Cancer Candy

At the end of October I was in a huge home improvement store with my daughter, and we noticed that Christmas decorations, ornaments and displays were already out in full force and had taken over half the garden department. We walked past three-foot-tall lighted garden decorations featuring frogs and chickens holding sparkly candy canes and wearing tinseled Santa hats. We marveled at the unseasonable earliness of the display and the nontraditional symbolism of it all. Then we were stopped dead in our tracks by sparkly bright pink forest creatures. As we drew closer to the Barbie-pink-colored nearly life-sized buck and doe covered in pink fairy lights we noted the store's signs that proclaimed them to be KOMEN BUCK and KOMEN DOE. Sure enough, the big pink breast cancer awareness ribbon and the logo of the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation were emblazoned on their boxes for all to see, assuring would-be pink deer owners that their holiday lawn decorations, like nearly everything else available for sale in the United States nowadays, could now be constant reminders of cancer.

Throughout the month of October each year, I am used to seeing special pink editions of everything under the sun marketed to encourage breast cancer awareness, from perishables like M&Ms to $300 kitchen mixers that will last for thirty years or more. Once there were pink T-shirts, hats and stickers available to those who have endured breast cancer or been touched by it when those they loved were afflicted and were fighting, or had lost the fight. Then already-pink items produced for the female market such as lipsticks and perfumes were sold in special editions during October, which was officially designated Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Now there are cell phone charms, socks, jewelry of all sorts, newborn baby onesies, special edition designer purses, teas, dishes, staplers, towels (even Terrible Towels), helmets, yoga mats, pushpins, even specialty fabrics like flannel and fleece, so you can sew up your own breast-cancer-reminder jammies, blankets, pillows and scarves in case you can't find every single thing you might want to eat, apply, wear or use pre-stamped with a pink ribbon logo or wrapped in Komen-emblazoned shrinkwrap all year long, everywhere you go.

I understand the original mission of the Komen Foundation, and the desire to promote awareness of a cancer that used to be hidden and whispered about by women who were embarrassed to draw attention to their breasts. I applaud the desire to raise money to get millions of women to watch for signs of illness, to be aware of risk factors and to avoid behaviors that could lead to increased risk of cancer. I am delighted that they have raised millions of dollars for research into the causes and possible cures for this horrible disease. The diagnosis can be wrenching, the treatment terrifying, the waiting excruciating, the physical and emotional pain intolerable. I have lost loved ones to cancer, including breast cancer, and I agree wholeheartedly that helping people to avoid it or make it go away is a wonderful idea.

What I do not like is the assumption that blanketing the world with reminders of cancer is an appropriate or effective way of dealing with our fear of a disease which, despite our throwing more money at it than just about any other disease, is not affecting fewer women despite all our efforts but is increasing at an alarming rate. I understand why a woman who has been fighting breast cancer or whose life has been touched by it would want to let people know so that they could give her encouragement and be reminded to be vigilant so that they would not end up in her shoes. I can see wanting to show solidarity for those who have fought or lost the fight. But to want constant reminders of a devastating disease all over one's house, one's body, one's garden, one's canned goods, one's ears, one's cupcakes, one's Christmas tree or one's menorah is, to me, disturbing.

Some call this constant swathing of the world in baby-girl pink a desire to celebrate life; I believe it is an effort to totemize these pink items as if they were charms so that they might ward off cancer. See, you bad cancer! We're not afraid of saying your name and drawing attention to you! We'll hang cancer streamers (from the party store), float mylar cancer balloons (from Safeway), put out the breast cancer Kleenex, use the special cancer edition disposable Swiffer cloths, eat the Campbell's chicken noodle soup from the pink can, and serve breast cancer ribbon-bedecked Hershey's Kisses and drink cancer-awareness-labeled wine (both of which increase our cancer risk: increased body fat and moderate alcohol consumption significantly increase the likelihood that a woman will be diagnosed with breast cancer). That will show you, cancer! We'll use hair colorants and shampoos with ingredients proven to be carcinogenic, but we'll feel good about it because the Komen logo is on the box, even when there's nothing on the packaging saying that any portion of the proceeds from the product will benefit the Komen Foundation. We'll buy fatty snacks with pink ribbons on them and feel good that we just did something important to end cancer, when actually the company will make a huge profit by using pink packaging that tricks shoppers into feeling like eating their chips will save the world, then may pay only a tiny portion of the proceeds (sometimes less than a penny per unit sold) to an organization which actually does something to help women or men with breast cancer, or which helps people not to get it in the first place.

