The RL Q&A: Voices of Pink Pony 2020

For a special-edition RL Q&A, we sat down with seven survivors and advocates featured in the 20th anniversary Pink Pony Campaign for an intimate conversation about their personal cancer journeys

This year marks the 20th anniversary of Pink Pony—Ralph Lauren’s global initiative created to support screening, early diagnosis, treatment, education, and patient navigation in the battle against cancer. To honor the past two decades and celebrate the ones ahead, we spoke with 36 men and women around the world about their personal experiences with the disease. Survivors, advocates, activists, and health care workers each told an intimate story, marked by strength, courage, and an unwavering determination to fight on their own terms. Captured via Zoom interviews, personal recordings, and a shoot in New Jersey, families, friends (and new friends-to-be) came together to share their voices. Below, in a special-edition RL Q&A, we compiled the stories of seven individuals from the group, unified by a common mission of love and a cancer-free tomorrow. As Nina Luker, a 24-year-old survivor of lymphoma from Pennsylvania put it, “Love is the sun hitting your face.” Here, inspiring lessons from the people that keep their own light, and that of the ones around them, burning ever bright.

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi is the Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities at Boston University and founding director of the Boston University Center for Antiracist Research. He is the author of many books, including Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, which won the National Book Award for Nonfiction, and three #1 New York Times best sellers. In January 2018 he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer.

What has your personal cancer journey looked like?

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi: I am the son of a woman who had breast cancer, and my wife also fought breast cancer when she was in her mid-30s. I was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in January of 2018, and then I underwent six months of chemotherapy. I had surgery in August 2018. Luckily, I’ve been OK ever since. There was a time in which I didn’t think I would be here.

What life lessons have you learned from cancer—in retrospect, what do you draw from this experience?

IK: How critical it is to be a warrior. As we’re being warriors to fight racism in the body politic, and I’d spent years as a part of that larger battle against racism and sexism and homophobia and other forms of bigotry, and as we’re on the battlefield, we’re literally fighting for humanity. By the same token, we have our personal battles. We have to become personal warriors to fight for a human meaning ourselves. And, if you win that fight, to then hopefully turn around and fight for the lives of humanity.

In this very divisive time, how can we bring more people together to recognize that we are all part of the same family?

IK: I appreciate Pink Pony for driving home love because, in many ways, love is what’s going to save us. Love is a verb. Certainly, love saved me. My wife basically dragged me to get a colonoscopy completely against my will. I may not have gotten a colonoscopy until two months later because there was so much backlog. I can only imagine, I suspect, I wonder if there were other people who called around the same time I did who weren’t able to go to get a colonoscopy until two months later, and whether that two months became the difference between them living or dying. We don’t have a health care system that’s loving. We certainly have many doctors who aren’t empathetic with their patients and see them as the other, which is a problem. I recently read a piece that stated that we’re only spending 2.5 percent on public health. 2.5 percent. In a different type of world, it would be 50 or 75 percent. Can you imagine the number of diseases and the number of illnesses we would be able to reduce among all people?

Dr. Harold Freeman

Dr. Freeman is a cancer surgeon who has worked in the field for nearly 50 years. He is the cofounder of the Ralph Lauren Center for Cancer Care in Harlem in New York City; a former president of the American Cancer Society; and a Professor Emeritus of Surgery at Columbia University. He previously served as the director of surgery at Harlem Hospital. In 1990, the American Cancer Society established the Dr. Harold P. Freeman Award to recognize his extensive work in pioneering the patient-navigation model created to address disparities in access to timely diagnosis and treatment.

You pioneered the invention of patient navigation—a critical tool in the battle for early detection and treatment. What was that process like?

