before and after
This year I shaved my head
and the experience taught me an important lesson.
In February I heard about a charity called St. Baldricks that raises funds for childhood cancer research. Their method? Participants (or shavees) commit to buzzing their hair to raise awareness and in order to stand in solidarity with children who lose their hair while going through chemotherapy. Then the shavees enlist their friends, family, and coworkers to sponsor them and donate towards a financial goal. I knew I wanted to be a part of it. The sacrifice scared me a little, but it was thrilling at the same time. I felt brave and bold (something I rarely experienced in the past) and I could hardly wait to take the leap!
Fundraising was an awesome experience. St. Baldrick’s was on my mind pretty much constantly and I brought it up in conversation as much as I could. I talked with the kids in my class about it a lot to prepare them for the change that was coming in my appearance but also to broaden their views of beauty and gender expectations and get some conversations started about the suffering of strangers and different ways to involve oneself in supporting them. No matter where I went I made sure that everyone knew what I was doing and I wasn’t bashful about asking for their partnership. It blew me away to see the people I loved step up. My closest friends and family gave, my coworkers chipped in, even my preschool students were moved to donate! I was humbled and inspired! I thanked God for my loved ones, the opportunity to get involved, and I prayed for the children and families who were affected by cancer. It was an all-around positive experience.
Until, about a week before the big chop, I got cold feet. It started as a twinge of fear but only grew as my mind raced and I began to talk myself out of it.
Do I really want to have to deal with growing it back out for the next several years?! The money I am able to raise is just a drop in the bucket for cancer research! But on the other hand, my hair means so much to me personally! Relatively, it doesn’t make sense as an even trade. And I’m going to be hideous. I wish I could handle that but I really just can’t. I’m only one person, whose life is really going to be touched? I don’t even know anyone with cancer! I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. Everyone thinks I’m a saint but really I’m just a kid trying to be brave and put on a show. Give it up! I need to stop torturing myself.
I wrestled for two or three days. I knew I had to go through with it because of all the money I had raised and because of how many people were supporting me. I just couldn’t throw that all away. I prayed about it a lot and I talked about my fears with my friends and family and each day the Lord would send something my way to keep me moving forward- an anonymous donation, a loved one telling me that I inspired them, a preschooler with a ziplock bag full of change in his hand and a huge toothy smile on his face: “We gotta help the sick kids!”
And I ended up going through with it. On March 15th, my sweet friend Ali and I plopped ourselves into two barber’s chairs and felt the weight of our precious hair lift. Did I cry? No. It was surprisingly surreal. When it was all over, and I looked in the mirror, I felt brave. And bold. And proud to be me! I haven’t looked back since.
So where’s the lesson to be applied to the World Race? Like with the idea of shaving my head for childhood cancer research, the thrill of going on the World Race was exhilarating at first. But when the reality of the hard stuff sank in, I started to questions and doubt and tried to talk myself out of it. But I have to look back on cutting all my hair off and remind myself that it was one of the best experiences of my life. The love and support I felt from my community, the thrill of doing something even though I was afraid, and the rewards of being able to look at my reflection and know that I am a difference-maker made it all worth it. Plus, I kinda rock short hair. At least that’s what people tell me. So even though I’m scared to go on this trip, and even though I can build a really good case for staying, I know deep down that I will not regret pushing through the fear and doing something in the name of bold love.
