It’s National Young Adult Cancer Awareness Week.
…When the idea that anyone between the ages of 15 and 39 deserved to matter in oncology was laughed off—or worse, ignored. When we had no data, no seat at the table, no language to describe what it meant to be 22 years old with cancer, surrounded by pediatric toys or geriatric pamphlets. When “AYA” was not a term, a hashtag, or a department. It was a shrug.
I had the terrible privilege of being there at the very beginning. Back when the movement wasn’t a movement—it was a bunch of pissed-off (largely GenX) patients, survivors, misfits, rebels, and idealists cobbling together something out of nothing because no one else was going to do it for us. We did it anyway. We made noise. We got loud. We made cancer uncool. We put “Stupid Cancer” on a T-shirt, the middle finger on a black wristband, and 1000 people at the Palms Casino in 2012 and dared people to say we were wrong.
This week exists because of all of that. Because people cared enough to fight. Because the institutions that once ignored us now host events, post campaigns, and partner with nonprofits that didn’t exist 20 years ago. And because patients—real, messy, broke, exhausted, brilliant patients—decided being invisible wasn’t an option anymore.
AYA Cancer Awareness Week matters because our generation built a wall of truth around a broken system and called it out. Because we turned trauma into strategy. Because we didn’t want the next 21-year-old to get Robitussin for brain cancer (inquire within if an explanation is needed)
Look around. We’re not in the shadows anymore.
Are we satisfied? No.
Are we proud? Damn right.
What happens next is up to you. The next gen. The ones just finding out what “AYA” even stands for. The ones deciding if advocacy is worth it. It is. But only if you bring the fight with you. And keep receipts.
If you’re new here: welcome. If you’ve been here since the flip-phone era, thanks for sticking around. And if you're a hospital or pharma company quietly watching this week roll by while doing nothing about AYA care the other 51 weeks of the year, you should be embarrassed.
Let’s not forget: we were right to demand better. And we’re not done.
Tag your people. Tell your story. Challenge your hospital. Call out what still sucks. And own what we’ve built. Because we did this. And we’re still here.