Dr. Harold Freeman: When I became the national president of the American Cancer Center in 1988, I thought of a concept that I called patient navigation. It’s the idea that patients need to be assisted and guided through a complex health care system where they meet financial or communication barriers. They meet barriers because the system itself is so complex. They meet barriers because they are afraid and distrustful and emotional. So we created something called patient navigation at Harlem Hospital, beginning in the ’90s. I brought in people called patient navigators, and they worked directly with the patients. When a patient would come in to see me, the navigator would be right there, when I would examine the patient. After I examined the patient and might say, “You need a biopsy,” the navigator would take the patient to a different room and ask, “Did you understand what the doctor said?” Often they did not. The navigator would say, “Well, do you have any barrier to getting the biopsy?” The patient would say, “I don't have health insurance.” The navigator’s job then would be to get the patient insured. Often I would have to help them do that. Or the patient might often say, “I’m afraid, and I don’t trust these doctors.” Well, the navigator would take on a personal relationship to alleviate fear and distress. Eliminating the barriers and the timely movement of the patient through the system became what we call patient navigation. We reduced the death rate from breast cancer significantly through that process. Now that can be applied to any cancer or disease.

People need to care about people. It might be a good system, it might be a good hospital, but people need personal guidance and support.

—Dr. Harold Freeman on patient navigation

The emotional component of the cancer journey is so critical. How do we holistically support people who are dealing with the disease?

HF: My experience in Harlem is that most of the people I was treating didn’t have a good support system. Somehow, we have to find a way not only to be technically correct as doctors and surgeons making a diagnosis; we also have to be supportive. What I found was that doctors themselves don’t have enough time to give full support. They can give some support, but they need to bring in other people to help them with their support. It takes a team of people to do a job, to help a person. Life itself is a journey, and cancer is a journey within life. The journey can be difficult, or the journey can be made easier. Instead of just seeing, I began to understand that I not only had to take care of the patient one-on-one, but I had to keep in mind the concept of the journey that the patient had to take from a beginning point to some end point. That’s a different way of looking at medicine. To consider the movement of the patient through a continuum to an end point of some kind, from abnormal finding, for example, like a lump in the breast, or blood test of the prostate. From there, you have to take the patient into the next step. It might be a biopsy. It’s a journey, and it’s a one-on-one journey, not just a system of care unrelated to the individual journey.

Nina Luker

As a 23-year-old, Nina Luker, originally from Pennsylvania, was living in New York City with her roommate, Christina, and working in the advertising field. As a former Division I athlete at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, the last thing she imagined was the cancer diagnosis that would shake her world at 24. Six months ago, a few days before COVID hit, she was diagnosed with stage 4 diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, a type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma, from which she is now in remission.

How would you describe that initial day and the first feeling of receiving your diagnosis?

Nina Luker: I was in my room looking out at the skyline of New York City. I got the call from my doctor with my family on the other line, and I heard the word cancer. All I remember is myself dropping the phone and screaming at the top of my lungs. This was a moment I will never forget. Moments later, I called Christina, and she came through that door. I was in the fetal position on our couch. She held me, gave me hope, and allowed me to feel everything that I was feeling. She really made me believe that I was going to get through this. I had to grow up at that moment. I had to be strong for myself, for my family, and for my friends.

And what about the other end of it. How do you feel about where you are now?

NL: There were moments in this entire journey that I doubted my mind and my body to get through this. I can confidently say, learning only a week ago that I’m in remission, that this mental battle is something that I have truly taken and put into my gratitude box. Never in my life had I fully trusted myself to get through something until this moment. I’ll never forget waking up in the morning after I received the good news that night. I had this overwhelming feeling of floating, like my body had lifted out of my bed, and I was free—this feeling of knowing that I’m in remission, and it’s a heavy word because it doesn’t mean I’m cancer-free. There’s still potential that I can get cancer and relapse, but at this moment, this was a win that I took.

As women we’re often very attached to our hair. Just like everything else life has handed you, you’ve been forced to let that go. What did you think when you looked in the mirror after your dad was done shaving your head?

