Recommended Reading

In this morning’s Huffington Post, author Lea Lane has written a touching and wonderful ode to her own scars. Definitely worth the read.

In the piece, Lane points out that for her, the scars that nobody sees are the hardest ones to heal. I suspect that statement would be true for many of us.

In that spirit, I offer a challenge to all of us today. What can you do, right now, to honor and care for the most painful parts of yourself?

Be gentle with yourself today. Take a bit of extra care. And know that you’re not alone.

the male role & perspective in the battle: interview #1

two days ago, after many hours of shooting for this project, i took a few minutes to sit in my kitchen and just cry.

i cried for the women who didn’t win their battle with cancer.  i cried for their families.  i cried with fear of the odds that i would face this in my own body.  i cried out of awe and pride at the women who fought the battle and came out stronger, still fighting – because beating cancer isn’t the only thing on the agenda.  they have life altering decisions to make about how to rebuild their bodies, rebuild their lives, rebuild their relationships, and fit back into the puzzle.  i cried out of gratitude and absolute admiration at the grace and courage it has taken for the women we have met to come and stand in front of our cameras and not only show us their scars, but be willing to show everyone their scars.

our single goal in starting this project was simple, and we achieved it the moment we started:  to start a conversation about what the scars mean and why they are beautiful, and why we should embrace them rather than hide them, worry about them, or be embarrassed by them.  we achieved the goal the first day, and we continue to set new goals and try to reach new audiences with every new reader and supporter that finds us.

somewhere along the way, a new perspective clicked into view for me about how important the role of men can be in the healing process.  we have talked with many women and in almost every story, there has been a man somewhere in the picture to love, support, carry, soothe, and respect her – whether it was the boyfriend of a best friend, or a father, a son, a husband.  to whatever extent we do or don’t admit it, and forgive me for opening up an ages old and epic debate – men have an impact on how we feel about our own beauty and strength.

we started collecting some of the stories as told by the men who have weighed in on our project and some of the men the survivors we have worked with have introduced us to, and we will be sharing many of them to feed the conversation we have started.

the first of these is in interview form with josh “danger” berg, a friend and supporter of the project and grandson of norma hirte, a 20 year breast cancer survivor.  josh was one of the men in her life who accepted and loved norma unconditionally, and found an opportunity to look her in the eye, express that acceptance and love, and put her at ease.

josh berg as a teenager w/grammy (jurassic park tie)

q:  what is your grandmother’s name?
a:   norma engen hirte, she had her maiden name changed to her middle name after marrying my  grandfather. but everyone just called her grammy or sometimes i would indulge in calling her gram or gram cracker.

q:  do you remember when your grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer?  how old were you?
a:    it was the summer of 1988 so i was 10 years old.

q:    do you remember any specific details about that time in her life?
a:   that year was her and my grandfathers’ ruby anniversary, we got a new dog named… ruby. my uncle pete, mom, brother ryan and i all lived with my grandparents at the time. she had her own very successful catering business on top of running a large household. she still always found time to help me with my english homework.

q: how close were you and your grandma? what parts of her are part of your daily life? what did you learn from her?
a:  we were very close. my grandmother and i kept no secrets. having been raised in a traditional norwegian-american farmstead there were some things we didn’t talk about… but it was still known.  i got my manners from my grandmother; along with wicked ballroom dancing and polka skills, a bunch of cooking techniques and her coolness under pressure.

q:  was it discussed with the rest of the family, was it explained to you, or was it kept secret or quiet?
a:   i don’t know if it was necessarily kept secret but it was one of those things we came to not talk about. i visited my grammy in the hospital and got to hold her hand shortly after surgery. i remember strongly the sight and smell of iodine and how it discolored her skin.

q:  what kind of treatment did your grandma have, do you know, or do you remember?
a: she went through aggressive chemo treatment and a single mastectomy.

q:   did your grandma survive breast cancer?
a:  yes, she was a 20 year survivor when she passed away of a brain aneurism.

q:  you were faced with an opportunity to express support – kind of a pivotal moment for Gram, even though you weren’t aware at the time what your reaction would mean for her – can you describe what happened?
a:  my son and i had moved in with her after a life event and i had found her bra pad in with my laundry out of the dryer. i took it to her and she looked really embarrassed i had seen it. i looked her in the eye and told her she doesn’t have to be embarrassed around me about that. i got to tell her then how strong i felt she was for having survived such a difficult thing. the survival rate wasn’t very good back then and i remember how harsh her treatments were. i had always felt proud of how valiantly she fought that battle.

q: what did you think it was?  did you understand what it was, or what it was for?
a:  yep, i knew. i had seen it before and grammy had a catalogue of products like it i saw when getting the mail one time.

