Earlier this year I was a little grossed out to log on to Facebook and read what appeared to be a brief description of the places where a good portion of my female friends, relatives, and coworkers liked to get it on. After being subjected to a few days of status updates like “On the kitchen island” (very unsanitary) and “the bottom drawer” (look at you and your Cirque du Soleil ass) I finally received a “useful” message letting me in on the secret: it was my friends, telling me where they keep their handbags at night, and it was all being done in the name of breast cancer awareness.
There have actually been several different versions of this “campaign”. In addition to purse storage, there was the “What color is your bra?” game, meant to fool all of those sex crazed guys out there into thinking the woman folk banded together and decided to tell them what color panties they had on. Or something. I’ve never participated, don’t disparage those who have, and in the past I’ve just kind of watched it happen and moved on. If it makes a few breast cancer patients or survivors feel supported or remembered, it serves a purpose. I don’t happen to think that Facebook statuses (oh, how I wish the word were statusi) are any match for cancer, but I am neither a breast cancer survivor nor a Facebook fiend.
As of today, my apathy on this practice no longer stands. I’ve seen several different versions of this email that went around to tons ‘o women on Facebook–copied, pasted, and modified in various ways. This one happens to be from Undomesticated Housewife, who wrote a really great piece on the subject:
Hey!! This is what its about…Ok pretty ladies, it’s that time of year again, in support of breast cancer awareness!! So we all remember last years game of writing your bra color as your status?…..or the way we like to have our handbag handy? Remember last year so many people took part that it made national news and, the constant updating of status reminded everyone why we’re doing this and helped raise awareness!! Do NOT tell any males what the status’ mean, keep them guessing!! And please copy and paste (in a message )this to all your female friends to see if we can make a bigger fuss this year than last year!!! I did my part… now YOUR turn! Go on ladies…and let’s have all the males guessing! … It’s time to confuse the men again (not that its really that hard to do :)) Everyone knows it makes their brains work wonders on what we’re talking about!! The idea is to choose the month you were born and the day you were born. Pass this on to the girls only and lets see how far it reaches around. The last one about the bra went round all over the world. So you’ll write… I’m (your birth month) weeks and I’m craving (your birth date)!!! as your status. Example: Feb 14th= I’m 2 weeks and craving Chocolate mints!!
To say I object to this little plan would be cutting things short. I have many objections.
No one–and I repeat no one–is ever indifferent about pregnancy. It’s typically met with one of three reactions: Elation, Uncertainty, or Terror. With the exception of the Duggars and their ilk, no one ever says, “What the hell? Throw another baby on the pile” and even the Duggars’ reaction is an intense one. They have been blessed by God with (yet another) child, and that is some intense stuff for them. You see, pregnancies aren’t usually all that funny and will always elicit an intense reaction. Saying “I’m pregnant! Just kidding” is one of the more effective ways I can think of to get someone to mentally punch you in the face.
“It’s time to confuse the men again (not that it’s really that hard to do).” Hee hee hee, ho ho ho…Stop! “Guys are so useless” humor gets me every time. I never tire of the email forwards offering a laundry list of things men are inept at, or the t shirts, bumper stickers, or shot glasses claiming that nothing will ever be said, done, or wiped correctly unless a woman does it. This isn’t about him forgetting to unload the dishwasher or pick up his socks. It’s cancer. Because women have boobs, somehow men and boys aren’t impacted by breast cancer. No man has ever loved a woman–a mother, a wife, an aunt, a daughter–who has suffered from this disease. No man has ever been diagnosed with breast cancer himself. Sorry guys, having boobs just makes us want to get sexist and all practical jokey.
Finally, I’ve seen enough women suffer from infertility to know that every new pregnancy announcement stings a little. In no way does this mean that she isn’t excited for her friend or acquaintance, it just is what it is. Kind of like ordering the onion blossom and a slice of fried lard cheesecake in front of your girlfriend on the 1500 calorie a day plan, except loaded with the billion or so emotions connected to having and raising children. There’s a reason all of us cellulite-typical women want to set something on fire when we’re reading the new Glamour and yet another celebrity takes the time to go on and on about how she’s just “naturally thin” or “eats absolutely everything and never gains a pound”. The majority of women who are interested in it know that nothing’s fair in fertility, but making a joke of “oops” pregnancies when you’re someone who had no trouble conceiving isn’t funny, it’s called being a dick. And, lest we forget, one of the biggest burdens on women who *do* survive cancer is the fact that conception afterward can be an uphill battle at best and impossible at worst. Oops.
Let me be clear and say that I’m not knocking on anyone who tried this game or did it because someone close to her is fighting or fought a diagnosis. Cancer is a disease that makes us all feel pretty helpless, and I completely understand the urge to do something–anything–to let the world know you care. I know that helplessness. The intent doesn’t bother me, it’s the execution.
I am already very much “aware” of breast cancer, and so is a favorite relative of mine who is just starting treatment. But I am also aware of the fact that in order to put an end to it, we need solutions that serve and include everyone. Free or low cost mammograms and reminders plus affordable, accessible health care and preventative services for all would be a start. Why can’t we use Facebook to demand that? There’s a bad joke I’d tell for the greater good. Until then, maybe we can all remember there are a few things we don’t goof on (or goof on only with great care): pregnancy, coffee shortages, and…cancer.
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