NL: That was a moment I will never forget. I can still remember putting my hand on my hair, and it was a lot. I felt like a part of me had gone away because I didn’t have that hair, but then I also felt like this was the real me. I took down that veil of being someone and having this outward appearance. I was stripped back to my core. I’ll never forget my dad after he was done; he kissed the top of my head. It was a really special moment because I felt loved, I felt accepted.

What kinds of things do you do now in the morning specifically, and maybe in the evening, that are different than perhaps your routine was before?

NL: My morning is a sacred time. I wake up usually with the sun. Not all the time, that would be a little overkill, but I go downstairs, I get a cup of coffee, I bring it back into my room, and I sit and meditate for 10 to 20 minutes. This routine, it’s a nonnegotiable. I have found it’s given me so much light. I can manifest something that I want, I can exit the fear, and I can really sit with myself for the first time and give myself back that love that I don’t always have.

G.E.M.

Gloria Tang, known professionally as G.E.M., is a Hong Kong–based singer and songwriter. Originally from Shanghai, China, she skyrocketed to fame with her second-place win in the 2014 singing competition I Am a Singer (in 2016, she became the only Asian artist to earn a coveted spot on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list). In 2011, G.E.M. lost her grandmother to pancreatic cancer just weeks before she was set to perform her first sold-out show at the Hong Kong Coliseum. Since then, she leaves a front-row seat vacant at all of her performances in her grandmother’s memory.

What was the experience of finding out about your grandmother’s cancer like?

G.E.M.: I was 19 years old and preparing for my first-ever concert, in Hong Kong. Suddenly, I received a call from my grandpa in Shanghai. He told me that my dear grandma got pancreatic cancer. What’s worse, it was terminal. For me, that was really unbelievable. Without hesitation, I flew back to Shanghai. My grandma didn’t know I was coming, so as soon as she woke up from the hospital bed and saw me standing there, I still remember the surprised smile on her face. For the next two weeks, I was next to her bed every day and studied my lyrics. I talked to her and prayed that she would recover and come to Hong Kong to see her granddaughter being on stage. Because she was the one who brought music into my life. But she couldn’t make it. It made me suddenly feel that I need to cherish every moment I have with the people around me.

How can the average person help in the fight against cancer?

G.E.M.: All we can do is to really be with the person who is going through this—to give them courage to know that although they are facing this challenge, they are not alone. Love and time are really important in that process. My love language is quality time. My life’s philosophy is, if you can’t change it, then embrace it happily. Love gives me purpose. If you’re fighting cancer, know that there is hope. I’ve learned to live every day as my last day. The difference between life and living is whether you find its meaning.

What would you say is the best way to cultivate peace of mind when facing a crisis?

G.E.M.: When you are very clear about what you have and the meaning of your life, you suddenly feel that you can face all problems. I am G.E.M. I am a singer-songwriter. My name G.E.M. stands for getting everybody moving, and that is the purpose of me making music. To me, the songwriting process is sometimes a self-healing process. It helps me to get through hard times.

Deborah James

Deborah James, a British writer, broadcaster, and the presenter of the You, Me, and the Big C podcast was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer at the age of 35.

What has this year been like when it comes to your personal cancer battle?

Deborah James: 2020 has been pretty challenging—weighing up cancer treatment, the risks of COVID, knowing that services have been compromised. But campaigns like Pink Pony enable me to see the power of love when people work together to bring good and change in this world, especially for those living with cancer. Living with cancer is a roller coaster. It has its highs. I’ve learned to love harder, to appreciate every single day that I have here on this wonderful world. But I also have experienced awful lows to face my own mortality, to say goodbye to loved ones. It is in their name that I live every single day.

What would you tell those newly diagnosed with cancer?

DJ: If you’re newly diagnosed with cancer, welcome to the club that you never wanted to be part of, but I promise you that there is a massive community of love, of support, of solidarity, of knowing what it’s like to have that fear at 3 a.m. I also promise you there’s hope. There’s hope of people living with cancer, of people living in a future that they didn’t even know they had. I’m one of those people, and I’m very grateful for that. I wish you all the luck, all the love, all the taking it one day at a time. We are there holding your hand all the way if you’re newly diagnosed. Much love.