q:  what do you think that moment meant to her, at the time?  what was her reaction?  how did it help you understand what she was going through?  was she able to answer your questions openly?
a:  i hope that she was able to know that i accepted what happened a long time ago and that i never thought it to be anything she should be ashamed of. it helped me understand that even though the event had happened nearly twenty years prior, her mastectomy still was a source of pain for her.  we always talked openly when we discussed things like this and it was a learning and strengthening event for us. she was more comfortable speaking about her surgery around me.

q:  what is your perception of how breast cancer affects women?
a:  i think ultimately it comes down to who is affected. some of the survivors i know of weren’t prepared for the after effects of their surgery and it is something they feel the need to hide completely. others i know have taken ownership of what happened and they count themselves proud survivors of a battle that some aren’t able to win still.

q:  what do you think about the scars of breast cancer survivors?
a:  i think that everyone has scars, either internally or externally. i think that those scars help paint the portrait of your life. for instance, i have several scars from my more rough and tumble years and a few from my world famous cycling accident a few years back. when people ask me about my scars, memories come flooding back to life as though i had lived that experience yesterday. i think that there is a great power in the scars of the survivors of breast cancer. you have the ability to remember the strength you felt when you found that you defeated a very powerful opponent. i can only hope if i ever have a similar battle that i can do so with the courage and determination that my grandmother showed me.

q: how do you think your grandma would feel about the of scars project, if she were here to see it  today?
a:  haha, my grammy was very demure; i don’t know if she would have approved but i know she would have loved the spirit that you have. and until the day she was taken from us she supported every survivor or woman going through treatment like a rock. i think she would have secretly loved it though.

Hello, Cancer. We Laugh in Your Face.

Cancer isn’t funny, really. It might think it’s funny. Like a bully on a playground, it shows up and demands what it wants.

“GIMME YOUR LUNCH MONEY!” it says, pinning us up against a wall.

“Uh, Cancer,” we say. “We’re not in elementary school anymore. We put our lunches on our cards.”

“Ah,” Cancer answers. “Then GIMME YOUR BOOBS!”

We’re tired of this bullying behavior. It’s time for retribution, Revenge of the Nerds style. Because seriously, Cancer, you can take our boobs. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get the last laugh.

Take Sara Jane Adair, for example. Sara lived with cancer for 13 years, and by all accounts she really lived through the experience. Those who knew her described her as vivacious, feisty, strong–and always funny.

While Sara was undergoing chemotherapy, Michael Johnson, her brother and a journalist in London, began drawing funny cartoons and sending them to her. On his Web site, Johnson says, “When I realized how much my efforts lifted her spirits I found myself digging deeper into a strange world of roundish shapes.”

The resulting book, 101 Uses for an Empty Bra, is a hilarious tribute to the experience that so many women go through after their mastectomies. It’s available online at emptybra.com, along with sneak-peek images of cartoons contained within the book, and a few minutes on the site will have you laughing until you cry. The images are hysterical. Bras are converted into “Ken and Barbie Bumbershoots”, “Surgeon Stranglers”, and, my favorite, a “Cantilevered Dental Prosthesis for Extreme Underbite”. The book makes a perfect gift for anyone with a slightly devilish sense of humor and deep sensitivity to the experience of women living with cancer.

On the site, Johnson remembers his sister as a wife, mother, sister, calligrapher, and flautist. He notes that nearly 700 people attended her funeral in Denver in 2007, drawn to her by her “irrepressible” sense of humor.

Up yours, Cancer. You never stole her smile.

Thanks to Molly Johnson for submitting the story of her Auntie Sara. You can share the stories of the amazing women you know who’ve defied breast cancer by sending us their stories at ofscarsproject (at) gmail (dot) com.

On Breasts, Identity, and Refusing to Hate Ourselves

Sounds like a serious subject, right? Nah.

See, Iranian cleric Hojjat ol-eslam Kazem Sediq isn’t just notable for his highly un-pronounceable name. He’s also an expert on God, breasts and geology. And he’s fairly convinced that our breasts, ladies, are the cause of the earthquakes that have killed tens of thousands of people in Iran in this decade alone. I’ll allow Hojjat ol-eslam Kazem Sediqi (how on earth do you say that?) to elaborate in his own words:

“Many women who do not dress modestly lead young men astray and spread adultery in society which increases earthquakes.”

Hmm. So…our breasts are so powerful that not only do they render men completely faultless for cheating on their wives, but they can also cause earthquakes? Sweet. I wanna know what else they can do!


I mean, is it possible that my breasts are responsible for the eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano in Iceland? And what’s with the correlation between breasts and things that are really, really hard to say?

But seriously. Imagine the possibilities! We could use the combined power of our boobs to accomplish all sorts of dastardly things. For example, the exposed breasts of this project’s models theoretically will cause a massive spike in males who sin, angering the Almighty and almost certainly producing a large hurricane in our home city of Minneapolis. Having leveled a sizeable city with our audacious bazoombahs, we’ll return home to buy flooded real estate at tremendous discounts. It’s just one city, but it’s a huge step on the Feminist Agenda’s Step-by-Step World Takeover Manual.

