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Generosity
Posted Wednesday, January 23, 2002
By Michele Lesser
 "My mother hated skydiving" Mallory Lewis Tarcher recalls. "She thought it was the worst idea. But I think she would be happy to know that if I had to jump, that I could do it for a good cause. To raise money for breast cancer research." Mallory and I don't know each other, but we share a common bond - we both have lost people to breast cancer. This morning, we had an opportunity to talk.
I don't talk as much as I usually do - Mallory is a busy woman, and I still can't articulate Laura's loss. Both of us grieve a bit, Mallory reminding me that the harsh pain will fade, and that Laura's memory will become easier to handle. I have to take her word for it; she has been there. She lost her mother Shari Lewis to breast cancer in 1998. Mallory speaks lovingly of her mother, and of her legacy to the world's children. I hear the longing in Mallory's voice, too, and understand who she has lost. As I listen to her, I feel again the loss of Laura's glorious exuberance, her sparkle, her sheer joy in life. Tears creep down my face. The enormity of breast cancer blossoms in my mind.
Breasts. Cancer. These are words that just do not resonate with each other. They are not compatible. I have a hard time with them being together. I cannot think of these words without a twinge of fear, for myself, and for all other women. There is no cutaway from terminal cancer. No reserve patiently waiting for when it's needed. No second chances. When you have cancer, it all changes. And when you watch someone die of it, the impact is enormous. Horrendous. Horrifying. Devastating. Huge. Yet, there is something we can do.
Last September 11, we suffered a national tragedy. In a matter of moments, over 3 thousand people were killed in an attack on our soil. Over 3 thousand families were deeply and irrevocably affected. The tragedy echoes into today, reverberating in the daily news, on tv, and in our minds. Breast cancer is far more quiet. Silent, even. Yet it affects more families in a month than the terrorist attacks did. In one month, 14,384 women will come home and tell their families and loved ones that they face breast cancer. In a single day, 118 women will die from breast cancer. And that is in America alone.
In America every year, 175,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. 43,000 women will die. The statistics show that 1 in 9 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. Those are huge numbers, inconceivable even.
How about this: the next time you are on an Otter load, picture every jumper as a woman. And then, imagine that two of them have breast cancer. And then, imagine them as your mother, sister, aunt, best friend, wife, girlfriend. Imagine her as yourself. Then jump out into the freedom; celebrate your life, dancing through the sunkissed day, taming the challenge of the sky.
Or picture a typical small college classroom, with about 40 women present. Then, empty 4 chairs, and place them on the dais with the instructor. Those empty chairs represent the lives diagnosed with breast cancer. Then focus back on the instructor, and study for that final examination, which will bring you closer to your career.
The conversation with Mallory turned to fundraising.
"It's hard, this year" she said. "And people are a bit concerned that the money raised will, in fact, go to the City of Hope for their breast cancer research. I would like everyone to know that all Jump for The Cause (JFTC) organizers are doing this voluntarily, we're not getting paid. Our expenses will be reimbursed, but we will not draw a salary".
Being unfamiliar with how a non-profit company is set up, and what kind of hard costs there are, I asked the question, "What do you mean by that?"
She explained. "Just because someone donates an airplane, like the Airforce did last year, it comes dry. Who pays for the fuel? What about all the other stuff? Who pays for the Federal Express costs, the copying, the lawyers, accountants? The webmaster? The food, hotel, transportation of the judges? These are hard costs, and yes, the money raised will facilitate that. But every cent over that amount will go towards Breast Cancer research."
Mallory continued, "we are a public corporation. We set it up that way because then anyone can come look at our books, anyone can e-mail me with specific questions, and anyone can check us out. We welcome it; we are not hiding anything. The money goes where it is supposed to go. We're good people working for a good cause. We have no other motives than to raise money for breast cancer research. O.K., and to have a good time doing it!" she adds with a laugh.
But underneath, I can hear a tone of concern, of worry. Is she worried that people are cynical, I wonder? Or that people are just too tired of giving because of recent events? Is the concern I am hearing a cynicism, or doubt that this year will be a success?
"No, not that, really", she answers "I am not concerned, and not cynical. But I am sad, because there is a concern that this year's event will not be able to meet the goal we set. It is hard to ask people to give again. I was at the WTC the day after it happened. I saw the devastation, the wrecked families. I was there with Lambchop, in the Armory, entertaining children who would never see their parents again. I was there when families were begging to be given a wedding ring back, or something, anything, to remember their loved ones with. That tragedy affected me greatly, too. But I also know the devastation that breast cancer can bring to a family. And I know that it can be treated; I know this. We just need to fund research. And that's what JFTC is going to do."
I asked Mallory about her goals this year for Jump for The Cause.
"I have two goals. One, to beat the women's record for formation. It is 118 women right now. We want 140+ women to set a new record. And we can do it, too. And the other, to raise more money than we ever have before. To beat our own financial record."
That financial goal is $1,000,000.
Yes, it is a big number.
I don't have the money, I think. I can't financially contribute right now. I try to think of a few ways I could contribute without giving up something I want. If I gave up one jump a month, and there's 6 months to go, then I could give - let's see, one jump ticket at $19, that's - wait, where's the calculator - I could give $114.00. And only give up 1 jump a month. That's not too much. I could do that. And do it easily, too.
Or I could work ½ a day, and donate my earnings to JFTC. Or, instead of dinner and a movie out one night, I could convince my date to donate the $60, and cook him dinner, and rent a movie. Or maybe, I could tell my co-workers about Jump For The Cause, and put a jar on my desk, and collect from everyone around me.
Or I could do none of that, and just give $20. If everyone on this website gave $20, Dropzone.com alone could raise $14,000 for JFTC. If we asked 10 of our friends to donate $20 each, then we could raise an additional $200 per person registered on this site. If everyone reading this gave whatever they could give, the goal would be met. And we could make a dent in the suffering of the women we know. We might even be able to save a life.
I sit here, wondering if I can challenge you somehow, to spur you on. How I could encourage you to give a little bit of money. Just a little bit. I will not launch into the tremendously heartwrenching experience of watching someone you love die of cancer. I will not relate the fears, the helplessness, of being the person holding a hand as the victim fights for her life, knowing it is useless, but fighting anyway. I will not describe the agony of knowing you are losing her, because of breast cancer. I will not share the flickering of my own mortality as a beautiful, vibrant, joyous, courageous, alive woman dwindles, fades, evaporates, disappears from my life. I cannot yet share the anguish of the loss.
But I will quote Kahlil Gibran, and say " generosity is not giving me something when I need it more. Generosity is giving to me when you need it more."
Please be generous. Donate to Jump For The Cause. Then celebrate your life.
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