How would you sum up what your life philosophy has been through these challenging years?

DJ: My life philosophy is one day at a time. Love gives me hope. I want the world to know that love can make it stronger. I want the world to know that if we love together, we can do great things together.

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann is a radiation oncologist and the scientific director and chairperson of the German Cancer Research Center in Heidelberg.

How can the average person help in the fight against cancer?

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann: Each of us can help by taking prevention and early detection measures seriously. In addition, each of us can contribute to improving cancer research and treatment, for example, by donating funds and by publicly advocating for good research and health care.

What do people not realize about battling cancer?

MB: One thing, which is not really realized, is how important cancer prevention and early detection is. We could prevent up to 70 percent of all cancer deaths if we get better in these fields.

If someone is fighting cancer, what would you want them to know?

MB: We are at your side by performing cancer research for better care in the future.

You can tell a lot about a person … ?

MB: By how they face challenges.

Ai Tominaga

Ai Tominaga is a model who regularly engages in charity and philanthropic activities. Japan’s first spokesperson for Fashion Targets Breast Cancer in 2003, she is a passionate advocate for cancer care and prevention.

What is your connection to cancer?

Ai Tominaga: Recently, a close friend of mine was suspected of having breast cancer. She’d been having tests for several months. During that time, she started to think more about her life. It turns out she didn’t have cancer, but being around her, I became more aware of just how scary cancer can be. Our lives are so busy it can be hard to take action. Being able to raise awareness of breast cancer through fashion, with initiatives like Pink Pony, is really important.

What does love mean to you?

AT: Love is what connects us during times of struggle and times of joy. I think we’re able to live because of love. Due to the spread of the novel coronavirus, things that were once commonplace are no longer so. But I think as a result, we are now paying more attention to our health than we did before. Having a bright and positive mindset and spending time with our loved ones is what keeps us mentally and physically healthy. You are never alone when you have love—it’s the only thing that matters.

What is your life philosophy?

AT: That which you see fall today may rise tomorrow.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of Pink Pony—Ralph Lauren’s global initiative created to support screening, early diagnosis, treatment, education, and patient navigation in the battle against cancer. To honor the past two decades and celebrate the ones ahead, we spoke with 36 men and women around the world about their personal experiences with the disease. Survivors, advocates, activists, and health care workers each told an intimate story, marked by strength, courage, and an unwavering determination to fight on their own terms. Captured via Zoom interviews, personal recordings, and a shoot in New Jersey, families, friends (and new friends-to-be) came together to share their voices. Below, in a special-edition RL Q&A, we compiled the stories of seven individuals from the group, unified by a common mission of love and a cancer-free tomorrow. As Nina Luker, a 24-year-old survivor of lymphoma from Pennsylvania put it, “Love is the sun hitting your face.” Here, inspiring lessons from the people that keep their own light, and that of the ones around them, burning ever bright.

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi is the Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities at Boston University and founding director of the Boston University Center for Antiracist Research. He is the author of many books, including Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, which won the National Book Award for Nonfiction, and three #1 New York Times best sellers. In January 2018 he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer.

What has your personal cancer journey looked like?

Dr. Ibram X. Kendi: I am the son of a woman who had breast cancer, and my wife also fought breast cancer when she was in her mid-30s. I was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in January of 2018, and then I underwent six months of chemotherapy. I had surgery in August 2018. Luckily, I’ve been OK ever since. There was a time in which I didn’t think I would be here.

What life lessons have you learned from cancer—in retrospect, what do you draw from this experience?

IK: How critical it is to be a warrior. As we’re being warriors to fight racism in the body politic, and I’d spent years as a part of that larger battle against racism and sexism and homophobia and other forms of bigotry, and as we’re on the battlefield, we’re literally fighting for humanity. By the same token, we have our personal battles. We have to become personal warriors to fight for a human meaning ourselves. And, if you win that fight, to then hopefully turn around and fight for the lives of humanity.

