Why I’m Not Running For The Cure This Year
At this time in years past, this blog has been adorned with pink badges and pleas for money. I was very successful in raising funds from my generous friends. But this year, I’m not doing it. Here’s why.
Everything I wrote in the blog post I linked to above is completely true. I am very grateful that my friend Holly was able to get a double mastectomy and reconstruction. I am very grateful that my mother found her lump in time to be able to live almost twenty years afterwards (and then die of something else). It’s a tragedy that my son’s yearbook is filled with motherless kids, because there’s a mini-epidemic of breast cancer going on in my community.
But I can’t stand the pink anymore.
I’ve mentioned in previous blogs how uncomfortable I am with the amount of pinkwashing going on. Everybody and his brother sticks a pink ribbon on their product, and we, the consumers, have no way of knowing how much of that money actually goes to help cancer patients.
The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation says:
Our Cost of Fundraising
The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation is dedicated to finding the optimal balance between dollars invested in grants and other cause-related work, and dollars spent on fundraising and other necessary expenditures. Our goal is to maximize our cause-related spending.
The Foundation’s cost of fundraising is 35.8%. Our fundraising costs are on par with most other charities of the similar size, scope and fundraising focus.
This makes me feel ashamed that I accepted gifts in the past as a reward for being such a good fundraiser. I’m sure those gifts (a nice gym bag, a gift certificate to The Running Room, even a lovely pink pearl pendant that I treasure) came out of that 35.8%.
This month is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I’ve been spreading the word about my friend’s son (who is now officially engrafted! Yay!), about supporting CancerCare Manitoba. I will continue to do all of these things.
Last year I enjoyed my run very much, and I enjoyed the swag bag and the t-shirt and the music and the balloons and all the rest of it. I love the running tights I was able to get for cheap at The Running Room (where nothing is cheap). I don’t regret any of those things. But I can’t do them anymore.
I will donate directly to the various body-part societies (my friend Tina is campaigning for The Canadian Liver Foundation after a long and arduous recovery from Hepatitis C), and I will encourage everyone else to do so as well. But no more pink for me.
What do you think?