Susan G. Komen for the Cure is dedicated to the prevention, treatment, and eventual cure for breast cancer. While both men and women are susceptible to breast cancer, the usual patients are women, so this organization is primarily aimed at women. Their signature color is pink, designed to appeal to women—and also likely to stick out when men wear it for an awareness or fundraising event sponsored by Komen.
When a visitor to the website first loads the Komen page, a message from Nancy Brinker, the founder of Komen for the Cure, pops up: “What started as a promise to my sister inspired a global movement.” Aristotle writes that “Pity may be defined as a feeling of pain caused by the sight of some evil, destructive or painful, which befalls one who does not deserve it, and which we might expect to befall ourselves or some friend of ours” (II.8.1385b.14-5). Nearly 30 years have passed since Brinker founded Komen for the Cure in honor of her departed sister, and yet that feeling of pity is still aroused in others by a simple statement about a promise made between two sisters. Not only do women fear getting breast cancer themselves, but the fear of it happening to a loved one, perhaps even a sister, is even more a call to action.
Longaker and Walker put it another way: “When we imagine an experience, our brains behave as if we were confronted with the object itself” (216). When faced with a website full of images of breast cancer patients and explanatory details about the life and death of Susan G. Komen, the visitor is led to imagine facing breast cancer—either herself, or in someone she loves. The mind, “imagining this experience” as Longaker and Walker say, begins to react with the same emotions as would be present if imagination were reality—terror, anxiety, and grief, all while clinging to hope that a cure can be found, possibly through Susan G. Komen for the Cure.
How did Komen manage to get this message to spread? Slowly. Brennan mentions that “a difficult idea can spread as if it were indeed contagious” (52), something that Brinker had to use to her advantage, since “newspapers balked at printing the words ‘breast cancer’, [and] no one talked openly about the disease” (Komen). Komen was not the first charity in existence, and it is hardly the only cancer-related charity around today; Kat Jones, the owner of the company that developed the Livestrong brand, calls the world of cancer charities “a very crowded space”. However, the foundation’s reach makes it seem larger than life. According to Komen.org, Nancy Brinker “pioneered cause-related marketing” with the result that it is hardly possible to walk into a supermarket without seeing pink labels, especially during October, which is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Brinker started with $200 and a bunch of names, and within a year of establishing the foundation, she had already held enough fundraising events in Dallas (including the first Race for the Cure) to start giving out grants for breast cancer research. The Komen site mentions that most people who donate do so because someone they know asked them. It is this way—by word of mouth—that the message of Komen most spreads. Brennan says, “As anyone who has participated in social movements is aware, the effect…is to intensify emotions of collectivity” (58). As one person asks another to donate or to participate in a Komen event, the bonds between the two people are strengthened, as well as the bond that each individual feels toward Komen and toward the entire community that the foundation has gathered around itself.
Longaker and Walker state, “Specific terms or symbols, if woven into emotionally powerful associative networks, can likewise lay before the audience something moving” (219). This is important to Komen in their two major symbols: the color pink and the running ribbon. Pink became Komen’s designated color in 1990; once innocently sitting around merely being a color, pink is now irrevocably associated with breast cancer, so that wearing anything that is pink gives the impression that the wearer is standing with Komen for the Cure. The pink ribbon first appeared in 1991, and has gone through a few makeovers to arrive at the signature Komen “running ribbon” that is now so well-known. Both of these logos added to the spread of Komen's message, since the mind now had an image to grab and onto which to attach the emotions drummed up by Komen’s marketing. As Ahmed expresses it, “a sign sticks to a body by constituting it as the object” (127), in this case, the object of both fear of breast cancer and hope for a cure. Because the pink ribbon and other pink paraphernalia are so pervasive in the culture now, it seems strange that either one is such a relatively recent addition to the world of breast cancer.