In this very divisive time, how can we bring more people together to recognize that we are all part of the same family?

IK: I appreciate Pink Pony for driving home love because, in many ways, love is what’s going to save us. Love is a verb. Certainly, love saved me. My wife basically dragged me to get a colonoscopy completely against my will. I may not have gotten a colonoscopy until two months later because there was so much backlog. I can only imagine, I suspect, I wonder if there were other people who called around the same time I did who weren’t able to go to get a colonoscopy until two months later, and whether that two months became the difference between them living or dying. We don’t have a health care system that’s loving. We certainly have many doctors who aren’t empathetic with their patients and see them as the other, which is a problem. I recently read a piece that stated that we’re only spending 2.5 percent on public health. 2.5 percent. In a different type of world, it would be 50 or 75 percent. Can you imagine the number of diseases and the number of illnesses we would be able to reduce among all people?

Dr. Harold Freeman

Dr. Freeman is a cancer surgeon who has worked in the field for nearly 50 years. He is the cofounder of the Ralph Lauren Center for Cancer Care in Harlem in New York City; a former president of the American Cancer Society; and a Professor Emeritus of Surgery at Columbia University. He previously served as the director of surgery at Harlem Hospital. In 1990, the American Cancer Society established the Dr. Harold P. Freeman Award to recognize his extensive work in pioneering the patient-navigation model created to address disparities in access to timely diagnosis and treatment.

You pioneered the invention of patient navigation—a critical tool in the battle for early detection and treatment. What was that process like?

Dr. Harold Freeman: When I became the national president of the American Cancer Center in 1988, I thought of a concept that I called patient navigation. It’s the idea that patients need to be assisted and guided through a complex health care system where they meet financial or communication barriers. They meet barriers because the system itself is so complex. They meet barriers because they are afraid and distrustful and emotional. So we created something called patient navigation at Harlem Hospital, beginning in the ’90s. I brought in people called patient navigators, and they worked directly with the patients. When a patient would come in to see me, the navigator would be right there, when I would examine the patient. After I examined the patient and might say, “You need a biopsy,” the navigator would take the patient to a different room and ask, “Did you understand what the doctor said?” Often they did not. The navigator would say, “Well, do you have any barrier to getting the biopsy?” The patient would say, “I don't have health insurance.” The navigator’s job then would be to get the patient insured. Often I would have to help them do that. Or the patient might often say, “I’m afraid, and I don’t trust these doctors.” Well, the navigator would take on a personal relationship to alleviate fear and distress. Eliminating the barriers and the timely movement of the patient through the system became what we call patient navigation. We reduced the death rate from breast cancer significantly through that process. Now that can be applied to any cancer or disease.

People need to care about people. It might be a good system, it might be a good hospital, but people need personal guidance and support.

—Dr. Harold Freeman on patient navigation

The emotional component of the cancer journey is so critical. How do we holistically support people who are dealing with the disease?

HF: My experience in Harlem is that most of the people I was treating didn’t have a good support system. Somehow, we have to find a way not only to be technically correct as doctors and surgeons making a diagnosis; we also have to be supportive. What I found was that doctors themselves don’t have enough time to give full support. They can give some support, but they need to bring in other people to help them with their support. It takes a team of people to do a job, to help a person. Life itself is a journey, and cancer is a journey within life. The journey can be difficult, or the journey can be made easier. Instead of just seeing, I began to understand that I not only had to take care of the patient one-on-one, but I had to keep in mind the concept of the journey that the patient had to take from a beginning point to some end point. That’s a different way of looking at medicine. To consider the movement of the patient through a continuum to an end point of some kind, from abnormal finding, for example, like a lump in the breast, or blood test of the prostate. From there, you have to take the patient into the next step. It might be a biopsy. It’s a journey, and it’s a one-on-one journey, not just a system of care unrelated to the individual journey.

