I'm fundraising for Texas 4000! Here's why I ride:

Cancer robbed Chica of one of her most defining qualities--her voice. My grandma, the matriarch of our family who we affectionately called “Chica,” had a sweet southern drawl thick as her famous orange marmalade and a laugh light with childlike glee. She pronounced the days of the week like “Tues-dee” and added an extra syllable to “before” to say “be-fo-wah.” Most memorably, Chica could chat anyone’s ear off with stories of her fascinating life raising four children on her own and taking them on frequent escapades to Mexico (or, “Mecks-ee-co,” as she called it). 

After several recurrences of throat cancer, a tumor finally overwhelmed her voice box. I wish I remembered the last thing Chica said to me before her laryngectomy. All I recall is Chica returning from the hospital with sad eyes and a bright smile as she showed us her new electrolarynx--a small tool shaped like the base of an electric toothbrush that vibrated when she held it against her neck. When Chica mouthed words, a robotic voice came from her lips--a cold, alien sound that completely altered her speaking cadence. There was a sharp learning curve for Chica and our family as she practiced articulating words and we listened and watched carefully to understand her. Chica remained patient and level-headed as always, but I witnessed moments when she was overcome with frustration, scribbling half sentences on yellow legal pads or giving up attempts to convey her thoughts altogether. I remember sitting in my bedroom crying as I watched old home videos of her giggling and chatting. 

While it was harder for Chica to express her love to us verbally, she continued to do so in other ways--making ginger snap cookies and macaroni casseroles for the family to enjoy while she sipped her liquid meals, happily gifting the four granddaughters her old turquoise jewelry and huipiles, and writing us thoughtful letters in her round swooping cursive. Chica was better at loving than anyone I’ve ever met, and that was a quality she was sure to teach to every member in our family. It was evident in the way her daughters massaged her tired hands with lotion and gently brushed her hair when she became bedridden, in the way that her sons grasped her arms tightly as they cheered her up with stories of their childhood tomfoolery, in the way that us granddaughters performed songs and silly dances and made artwork to brighten the four walls she spent the last months of her life enclosed in. When she passed away in May of 2016, it brought immeasurable heartbreak upon my family and so many others she impacted, but her legacy of love, light, and strength is one that will not soon be forgotten.

While Chica is of course so special to me, in many ways her story is not a unique one. Cancer has taken so many beautiful lives, and brought suffering upon patients and their loved ones alike. My heart aches for anyone who has ever lost a loved one to cancer. I ride in Chica’s memory to exemplify the love and service she showed to so many during her own lifetime. To me, there are few things more powerful than hope and solidarity, so above all I want to show cancer patients that there is a community fighting for them. 

Another major reason I ride is to raise awareness for something I’m very passionate about: the social determinants of cancer related to environmental contaminants. I’ve spent my entire college career learning about how BIPOC and low income communities are disproportionately exposed to environmental hazards, which means they suffer disproportionately from diseases like cancer. These communities are far more likely to host landfills, hazardous waste sites, and toxic industrial facilities simply because they lack the financial or political power to demand otherwise. It’s infuriating to me that these cancers are not genetic, but completely preventable and a result of structural bias. Everyone deserves a safe and sanitary place to live, full stop. By involving people in decisions affecting their environment, investing public funds in proper waste disposal, and restructuring society to rely on clean energy, we could prevent millions of lives from being lost to cancer. I ride for all who have experienced the pain and grief cancer causes due to systemic inequality. I ride to educate people on this issue in order to increase pressure on government officials and corporations to engage in fair practices that will protect the health and well-being of all people. 

    If your life has been impacted by cancer, I would be honored to hear your story and dedicate my ride to you or a loved one. Please feel free to reach out to me by email at anaross@utexas.edu!

To Alaska and back with love,

Ana Sofia