Setting healthy ta-tas “free” doesn’t support this breast cancer patient, again, not that this event even bothers to pretend to support any patients, it is supporting breast cancer, remember? It just reminds me of what cancer did to my breasts, and to other breasts. The scars, the ugliness, the pain and surgery. Need I go on? While I can begrudgingly accept that people who donate or participate in Pink have good hearts even if I hate Pink, I have NO appreciation for anyone involved in No Bra Day. Do NOT expect any gratitude or applause for the participation from me. I’m glad that these women are still healthy, still have breasts unmarred by cancer, but I really do not want to be reminded of what I lost. To those who organized this No Bra Day, I consider you insensitive, thoughtless jerks.

I know this day, the participants, and whoever organized it will get praise from many corners—but a quick scan on Google and other blogs gives evidence of some criticism about this event. I wish there more outrage about it. While I have no hope these days of the Pink machine slowing down, I yearn for more concrete ways to express my extreme dissatisfaction. This No Bra Day is one of the most egregious examples of how a disease has become the plaything of an adolescent, boobies obsessed culture. If I were rich, I’d buy a million very covering and very supportive bras and throw them—well, somewhere, since there is no physical headquarters for this idiotic nonsense. Maybe I’d just scatter them about a big city street, to stop traffic and get everyone to see how at least this one breast cancer patient really feels. Sure, that would just be me throwing a childish tantrum—but the organizers have proven that they are not emotionally or intellectually adult enough to understand the lengthy, smart essays criticizing the event.

Why doesn’t someone come up with a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day”, gathering and presenting all the pictures of so many bloggers (myself included, I would do this) in various stages of lumpectomy/mastectomy, reconstruction or no reconstruction? There are certainly plenty of said pictures on the internet. I get why established groups or projects cannot do this—with establishment comes the need to “play nice”. Being a socially awkward, complaining Curmudgeon—in real life and in the blogosphere—means I seem unable to play nice.

I’m sure many would find a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day” objectionable and offensive (see this is where I can use the Gervais quote to my advantage). But here’s the thing: not wearing bras, or even those “tasteful” Pink ads featuring topless, strategically covered, healthy-breasted models for that matter, do nothing to make anyone understand the reality of breast cancer—other than show off what to those who objectify boobies will be “missing” should cancer afflict any of these women. The current socially acceptable image of breast cancer is the bald-headed woman in a pink t-shirt at a run or walk, smiling and being strong. To me it’s like a sick before and after scenario: women before cancer can be sexy and flaunt naked breasts for cancer awareness, women after breast cancer surgery need to keep covered, need to become unsexy soldiers to admire for bravery, but not to be desired.

Seeing what breast cancer is capable of, and what women who’ve had scarring surgery are capable of, seems more logical and helpful to me. On a personal level, it certainly would’ve helped me when I was recovering from surgery and follow-up radiation, wondering what to do. Instead I saw bikini clad women in ta-ta breast cancer ads, and felt horrible, my emotional wound constantly re-opened.

I loathe the battle language in cancer, as I’ve mentioned often enough throughout my posts. What I hate most is that it is used mainly to blame “soldiers” who’ve “lost their battle with cancer” because they “didn’t fight hard enough.” I rarely see war talk applied in terms of a grand battle plan. Why isn’t it applied here? A good general goes into battle prepared, knowing as much about the enemy as possible—their weapons, strategies, the size and the location of the enemy, and what the enemy does to prisoners. Would it not make sense to show what the “enemy”, breast cancer, does to these “soldier” women? How can this proverbial “battle” be fought if everyone is refusing to acknowledge the “battle scars”? Oh right, we’re not supposed to be victims or prisoners, cancer happens to us, but there should be no lasting mental effects, and no one wants to see the scars (as the summertime fracas with Facebook and the surrounding conversations proved)—we either win or lose, and it’s all on us, even if the weapons (medicine) fail the soldiers, no matter how hard we fight. Yes I’m being sarcastic.