However, the foundation didn’t stop with symbols; Komen copyrighted the expression “for the Cure” when they changed from Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation to Susan G. Komen for the Cure in 2007, and uses that phrase in every way possible: Race for the Cure, Sleep in for the Cure, Marathon for the Cure, Art for the Cure—any Komen event has the line “for the Cure”, with the intent being that no one can hear that phrase and not think of Komen. In fact, “for the Cure” is a trademarked Komen phrase. No other charity is allowed to use it, regardless of what they are hoping to cure. The reason behind this, according to Komen, is “our donors and volunteers work very hard … they deserve to know that when they see ‘for the cure’, it means their dollars are being used to support Komen research.” Longaker and Walker point out, “many corporate logos have been around for so long that they function as values. We feel strong emotions at the mere presentation of the logo, without a network of emotionally resonant images” (222). Komen has invested a lot of money and emotional capital into their image and their trademark phrase, and don’t want that investment going to waste. “For the cure” also has pathetic value, in that it appeals to people’s need to do something. Not everyone can work in a lab, not everyone can personally do cancer research, and not everyone can care for cancer patients. But everyone can donate or participate in some way.
Founding the Race for the Cure in 1983 was a stroke of genius. From the 800 participants at the first race in Dallas, the Race has grown to a huge international series of 5Ks with over 1.7 million participants annually (Komen). Not only does every participant pay for the privilege, but many also do extra fundraising before and after every event. There is generally competition between teams—especially corporate teams—at each event to see who can raise the most money. Brennan says that “what ties the group together, what makes an individual a member of a group, hold regardless of whether the group is gathered together in one place” (52). Long before the race begins, and indeed long after it ends, participants in and supporters of a Race for the Cure have these bonds of belief in the cause that drive them to ask others to participate and, failing that, to at least donate.
Massumi says, "Intensity and experience accompany one another like two mutually presupposing dimensions or like two sides of a coin" (33). Ruth Warren, a frequent Race for the Cure participant, explains that when it comes to a Komen event, participants expect an experience and they are not disappointed. There is always a great deal of energy in the air. As far as intensity, organizers do not hold back: they play loud music to get the crowd energized and ready to run or walk. With the nerves and the excitement, the crowd transforms from sleepy participants trickling into the event by ones or twos to a unified mass of fast-moving people swaying to a beat. Cheerleaders are on hand to up the energy level, and teams or groups of friends who decided to do this event together stand out in their brightly-colored clumps of matching t-shirts.
“Regular” runners themselves bring a certain amount of adrenaline to any running event, but even without their help, the air is electric. Many Komen participants only run or walk in Komen events, and generally some of the participants have trained extra-hard for this, their first race, so they bring a different kind of nerves in addition to the emotions already tied to a race with the stated purpose of ending breast cancer. This sort of event, with excitement, sorrow, joy, exhaustion, and enthusiasm all mixed together, is a perfect setting for “emotional displays being looked upon favorably” (Brennan 51). Plus, the music gives a background rhythm which "has a unifying, regulating role in affective exchanges between two or more people" (Brennan 70). No wonder the sense of excitement at a race spreads so quickly.
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| A breast cancer survivor at the national Race for the Cure in 2008. Source. |
Before the walk begins, the survivors in pink hats gather, each with a pink balloon, to be recognized. In addition to the crowd cheering on these brave women, there is a balloon release, in order of how many years each of the women has survived. Warren remembers, "It seems a bit silly at first to see them all standing there holding balloons, but as it goes on, it becomes more poignant." One year – five years – ten years: The announcer calls out each time interval in turn, until all the balloons have been released. Brennan notes that "[an image] is transmitted as surely as the words whose sound waves or valence register physical effects in the air around the ears of those who hear" (70-1). For everyone who sees the balloon release, the image is received and the affect is transmitted; in this case, the crowd, already energized from the music, the mass of people, and the nerves, now has a very visual reminder of why they have assembled. If Miss Warren is any indication, participants take this image with them and have even more motivation not only to conquer the 5K, but also to continue raising money for Komen to allow more breast cancer patients to be survivors.