Noting that Hojjat ol-eslam Kazem Sediq–who I’m henceforth just gonna call “Ho” for short–didn’t seem to provide much scientific data for his claims, Facebook member Jennifer McCreight is organizing a massive experiment. It’s called “Boobquake“, and the plan is for female Facebook members to cause an earthquake by simultaneously wearing cleavage-revealing shirts on April 26th. Looks like your jumblies will be causing the rumblies, ladies! Way to lead those poor, sweet, helpless guys astray. The only thing that could protect the earth from untold tremors and terrors would be for those fellas to not commit adultery in response to our shirts? Will Iranian men be able to take responsibility for themselves and save the world? Tune in Monday to find out!

It’s funny! It’s hilarious, and out there, and crazy, and we’ve never heard anything like it!  Except…we have.

It’s easy for women in our culture, and in many others, to develop something of a love/hate relationship with our bodies in general and with our breasts in particular. What my buddy “Ho” was saying is just a more obvious and radical version of a sentiment that women hear all of our lives.

We’re told that our breasts have power. I’m okay with it so far, I guess, but that’s not all. We’re told that our breasts have power because they’re beautiful. Alright. I’m still in, I suppose.

Here’s where it all falls apart for me: We’re told that our breasts have power because they’re beautiful, and that this is somehow wrong. Don’t believe me? I’ve got examples.

  • Last December, police were called on a woman who was breast feeding her four-month-old infant in a Michigan Target store. Because, let’s be honest: Mary Martinez’s all-powerful, life-sustaining breasts were clearly presenting a huge moral threat to the Target security guard who called the authorities, claiming that it was illegal for her to breast feed in public. In fact, it is perfectly legal, and Target corporate policy allows for breast feeding in stores.
  • More recently, in Oxford, Alabama, Erica DeRamus had to choose between being paddled (wtf???!!!!!) or suspended when she showed up her senior prom wearing a dress that was determined to be too revealing. Because her cleavage was so powerfully beautiful that it forced an administration to condone physical punishment of children on an institutional level, right?  How’s that for logic? And how many boys were punished for dress code violations?
  • Though the policy changes faster than we can keep track of it, social-networking mega-site Facebook has at times published policies prohibiting photographs of bare breasts in any context, including photographs of breast feeding and relating to breast cancer.

The list goes on and on, ranging from thought-provoking to patently ridiculous, but one central theme remains. In our culture, it’s okay for multinational corporations and advertising agencies to sexualize our breasts to sell products. It’s okay for religious leaders in our culture to demand that we hide them–it’s not limited to Iran, and it’s not just our friend “Ho” who thinks this way. It’s acceptable in our culture for men to blame our breasts for causing them to “stray”. But it’s not okay for me to celebrate their femininity in my formalwear choices, or feed my baby with them, or show them in an honest and realistic and educational manner?

It’s really, really hard to know what to think of our breasts. If we’re careless with them, after all, it’s “slutty”. If we’re proud of them, we’re accused of immodesty from one side, while the other side says we’re more than the measure of our breasts and we shouldn’t care. If we’re shy about them, we’re “prude”. And that’s assuming that our breasts behave in a “normal” way.

So what happens when we add breast cancer to the mix?

Let’s imagine for a moment that your slutty/prude/immodest/unenlightened/all-powerful/beautiful/ugly/sinful/proud/shameless/lucrative/hidden breast finds itself affected by a disease that might kill the rest of your body. You didn’t know how to feel about it before your diagnosis. So how in the world can you be expected to make the decision that’s best for you in regard to your treatment?

And–please tell me–how on earth can a woman know how to feel about her body when those ever-confusing breasts are altered, or gone? When her “beauty” and her “power” are gone, and all that’s left is scars?

Oy, vey.

Can someone call me when it’s okay for us to regard our breasts as beautiful, without buying in to the idea that our breasts are our beauty? Will you wake me when women and our bodies are no longer held responsible for the decisions that anyone else might make? And please–please–let me know when it’s okay to embrace a woman whose views on sexuality/modesty/breast feeding/bottle feeding/working moms/stay-at-home moms/mastectomy/lumpectomy/ reconstruction/not reconstructing/minivans/SUVs/SmartCars/gas guzzlers/ men/women/weather/pop culture differ radically from my own?

Photo Source

When can women just live, without it offending someone? Will you let me know when that happens? Because I promised to keep this light, and it appears that I’m failing, and so I have to stop writing now.

I hope that this project helps us all to understand the beauty of our unique experiences, whatever they may be. I hope when you stop by our site now, or when you see our prints later, you recognize a part of yourself. I hope that it makes you proud. I hope you can see that your real beauty and your real power are in the real you, whatever form that takes.

Until then, let me know if things change. You’ll find me in my closet, trying to make a tornado with my nipple.