Nina Luker

As a 23-year-old, Nina Luker, originally from Pennsylvania, was living in New York City with her roommate, Christina, and working in the advertising field. As a former Division I athlete at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, the last thing she imagined was the cancer diagnosis that would shake her world at 24. Six months ago, a few days before COVID hit, she was diagnosed with stage 4 diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, a type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma, from which she is now in remission.

How would you describe that initial day and the first feeling of receiving your diagnosis?

Nina Luker: I was in my room looking out at the skyline of New York City. I got the call from my doctor with my family on the other line, and I heard the word cancer. All I remember is myself dropping the phone and screaming at the top of my lungs. This was a moment I will never forget. Moments later, I called Christina, and she came through that door. I was in the fetal position on our couch. She held me, gave me hope, and allowed me to feel everything that I was feeling. She really made me believe that I was going to get through this. I had to grow up at that moment. I had to be strong for myself, for my family, and for my friends.

And what about the other end of it. How do you feel about where you are now?

NL: There were moments in this entire journey that I doubted my mind and my body to get through this. I can confidently say, learning only a week ago that I’m in remission, that this mental battle is something that I have truly taken and put into my gratitude box. Never in my life had I fully trusted myself to get through something until this moment. I’ll never forget waking up in the morning after I received the good news that night. I had this overwhelming feeling of floating, like my body had lifted out of my bed, and I was free—this feeling of knowing that I’m in remission, and it’s a heavy word because it doesn’t mean I’m cancer-free. There’s still potential that I can get cancer and relapse, but at this moment, this was a win that I took.

As women we’re often very attached to our hair. Just like everything else life has handed you, you’ve been forced to let that go. What did you think when you looked in the mirror after your dad was done shaving your head?

NL: That was a moment I will never forget. I can still remember putting my hand on my hair, and it was a lot. I felt like a part of me had gone away because I didn’t have that hair, but then I also felt like this was the real me. I took down that veil of being someone and having this outward appearance. I was stripped back to my core. I’ll never forget my dad after he was done; he kissed the top of my head. It was a really special moment because I felt loved, I felt accepted.

What kinds of things do you do now in the morning specifically, and maybe in the evening, that are different than perhaps your routine was before?

NL: My morning is a sacred time. I wake up usually with the sun. Not all the time, that would be a little overkill, but I go downstairs, I get a cup of coffee, I bring it back into my room, and I sit and meditate for 10 to 20 minutes. This routine, it’s a nonnegotiable. I have found it’s given me so much light. I can manifest something that I want, I can exit the fear, and I can really sit with myself for the first time and give myself back that love that I don’t always have.

G.E.M.

Gloria Tang, known professionally as G.E.M., is a Hong Kong–based singer and songwriter. Originally from Shanghai, China, she skyrocketed to fame with her second-place win in the 2014 singing competition I Am a Singer (in 2016, she became the only Asian artist to earn a coveted spot on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list). In 2011, G.E.M. lost her grandmother to pancreatic cancer just weeks before she was set to perform her first sold-out show at the Hong Kong Coliseum. Since then, she leaves a front-row seat vacant at all of her performances in her grandmother’s memory.

What was the experience of finding out about your grandmother’s cancer like?

G.E.M.: I was 19 years old and preparing for my first-ever concert, in Hong Kong. Suddenly, I received a call from my grandpa in Shanghai. He told me that my dear grandma got pancreatic cancer. What’s worse, it was terminal. For me, that was really unbelievable. Without hesitation, I flew back to Shanghai. My grandma didn’t know I was coming, so as soon as she woke up from the hospital bed and saw me standing there, I still remember the surprised smile on her face. For the next two weeks, I was next to her bed every day and studied my lyrics. I talked to her and prayed that she would recover and come to Hong Kong to see her granddaughter being on stage. Because she was the one who brought music into my life. But she couldn’t make it. It made me suddenly feel that I need to cherish every moment I have with the people around me.

How can the average person help in the fight against cancer?