Survivors are not the only ones celebrated at a Komen race. It is customary for participants to wear placards on their backs, which read “In celebration of” for survivors and “In memory of” for victims. A Komen race is an opportunity to remember those who lost their struggle against breast cancer. The atmosphere of celebration and joy is tinged with sadness and tears in remembrance of those lost ones, and that sadness is punctuated and underlined with every “in memory of” placard that goes by. In some ways, the race ends on a more sobering note than it began, even with the energy of thousands of people and the loud, fast-beat music, because during the race is the chance to see all those placards. All those lives lost. Especially for someone who trained specifically in memory of a loved one, crossing the finish line is bittersweet. Brennan notes that “one individual has the affect, other individuals see it, or sometimes hear it, they then drum it up within themselves, and so the affect, apparently, spreads” (57)—a perfect explanation for the spread of emotion at a Komen race.
Massumi writes, “That is why all emotion is more or less disorienting, and why it is classically described as being outside oneself, at the very point at which one is most intimately and unshareably in contact with oneself and one’s vitality” (35). While running and exhausting herself, the participant has seen all these names of those who have lost or are still fighting, even while literally (depending on how hard she is running) feeling life pound through her healthy veins. Meanwhile, the pink-shirted survivors are standing nearby, the music is still playing, and the cheerleaders are still chanting and pressing for ever more excitement in the crowds. It is not difficult to imagine a runner feeling disoriented with all those emotions flowing through the air around her, even if she is unaware of how much emotion is being transferred. It is a small wonder, then, that Warren describes runners and walkers finishing the race with tears flowing down their faces, even if they were not showing any emotion at the beginning. Smith and Hyde note, “he evoked such emotions as fear, pity, helplessness, anger and joy in his audience while enhancing their ability to empathize with one another’s plight” (460). While they were referring to Jonathan Edwards, the principle is the same; the emotions evoked at a Race for the Cure advance a participant’s empathy and, therefore, the participant’s likelihood of continuing to support Komen.
Brennan gives other possibilities for the spread of affect in a group, both of which are in place at Race for the Cure events. She mentions pheromones, which "are literally in the air" (69), especially in a group the size of a Komen race: even in small towns, these events number into the thousands of participants. She adds, "As chemical entrainment also involves touch, we should note that contagion by this means has been mentioned by group theorists from Le Bon to Blumer" (69). Again, in such a large group compressed into a space as small as a race starting line, it would be impossible for participants not to touch each other, even if they didn't want to. And since these groups do tend to be made up of more women than men, it's likely that many are touching willingly-- hugging, grasping an arm, shaking hands, and so on.
Also in play at a Race for the Cure is the mass of images that the mind sees and must process. Massumi mentions that "it would appear that the strength or duration of an image's effect is not logically connected to the content in any straightforward way" (24). Some images are longer-lasting than others, so what each person brings home from the race will vary. In addition to these in-person images, Komen is not slow to take advantage of the power of photography: The first image a visitor to the Komen website sees is Brinker, standing with her back to the camera and facing the mass of people who has gathered for this particular race. Brinker is a breast cancer survivor herself and is wearing the survivor's pink shirt in the picture, with a placard on her back that reads, "In Memory of My Sister, Susan G. Komen". Massumi notes, "The qualifications of the emotional content enhanced the images' effect, as if they resonated with the level of intensity rather than interfering with it" (25). In this instance, the image is blurred after a few seconds for the "What began as a promise to my sister..." message mentioned earlier. In this case, the picture + words do exactly what Massumi suggests: the effect of the image is amplified by the qualification.