Cancer candy, shoes, spaghetti sauce and mouth guards constantly remind everyone with and without the disease of the existence of cancer in the cutest, pinkest, girliest fashion, until we become completely inured to it. Many women fetishize the color pink; some coyly post Facebook status updates with the colors of their bras because they somehow believe that making sexual innuendoes and encouraging people to imagine our breasts in lingerie will certainly lower the incidence of a vile disease that maims and damages and hurts and kills those we love. How?

Getting more women to pay attention to changes in their breasts and believe in the importance of regular mammograms results in more cancer diagnoses, but the increase in breast cancer cases over the past three decades is clearly correlated to other factors as well, including diet, alcohol use and environment. This is the information we need to spread. Is this information getting out there as much as it should, or does it get washed away in the tide of pink-packaged Pepperidge Farm partially hydrogenated cookies and rosy-hued Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets?

Part of the huge increase in breast cancer diagnoses over the past two decades is because of increased awareness and treatment, it's true; partly it's because diseases of affluence, like obesity, have seen a shocking increase over the past few decades, and they also increase the risk of breast cancer. And partly, well, we just don't know; we don't understand why breast cancer is rising, and why the Pacific Northwest, where I live, has an especially high number of incidents of breast cancer. It may be because vitamin D deficiency is extremely common here because of the frequently overcast skies, and such a deficiency is correlated with increased risk. But there seems to be more than that. Should we do more research? Sure! But should we think we're doing our part because we buy pink Komen deer lawn ornaments from the Lowe's garden department?

Don't all of these product tie-ins raise huge amounts of money for research or awareness? Some have, and that's great. But did you ever notice that may products sport pink labels but give no specific information about how much of your purchase price will go to charity? That can mean a particular purchase can net $5 for a good cause, or 5¢, or nothing at all. Sometimes a company will pledge a set amount from the sale of every package, say 50¢ from each sale, up to a total amount, like $10,000. So, after they've sold 20,000 packages, they keep all the proceeds from every package sold thereafter. If they print a half-million pink bags that make people feel better about the company and encourage consumers to pay full price for their wares because of the feel-good factor, they can make a huge profit from their supposed largess.

Is this bad? It does raise some money for a good cause, but the public is often misled regarding how much. If consumers feel they've already done their part in the fight against cancer because they bought three pink-labeled snacks, some dish soap and a bottle of nail polish, all of which actually provided a grand total of 30¢ to charity, one can argue that being misled into thinking that one has done enough is not good for society.

The Komen Foundation is extremely marketing driven, but according to Charity Navigator, a research organization which publishes statistics about thousands of charities and their incomes, expenditures and effectiveness, the Komen Foundation is well run. It is not, however, the only organization which benefits breast cancer research or encourages awareness. Other top-rated breast cancer charities with lower overhead than the Komen Foundation include the Breast Cancer Research Foundation (which also puts its logos on and benefits from sales of many products), Living Beyond Breast Cancer, the National Breast Cancer Foundation and the Breast Cancer Network of Strength.

You can also donate directly to research institutions like the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, which does groundbreaking cancer research and works with the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance to provide treatment to thousands of people each year. If you have difficulty with the idea of giving to an organization which does some of its testing on animals, you can direct your gifts toward divisions of the organization which do not do research but provide treatment, or choose an organization that focuses on awareness instead of research, or you can donate to any of the wonderful hospice organizations around the country. They do remarkable work alleviating pain and providing comfort for those with terminal diseases. They give great aid to their families, friends and caregivers as well.

Should you give up on buying things with pretty pink ribbon emblems? Not if you already like those products and you like the color pink. But purchasing them won't confer immunity to cancer or buy you good karma points; your pink items aren't totems that will save you or those you love, nor do they provide as much funding to anti-cancer charities as most people think they do. What does help? Healthy living, regular screening and donating directly to or volunteering at good organizations. Also important is helping those you know with cancer (or any serious illness) by telling them you'd like to bring a meal (or meals), babysit, clean house or do other chores for them, and mean it. Rather than asking "Can I do anything?" try to offer something specific. See if they really want it (maybe they don't need what you're offering) and then ask when it would be most helpful instead of doing it on your schedule, which may not work with theirs. Provide reading material, movies or company (if they want it) to distract them during treatment. If you have time, let them know you'd be happy to to take them to radiation or chemo appointments. Offer encouragement often so they don't feel forgotten or alone; people with long-term illnesses or extended treatments suffer when people get compassion fatigue and stop checking in. These small but meaningful actions will go a lot further than buying a new pair of pink breast cancer awareness sweatpants.