G.E.M.: All we can do is to really be with the person who is going through this—to give them courage to know that although they are facing this challenge, they are not alone. Love and time are really important in that process. My love language is quality time. My life’s philosophy is, if you can’t change it, then embrace it happily. Love gives me purpose. If you’re fighting cancer, know that there is hope. I’ve learned to live every day as my last day. The difference between life and living is whether you find its meaning.

What would you say is the best way to cultivate peace of mind when facing a crisis?

G.E.M.: When you are very clear about what you have and the meaning of your life, you suddenly feel that you can face all problems. I am G.E.M. I am a singer-songwriter. My name G.E.M. stands for getting everybody moving, and that is the purpose of me making music. To me, the songwriting process is sometimes a self-healing process. It helps me to get through hard times.

Deborah James

Deborah James, a British writer, broadcaster, and the presenter of the You, Me, and the Big C podcast was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer at the age of 35.

What has this year been like when it comes to your personal cancer battle?

Deborah James: 2020 has been pretty challenging—weighing up cancer treatment, the risks of COVID, knowing that services have been compromised. But campaigns like Pink Pony enable me to see the power of love when people work together to bring good and change in this world, especially for those living with cancer. Living with cancer is a roller coaster. It has its highs. I’ve learned to love harder, to appreciate every single day that I have here on this wonderful world. But I also have experienced awful lows to face my own mortality, to say goodbye to loved ones. It is in their name that I live every single day.

What would you tell those newly diagnosed with cancer?

DJ: If you’re newly diagnosed with cancer, welcome to the club that you never wanted to be part of, but I promise you that there is a massive community of love, of support, of solidarity, of knowing what it’s like to have that fear at 3 a.m. I also promise you there’s hope. There’s hope of people living with cancer, of people living in a future that they didn’t even know they had. I’m one of those people, and I’m very grateful for that. I wish you all the luck, all the love, all the taking it one day at a time. We are there holding your hand all the way if you’re newly diagnosed. Much love.

How would you sum up what your life philosophy has been through these challenging years?

DJ: My life philosophy is one day at a time. Love gives me hope. I want the world to know that love can make it stronger. I want the world to know that if we love together, we can do great things together.

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann is a radiation oncologist and the scientific director and chairperson of the German Cancer Research Center in Heidelberg.

How can the average person help in the fight against cancer?

Professor Dr. Michael Baumann: Each of us can help by taking prevention and early detection measures seriously. In addition, each of us can contribute to improving cancer research and treatment, for example, by donating funds and by publicly advocating for good research and health care.

What do people not realize about battling cancer?

MB: One thing, which is not really realized, is how important cancer prevention and early detection is. We could prevent up to 70 percent of all cancer deaths if we get better in these fields.

If someone is fighting cancer, what would you want them to know?

MB: We are at your side by performing cancer research for better care in the future.

You can tell a lot about a person ... ?

MB: By how they face challenges.

Ai Tominaga

Ai Tominaga is a model who regularly engages in charity and philanthropic activities. Japan’s first spokesperson for Fashion Targets Breast Cancer in 2003, she is a passionate advocate for cancer care and prevention.

What is your connection to cancer?

Ai Tominaga: Recently, a close friend of mine was suspected of having breast cancer. She’d been having tests for several months. During that time, she started to think more about her life. It turns out she didn’t have cancer, but being around her, I became more aware of just how scary cancer can be. Our lives are so busy it can be hard to take action. Being able to raise awareness of breast cancer through fashion, with initiatives like Pink Pony, is really important.

What does love mean to you?

AT: Love is what connects us during times of struggle and times of joy. I think we’re able to live because of love. Due to the spread of the novel coronavirus, things that were once commonplace are no longer so. But I think as a result, we are now paying more attention to our health than we did before. Having a bright and positive mindset and spending time with our loved ones is what keeps us mentally and physically healthy. You are never alone when you have love—it’s the only thing that matters.

What is your life philosophy?

AT: That which you see fall today may rise tomorrow.

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