Beyond Pink: The recognition of why Breast Cancer Awareness Month is more than wearing pink

Dec. 22, 2015.

There were at least six inches of snow on the ground and it was pitch black, yet the white snow still lit up the dark night.

I remember sledding with my brother until we could hardly feel our fingers from the biting cold — then we went inside and sat by the fire, concerned about nothing but who was making the next mug of hot chocolate.

My oldest brother was having his birthday party that night. He and his friends ran around our house and ate their pizza dinner, our house warm from the laughter of my siblings. That was, until everyone left, and my parents’ faces turned stern. This was the night they would tell us the news.

That night they told me my mom had breast cancer. I was 8 years old.

This is why I wear pink.

Smiles were instantly wiped away until I started sobbing, followed by my brother. For 30 minutes we sat and tried to comprehend the daunting news.

A year of reconstruction surgery for my mom, a year of not being able to focus at school on surgery days, a year of anxious bouts that wouldn’t seem to let up.

A year later, all these feelings resurfaced when my aunt was diagnosed.

This is why I wear pink.

Each October, while everyone’s main concern is what they’ll dress up as for Halloween, I’m constantly reflecting on what my family went through that fateful year. Throughout the month, I’m constantly reminded not only of what my mom and aunt went through, but the 264,000 people diagnosed with breast cancer per year according to the CDC.

Every October I see merchandise for breast cancer. Pink scarves decorated in dark pink ribbons alongside headbands and hats. I see profit, not awareness. Retailers are turning my family’s struggle into income.

Why is pink more than just a color?

Pink is hospital visits on school nights. Pink is spending my mom’s birthday on our couch because she was so exhausted after surgery. Pink is meals brought from other families who know there are days when my mom didn’t get out of bed.

Pink isn’t just a football game theme or a ribbon on a billboard. It’s fighters, it’s survivors, it’s a community.

It’s for my mom who had sleepless nights worrying she wouldn’t make it. It’s for my aunt who lost all of her hair. It’s for the warriors of breast cancer.

The emotional impact on those who’ve experienced breast cancer’s effects firsthand is what makes pink more than just a color to wear to events for one month out of the year to “show support.”

Fundraising, supporting families around you, and being there for others are some of the best ways to show support. Without the help from other families and friends, we would’ve been lost in 2015.

That’s why I’m upset when I hear someone say, “Wait, it’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month?” Because I’m still the third grader sitting beside my mom’s hospital bed, squeezing her hand.