This mass delusion of only showing healthy breasts in regards to breast cancer has got to stop. Yes, it is good to think positive, to dream, and to champion the bright side of life—even if a Cancer Curmudgeon just won’t do that. But to completely ignore the reality, to not face the ugliness or pain cancer brings, I assure everyone, it doesn’t make the ugliness or pain cease to exist. Furthermore, wouldn’t seeing pictures of women ALIVE after scarring surgery be, I don’t know, positive? I remember being told on HuffPo this summer that these scars should not be shown. Hope she never has to go through it, hope she never has to see that ugliness in the mirror, hope she never needs to see my example of one who turned an ugly scar into a triumph.

I prefer to know what I’m up against and I’m tired of a socially acceptable conversation about cancer in which everyone covers their eyes and ears, singing “la la la”, like nothing bad ever happens. Sometimes, ignoring the bad stuff only results in a sucker punch later.

Only three types of people tell the truth: kids, drunk people, and anyone who is pissed the fuck off.” –Richard Pryor

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed. –Nietzsche

No Participation Award For You

I will try not to be harsh when I say to anyone out there doing the silly “awareness” selfies, doffing your bra (groan), or even buying useless products with ribbons, that you are not accomplishing much of anything. And therefore you do not deserve applause, gratitude, or the right to gloat, “I helped.” Stick with me, and I’ll suggest a few ways to rectify this. But first you need to understand what is going on here.

Since I do not have children, I don’t really have an opinion about the ongoing issue of so-called participation trophies or entitlement awards—you know, little do-dads given to kids just for playing a sport, showing up, etc. I am not a sociologist/psychologist, so I only have a vague idea of the effect these awards had on those kids—now adults. Apparently they are unable able to handle disappointment and other life issues, because they no longer get recognition for every little thing they do, successful or not.

Now I must pause to say I do reward myself for the little things, especially these days after cancer. Hey, if I get dressed with matching socks, remember to get something at the store without it being on a list—that is an excuse for a party in my book, thanks to chemo brain. I give myself a mental smiley face sticker for remembering enough of my phone numbers, password codes, and etc. to get through a day. So maybe I’m just as bad here. I don’t know.

That guilty admission out of the way, I am going to criticize the culture of participation awards as I see it in current awareness campaigns. This is an idea that was a mere seed for a long while in my brain, and exploded recently with all the articles written about Wilkinson. I’ve touched on the issue in past posts, so I’m bound to repeat myself here.

(And no, I’m NOT picking on Millennials, I don’t care about that. I’ve seen the “anything for awareness is good no matter how unsavory it is” attitude displayed by people of every generation. So settle down.)

It has been stated many times by my own self and thousands of other cancer social media participants that we have reached awareness of cancer, especially breast cancer. So any time I see “awareness” stunts online, I AM going to call bullshit. True there is still some lack of awareness in under-served communities but I’m not sure a meme is the best way to reach out. If they haven’t become aware with the repeated yearly gimmicks, which only plays to the same target market, they will not now. So shut that shit argument down now.

Now on to the tougher aspect–all those people who react to angry breast cancer patients’ criticism with these standard replies I’ve seen only about a million times in the past few years:

“Maybe we aren’t making anyone aware, but we’re showing our support for you,” (see my post Supporting the Show) which leads to–

“Why are you so ungrateful–we’re doing this for you!! If it weren’t for the pink ribbons and races and yes even the boobies games, we’d still be in the dark ages where no one dared to even say ‘breast cancer’,” (see my post Burden of Gratitude) and sometimes this leads to the nastiest reaction of all–

“If you ungrateful breast cancer negative nancies keep complaining and criticizing how we show support, maybe we’ll just stop supporting you.” Interesting. A threat couched in the message that all support–awareness raising or fund raising–is contingent on the recipients showing gratitude for the crumbs of attention. More proof, as if I needed it, that some people support for self-display, not because it is the right thing to do.

Yes, I said crumbs. Because that is how so much of this makes me feel. That I should be “grateful” for the attention–any attention–my disease gets, even if that attention has not reduced the rate of death, the likelihood that I’ll have a metastatic recurrence. There is a whiff of “take what little you can get and be happy about it” that just unsettles me.

