I start every meeting by opening my padfolio (that frankly took way too long to find at Office Max). In it, I have a few talking points scribbled down that I make sure to cover in every conversation I have about RACE. I try not to make my pitch seem too scripted, but I almost always have to glance down at my notes at some point during each meeting. However, there is one part of my spiel that never requires me to break eye contact with the person across from me.
“The reason I’m here is because my best friend, Michael, was diagnosed with medulloblastoma at the age of 10…“
As I begin to tell Michael’s story, I see the immediate change of expression of the staffer I’m meeting with. Sometimes it’s a half frown. Other times it’s an awkward grimace. No matter what face is made, though, it always makes the atmosphere somewhat uncomfortable.
“…Michael was treated with drugs that were 30-40 years old, which is unfortunately a very common practice when it comes to pediatric cancer…” I usually get a nod after this, suggesting some sort of an understanding of this horrible issue. This seems to create common ground between me and the staffer, so things get a little more comfortable. “…Michael’s cancer ended up metastasizing to his spine, and he passed away at the age of 15.” Any ounce of comfort shreds away as the staffer anxiously tries to come up with an appropriate response as quickly as possible. I don’t blame them; most people are extremely uncomfortable with addressing loss. That being said, I receive my fair share of apologies and awkward hums. I always prepare for these responses so that they don’t throw me off in the middle of my meetings. But wow was I thrown off by the response from a woman I met with on Friday.
“Michael is very lucky to have a friend like you. He is definitely so proud of you.”
I was completely taken aback. I couldn’t verbalize to that woman just how much that meant to me, and I can’t find the words to explain it here, either. Hearing those words just made my heart light up, and I think my face followed suit. At the end of the day, I’m just trying to honor the life of the boy that impacted mine so much. I don’t do any of this for recognition, but making Michael proud is perhaps the greatest feat I could ever achieve. I just hope that woman was right.