In many ways, Komen opened the door for other charities to raise money in the same way. There is now a running charity for pretty much any interest or some sort of walking/running event for others: CASA Superhero Run, Walk for Diabetes, Run for the Water, and so on. Edbauer, in her description of the “Keep Austin Weird” phenomenon, remarks, “The phrase ‘Keep Austin Weird’ quickly passed into the city’s cultural circulation, taking on the importance of a quasi-civic duty” (16). Through their marketing, visibility, and word of mouth, Komen has cemented “running = charity” in the minds of many, to the point that not only will non-runners will often automatically assume that their running friends are supporting a cause, but also the same non-runners are likely to ask about the upcoming event, perhaps to see if it is a cause they can get behind and participate in as well. Running just to run in this era of charity runners is becoming an abnormality, something that should please Komen and other charities; they are the ones reaping the benefits.
Not only are Komen events heavily marketed, but they also get the cooperation of visible parties in a community. It has become a tradition that college football teams wear pink at a home game during October, and they encourage their fans to do the same. Men who want to support their wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters are usually not shy about wearing pink for the same reason. This is especially true of men who are runners and support Komen or another breast cancer-related charity. In the same way that “a local business’s billboard vow[s] to ‘keep it weird’” (Edbauer 17), it is such a norm in our culture now to “go pink” that it is odd not to do so—at best, someone may think the non-participant doesn’t know about breast cancer, or at worst it seems that the person is somehow in favor of breast cancer, just because of his or her refusal to wear pink; he becomes Brennan’s odd “lone resister” (11).
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| Source. |
Komen for the Cure is an organization started by a woman that will mostly appeal to women. While they have given away millions of dollars in grants for research, the focus of the company is still a message of support between sisters who are in this fight together. Women who are struggling in their fight with breast cancer find comfort in this supportive, understanding, and nurturing community. The emotion of the original promise, the buzz and excitement of an event, and the intensely pink memorabilia associated with the foundation draw in some and push away others.
Works Cited
Ahmed, Sara. “Affective Economies.” Social Text 22.2: 117-39. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 1 May 2011.
Aristotle. “Rhetoric.” The Rhetoric and the Poetics of Aristotle. Trans. W Rhys Roberts. 1954. New York: McGraw Hill, 1984. 1-218. Print.
“Breast Cancer Awareness: Save the Ta-Tas.” Advantage Bridal. Advantage Bridal, 2 Oct. 2010. Web. 4 May 2011.
Brennan, Teresa. The Transmission of Affect. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 2004. Print.
Crowley, Sharon, and Debra Hawhee. “Pathetic Proof: Passionate Appeals.” Ancient Rhetorics for Contemporary Students. N.p.: n.p., n.d. 251-86. Rpt. in Class Readings. N.p.: n.p., n.d. N. pag. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 4 May 2011.
Donaldson, Bob. Race for the Cure. 2008. “More than 36,000 People Participate in the Race for the Cure.” By David Templeton. Pittsburgh Post-Gazette 12 May 2008: n. pag. Post-Gazette.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 May 2011.
Edbauer, Jenny. “Unframing Models of Public Distribution: From Rhetorical Situation to Rhetorical Ecologies.” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 35.4: 5-24. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 1 May 2011.
Jones, Kat. Class lecture. UGS 303 Creative Problem Solving. FAC, University of Texas. 26 Apr. 2011. Panel.
Longaker, Mark, and Jeffrey Walker. Rhetorical Analysis: A Brief Guide for Writers. N.p.: Longman, 2010. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 1 May 2011.
Massumi, Brian. Parables for the Virtual: Movement, Affect, Sensation. Durham: Duke UP, 2002. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 4 May 2011.
Smith, Craig R, and Michael J Hyde. “Rethinking ‘The Public’: The Role of Emotion in Being-With-Others.” Quarterly Journal of Speech 77: 446-66. Schedule: DDD’s Dossier. Web. 4 May 2011.
Susan G Komen for the Cure. Susan G Komen for the Cure, 2011. Web. 4 May 2011.
Warren, Ruth. Telephone interview. 4 May 2011.