So I ask, how does that braless selfie picture help me–in real, hard, factual terms? Yes, assign it a dollar value. No, I do not want vague explanations of how the spectacle raises the profile of breast cancer, keeps it on people’s minds, so they donate, so politicians assign funding specifically to breast cancer research when federal money is to be granted.

I don’t want the fuzzy intangibles. I want something I can use. I want metsters to NOT die, I want so-called “survivors” (still hate that term), like myself, to have a guarantee that recurrence will NOT happen, and I want future women to NEVER get it. No I don’t think I am asking for too much.

Or in lieu of funding research, how about this? I’ll assign a different value to a selfie, to a bald cap, to a braless day. Instead of one selfie, one trip to the grocery store for your friend in treatment so they don’t have to go out with their compromised immunity. Yes, you’re buying. I trade one bald cap/solidarity head shave for one ride to the treatment appointment at the cancer center. Keep your damn bra on, and go clean her house.

So I revisit the question I asked at the beginning. Am I being harsh? Yes. This is a topic that makes me as angry as I was in October of 2012, having just finished treatment and dealing with depression when the enormity of how awful Pinktober first REALLY hit me (I was never a fan before, and the first 2 Octobers I spent as a resident in CancerLand, I was just overwhelmed with diagnosis and treatment). My, OUR, needs are tangible, and games, gimmicks, and sexualization that isn’t even original is NOT working. So how can anyone expect me to applaud useless gestures, when those gestures won’t guarantee I make it to 50 or 60 years old?

When I see those comments that if we don’t stop complaining about gimmicks that maybe all support will be pulled from under us like a rug, I just…I’m still astonished. We are telling you what we need, what is better, and you will not listen.

Do the tasks I suggested. Or if you want to simply donate money, look up a reputable charity that actually puts money into science rather than marketing more awareness events. You can do it, if you’re reading this, you’re on the internet with information a click away. Start treating charitable giving like investments, like car-buying. Think!

Am I harsh? Yes. Look back on 4 years of this blog and look at what I call myself–what did you expect? Cancer is not a barrel of laughs, neither am I. Why did you think “fighting” it would be one?

The time for coddling the public is over. Awareness is more or less achieved. It is time to graduate school/college, to roll up the sleeves and get to work. To adult. Yes, I find adulting hard too, even now, after having to adult during cancer. But it must be done. We are grown up now. No more games and silly frat party crap.

Children who got participation awards apparently learned a harsh lesson when they entered the workforce, or were even unable to do so because of a bad economy. They learned there was no trophy for trying–but failing–to get that job, or to succeed. Likewise, there is no “you tried” award ribbon for a useless “awareness” gesture. I hate to be over-dramatic or use the hyperbole so often used in cancer slogans. But cancer can, and often does, lead to death. Or at least to a life with some shitty side effects that last FOREVER. It is a zero-sum game for too many. So I don’t have time for someone’s hurt feelings when I point out that taking off a bra doesn’t help us.

Am I harsh? What the hell do you think cancer is?

Tell Your Truth on Oct 1

OK, I’m sure we’ve all seen the return of that damn No Bra Day/Set the Ta-Tas Free Day graphic on our feeds. A week ago I re-shared my old How About a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day”? post because I’m just so sick of it! This sparked a chit chat on Twitter with my friend Annie @barbieslosingit. The chatter grew and here’s an idea:

bcrcsummary2016b

Use #BreastCancerRealityCheck on October 1, Saturday, and let’s get it trending. How often do we roll our eyes and talk about how people just “don’t get it”? Well, let’s make them get it! We CAN talk back to hit back at all these silly memes and games. So LET’S!

Addendum: WE HEARD YOU! No, we do NOT wish to hijack September, the month devoted to other cancers (such as ovarian). The pink ribbon bully already does that! So let’s use the first day of Pinktober to get the REAL truth about breast cancer out!!

One Way to Talk Back

Special thanks to @barbieslosingit and @bbccww for all their efforts with this!!

Supporting The Show?

