I often share random thoughts that come to me on social media. Typically, these thoughts or questions are things that have been simmering beneath the surface of my life but I don’t bother them. Every so often, one of those deeper thoughts will bubble up to the surface of my conscious and just sit there. It usually feels like its demanding an answer but sometimes I guess it just wants some light and air…
I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer in 2008. Before I was diagnosed, October was for Halloween. Yes, I was familiar with breast cancer awareness month but I didn’t focus on it much. Once I was diagnosed however, I felt excited about Pinktober. The first year. I felt like people could SEE me, recognize my struggle and that somebody somewhere would do something. I felt acknowledged. I felt supported. I felt loved.
A love letter and wake-up call to the black community regarding breast cancer.
A few years ago, I asked some of my twitter followers if they wanted to write a guest post on this blog giving their perspective about breast cancer. One of the people who responded to my request was my Twitter friend Maurice. Maurice works as a radiation therapist and his post is one of my favorite on the blog because he is passionate about health in the black community.
Where are the black people with cancer?
I was just looking at a developing story on the New York Times blog about life after cancer. NYTimes – Picture Your Life After Cancer And I was thinking about submitting my picture and a brief story to the mix. But as I looked more closely, I was amazed that there wasn’t at least one other brown face. Not one.
How could this be possible in the NYTimes?