Why I relay

One student's mission to beat the sickness that has afflicted so many of her friends and family members

 by Emily Olson
 published on Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Dylan Winkler / STATE PRESS MAGAZINE

I don't run track — let's just make that clear from the beginning. I don't pass batons or jump hurdles for 100 meters. This is a relay, all right, but not the kind you might be thinking of. Instead, what we pass is hope: the hope that together, we can beat cancer.

Sadly, I wouldn't consider my story any different from those of most people I know. My aunt died of breast cancer in her early 40s, my favorite teacher died of colon cancer in her 50s, my grandfather had prostate cancer and my second-grade teacher and both grandmothers had breast cancer. I could continue, but I think you get the point.

This trend is why I Relay. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Relay for Life, it is the American Cancer Society's largest fundraiser, an event that lasts through the night to signify that cancer never sleeps, so we won't either — until we find a cure. With over 3.5 million participants in 5,000 locations across the nation, this event brings together communities for the same fight.

I was introduced to Relay my sophomore year. After my first Relay night experience, I was hooked. After so many important people in my life were inflicted with this ravaging disease, some winning and some losing, it is now my turn in this relay to pass on the hope.

Relay for Life at ASU is in its third year and, with an ambitious goal of raising $200,000 this year, we need the support of the entire ASU community. Between games, bands, performances and contests, there is never a dull moment at Relay. But I think what keeps people coming back is the emotion found during the luminaria ceremony. Perhaps this sounds a little hokey for you, a little too sentimental. I assure you that after experiencing one luminaria ceremony to celebrate and remember the lives that have been touched by cancer, you too will feel the way that I do.

So at midnight on April 19, you will know where to find me and 1,000 of your peers. In the darkness of the night, we will be at Sun Angel Stadium watching our luminaria bags light the path in front of us. We will be watching the word "hope" turn into "cure" — and eventually, real hope turn into an actual cure. We will be celebrating those battling cancer who have won, remembering those who have lost, and fighting back against a disease that has already taken too many.

Won't you join us?

— Reach the writer at spm@asu.edu
»Send us your own life story at spm@asu.edu.