Weariness and fatigue will make me do anything, I suppose. Last October I voiced frustrations I had with a few words and phrases, like “awareness”, “show support/support breast cancer”, and every single slang word in existence for breasts (Some Word Problems). In that post I mentioned that part of the reason I disliked “show support” was because it always seemed like some people were more about the “show” portion of that phrase, rather than the “support” part. The post was about being tired of hearing those words and phrases to the point that they had lost meaning for me, so I did not want to delve into what really bugs me about “showing support”. Plus, I was afraid my thoughts were too harsh to be shared.

If I’m harsh, so what?

This time of year, the ads and pleas to go bald (whether for real or wearing a shower cap thingie) or do some Pink thing to show support for “sisters” with breast cancer overload my senses via many forms of media. I understand that many people succumb to these ads and buy a silly trinket, wear a t-shirt, or put a sticker on a car, with good intentions, with good hearts. They think by being public with their caring about their friend/relative with breast cancer will please that person. And maybe it does please some patients. But not me.

I wrote about my frustration with all the head-shaving-in-solidarity a couple of years ago. I still think it is rather useless compared to acts like cooking for a patient, or simply listening to a patient’s many fears. I remember around the time I wrote that post there was a small kerfuffle about some young girl getting sent home from her school for shaving her head to show support for her bald friend with cancer (it violated some dress code). So much outrage in social media about it—so much praise for the bravery of the head-shaver; the girl with cancer wasn’t mentioned much. While I think it is great kids show empathy, I could not help but think that scenarios like that teach future adults at a young age that the “show” is the most important aspect. Yes, I am a cynic—read other posts on this blog!

Now, before anyone starts howling at me; YES I know there is no one way to do cancer and I have no right to criticize those embracing Pink while expecting respect for rejecting Pink (not going down THAT road today, but see Reciprocity and Respect). And YES, as stated above, I know that many people wish to show support with the best of intentions, thinking it is the right thing to do, as it is so socially acceptable and all.

But why is it socially acceptable—why is there this ongoing trend of advertising oh so publicly: “I CARE, I HELPED”? And no, this is not an issue limited to cancer.

I actually began noticing this well before I got cancer. Working in the non-profit sector and managing volunteers, I saw how frequently volunteers expected a little “prize” for their contributed time and efforts. I especially noticed the same volunteers wanting the same t-shirt emblazoned with the word “volunteer”, year after year. I knew they must have a couple from previous years; wearing those would’ve helped my budget—because while the shirts were cheap, they were not free. (Contrary to popular belief, businesses are not tripping over themselves to donate to the many, many non-profits in existence, all with outstretched hands: “please give”.) But I thought back then, cruelly perhaps, that some people really liked showing off: “look I helped!”

And yes I point the finger at myself too. Many years ago I would participate in a walk for a local animal shelter, and there were the usual t-shirts and other “prizes” for money collected. I wore my t-shirt proudly—“look, I raised money, I’m a good person!” But as years wore on and I had less disposable income, I began to resent when national animal organizations would send t-shirts and notepads to entice me back into giving donations. It was money wasted; I don’t have the money, and the dollars buying “prizes” should’ve been used for sheltered animal care. But perhaps the t-shirts were donated and I should not complain (and they may have gotten a discount for mailing that stuff out, but it was not free, in my limited experience, the USPS does not do freebies).

You can kind of get the picture as to how I got cynical about showing “I helped”, right?

This cynical view has been confirmed many times over now that I reside in CancerLand. I especially noticed it a couple of summers ago when some centerfold models jumped out of airplanes topless—you know, setting boobies really free—for awareness. When criticized, one of the models/participants protested back and the usual “you should be grateful we’re doing this for you” finger-wagging, and the “my (insert relative here) had breast cancer and she has/had no problem with this type of thing”, comments left everywhere ensued. I noticed it again more recently this past summer, with the soda bottle incident. The reactions by the porn organization that instigated the stunt to the outcry directed at them were almost laughable. It’s so clear at times like these that applause for all this “support” being showcased is expected. How is that NOT about self-display?

