This morning I walked into a Starbucks and noted a woman wearing a little pink ribbon on the lapel of her suit. She appeared to be in a meeting, speaking seriously with a small group of people dressed for business.

How great is that, I thought, that she wears the pink ribbon unabashedly, in this October of 2011. She sees nothing wrong with raising awareness about breast cancer, or expressing her concern about this killer of women. Kudos!

In some circles now it’s fashionable to bash pink symbols, to say how breast cancer shouldn’t be prettified, or commercialized, or overblown. What I’d say is, of course, the disease isn’t beautiful, or good, or inherently profitable, or to be perceived as a gift. It’s none of those things.

But we take for granted, lately, how open people are about breast cancer and its complications. Twenty years ago, and even ten, many women I knew took their treatments silently. Few disclosed their illness to others in the community. Many lacked open sources of information or support. For some, breast cancer was a source of shame.

Times have changed, indeed.

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