Friends, Donors, Countrymen (and Countrywomen!) ,                                                                               2/7/2011

Lend me your ears! And your complex carbs! Fresh off a successful Walt Disney World Marathon in which I shaved 38 minutes off my personal record, I find myself in need of your help once more. In the recent years, I have run three Boston Marathons, twice for the B.C. Campus School, and once for the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge. I’ve had the pleasure and the honor of running in memory of some of the most influential teachers and mentors I experienced as a student. Last year, I was blessed to be running in honor of a Leukemia survivor, Stanley, who went from waking from a coma to learning how to walk, talk, and eat again to playing full seasons of team sports (especially basketball), all before the age of seven.

With your generous help, last year I was able to raise about $5,000 for basic innovative cancer research at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute here in downtown Boston. This year, though, $5,000 simply will not be enough. I’ve doubled that goal, as cancer has hit particularly close to home.

It’s my grandmother who still holds on to me, sledding down the hill at Mark T. Sheehan High School in one of my earliest memories. It’s Beth Fusco, whose energy and refusal to quit moved me to appreciate the little things in life and to attack each day not just as though it may be your last, as though it should be your best. It’s the enthusiasm of Mrs. Loin in third grade that turned me on to a lifestyle of loving reading. It’s Mr. Pierce’s emphasis on pursuing your passions to the fullest, as if the pursuit, and not the results were all that mattered in life. It’s Mr. Aiello who convinced me that I actually wasn’t the world’s worst math student, and that I was capable of accomplishing anything in the classroom. It’s Stanley, who’s now approaching year two of being completely cancer-free, who got me out the door and back on the road whenever I felt burnt out last year. And this year, it’s Cassie who’s with me every step I take as I brave the elements – the snow, the wind, the snow, and especially, this year, the snow – to train for 2011.

I love my job as a high school English teacher – working with students during their formative years, (hopefully) inspiring them to find and identify their passions in the hopes that they will follow their hearts and lead happy, fulfilling lives. Fortunately, I was rehired at Arlington High this year, though instead of seeing four sections of freshman English, I’d see three sections of sophomores and two senior classes. This meant seeing about thirty former kids every day again this year. On the first day of classes, though, one of my “repeat offenders,” as I call them, informed the rest of her class and me that she wouldn’t be attending class every day, as she had just been diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Cassie elected to pursue an aggressive and rigorous treatment schedule including both chemotherapy and radiation, which left her missing many classes through December. Her presence, her smile, and her positive influence on the class were sorely missed by all. But right before Christmas break, she returned to class, beaming even brighter than before, Santa hat atop her (formerly) “Bald is Beautiful” head. She’d done it. With the help of funds donated to the Claudia Adams Barr program at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Cassie had, as she puts it, “kicked cancer’s ass.”

Though she still misses the occasional class to attend a checkup or follow-up meeting, she realizes how lucky she is, and she’s become a vocal advocate of raising cancer awareness. Her return to the classroom, complete with her love of literature, her motivation to succeed and tackle any adversity that may stand in her way, and her upbeat attitude have injected a burst of vivacity into her classmates.  It’s a powerful experience to see people so young join together to embody a sense of community that cannot be broken by pessimism or even practicality. These kids have rallied around Cassie to show their support and their love, their need for her to not just beat cancer, but to lead a long, fulfilling life.

Now, I’m asking your help to help ensure that we don’t have to lose the Mrs. Loins, the Mr. Pierces, and the Mr. Aiellos. We need those teachers, those motivators, those life coaches in the world to ensure the success of the future. Imagine a world where we don’t have to mourn the losses of our friends like Beth, or our grandparents. But perhaps most exciting is imagining a world that, with even just a small contribution from all of us, ensures that the Stanleys and the Cassies of the world will not be defined as cancer survivors, but as simply “kids.”

Sincerely,

Cassie   &   Justin