I was relieved last year to learn I was not the only person who looks at all the instances of setting ta-tas free (with a selfie to document the act), or just plain old wearing of slogan-saturated apparel, with some cynicism. I ran across an interview (transcript) about all the “Boston Strong” t-shirts that were the item to wear on the anniversary of the deadly marathon incident. Here was the part that caught my ear:

SMITH: Dobens says getting the shirt is as important to people as giving the donation.

DOBENS: It has this idea of, like, I have proof now that I helped. I can show people that I really, really care about the people that I’m helping.

JOSEPH BURGO: It’s hard not to get cynical about this stuff.

SMITH: Psychologist and author Joseph Burgo says he understands the underlying feelings of solidarity and defiance. But he can’t help but cringe at people feeling that their every sentiment has to be tweeted or posted or literally, worn on their sleeve.

BURGO: I mean, why wear anything? You know, I think that there’s a kind of a feeling that unless you share your experience with other people – like, it isn’t entirely real to you unless you announce it to other people. It’s just part of this narcissistic culture of ours, where everything is about self-display.

SMITH: It’s almost as if people are using the Boston Strong brand to brand themselves, which raises a whole other concern; that Boston Strong is not actually a brand, and isn’t trademarked. So anyone can sell it whether or not any money goes to charity
That last bit about where does the money go—that wouldn’t sound familiar now, would it? Yes, being sarcastic.

Of course, I must consider the power of The Show. Seeing a sea of people wearing pink t-shirts is a strong visual statement: “wow, lots of people have to deal with breast cancer, we better do something about it, because it must be a huge problem”. And then public perception and pressure follow and that is how charities start raising money, and politicians start granting funds for research. I’m sure politicians want to “show” they are doing something (don’t get me started there). Seeing a sea of pink reminds women of how common the cancer is—better get that mammogram! (Otherwise known as “awareness”). I see the big picture, and understand the power of the movement.

But I still cannot help but wonder if something got lost along the way.

Many other bloggers and journalists have written extensively about how buying that feel-good pink-drenched item really doesn’t result in much money going where it can be useful. It’s pointless for me to repeat information that is easy to find, especially since most readers of this blog already know what I’m talking about.

And truly, I’m not trying to hit out at everyone—cancer patients or not—who wears Pink slogans or slaps them on cars. In fact, I’ve been wondering if now “self-display” will be lobbed at those of us who’ve posted pictures of our scars in a retaliation of sorts to crap like no bra day. I see more and more mainstream articles featuring women baring scars with or without non-cosmetic tattoos. While personally I hope to provide solace for those facing the same surgery, and to combat the “sexy” campaigns, I’m sure some would say it is “showing off”. I’m still on the fence about this, and beginning to contemplate removing my pictures for the “show off” aspect, as well as a few other reasons (see Random Thoughts On Baring the Scars).

Do I have the solution for this? Of course not—I never do. I am merely pointing out that for me it was easy to become cynical about “The Showing of Support”. I seriously doubt I will ever think head-shaving in solidarity is useful, especially compared to activities like cooking or cleaning for a patient—you know, regular, grunt work that doesn’t make for a good photo-op. Personally I did not have to endure any incidents of having someone do something personally more of a “show” when I would’ve required more of that someone, but I’m sure others do have such stories (feel free to share those incidents in comments). And while I cringe when I see the sea of pink and all it represents to me (see Take the Mythical Image of the Strong Warrior Breast Cancer Survivor And Bury HER Once & For All), I understand the power of that image.

I wonder if society will ever get to a point when we can stop supporting the show.

What Is The Real Battle Here?

For all the battle language that I still loathe in cancer, I can’t help but employ it when it comes to this. How can we “fight” the presentation of breast cancer as sexy fun times (the latest being the Komen dogs, but I mean the Coppafeel crap and the ill-advised Young Survivor bracelet thing too)? Is it worth a “war”? I used to think it was worth starting up a “battle”; I’m a bit less sure these days. But here is a post, or a suggestion (?) I had two years ago. Mostly, it is me trying to explain why sexualized cancer hurts. But these days I despair of making anyone understand. But for what it is worth–another re-run: