TRAVIS HOMENUK

It’s the most wonderful time of year. And no, it’s not Christmas. It’s Movember!

On the 1st of November, messages all over the internet, including from peers, encouraged men to shave one last time before growing out their moustaches with the intent of raising funds and awareness for prostate cancer.

Personally, I can’t grow a moustache. Instead, I grow an impressive neck beard, resembling Abraham Lincoln’s.

Admittedly, I’m a terrible person and I don’t actually raise money for prostate cancer. In fact, none of my immediate friends do.

Either I associate myself with awful people who just like a “legitimate” excuse to grow out their facial hair, or there are others like us.

I’m not even convinced everyone is aware that you’re supposed to register online and receive pledges for your attempt at a moustache.

That said, if you grow out your moustache, you’re still raising awareness. However, I find myself wondering what the moustache really does for prostate cancer.

Look at the pink ribbon campaign for breast cancer research. Yes, there are benefits; I’m not going to argue that, so don’t get your underwear in a knot.

But the proliferation of pink ribbons has led to the commercialization of breast cancer. Regardless of what the product is, more and more companies continue to join forces with breast cancer research, placing pink ribbons on their products.

Why do I have to buy a bottle of Coke, a plastic water bottle or sports team memorabilia in order to support breast cancer research? Why do I have to be a consumer to let people know that I care about cancer?

The pink ribbon is now a brand in and of itself. People will buy a product simply because it’s pink or has a pink ribbon on it. I’m sure we’ve all taken part in this.

At 54, my mother is a cancer survivor, but it wasn’t breast cancer; it was uterine cancer. Where’s my ribbon for that? Where’s my coloured bottle of Coke? Isn’t the uterus just as feminine as the breast?

Perhaps the uterus isn’t as marketable as the breast; indeed, the uterus isn’t ‘sexy.’ Even the ovaries have trouble getting attention.

Men, isn’t it funny how we’re now associating moustaches with a very intimate part of our bodies? I guess male prostates aren’t marketable either, at least not in the same way moustaches are.

Who decides this shit?

Just last year I worked at a cupcake shop and we made cupcakes with chocolate moustaches on them. They sold out daily. “Oh, those are so cute,” was the consensus.

And yet there is nothing cute about cancer.

I’m worried that because certain cancers are now so well-marketed, people are forgetting about the rest of their bodies. We’re objectifying ourselves in terms of specific illnesses when our bodies are systems, and should be seen as whole units, not as one part aside from the rest.

If we’re linking the colour pink to breast cancer, a genetically female part of the female sex (though men can get breast cancer too), then it’s safe to say we’re linking moustaches to men and masculinity.

After all, pink is a typically “feminine” colour, and moustaches are a prominent physical symbol of manliness.

What if I truly can’t grow any type of facial hair? Does that make me less of a man?

Aren’t these symbols horribly stereotypical? Awareness about illness has become another way to perpetuate gender stereotypes. Yikes.

What comes to mind when you think pink or see a moustache? A certain type of moustache may carry with it certain connotations. As I’ve noted, I look a lot like Honest Abe right now — or a cute little Amish boy. Whatever.

The point is that these colours and symbols were not picked arbitrarily. Some marketing team has figured it all out.

Cancer is both a business and a disease. It is something we live with and fight on a daily basis.

Please don’t believe that I’m against the spirit of either Movember or the pink ribbon campaign. I want men and women alike to live the longest and best lives possible — cancer-free. If we have to participate in these campaigns to accomplish this, then I’m happy to comply.

And trust me, I know that early cancer detection is key. It’s wonderful that we are raising awareness and funds for research into breast and prostate cancers.

However, I think it’s probably a better use of your time and energy to simply donate your money right to the cause rather than buying a pink or mustachioed product.

Participating in Movember should be more than just growing a moustache, just as the fight to cure breast cancer should be more than slapping a pink ribbon on any product imaginable. I’m being a reductionist, I know, but I hope you see my point.

These campaigns should be about talking to our fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, mothers, wives, daughters and sisters about their bodies and encouraging them (and ourselves) to go for regular physicals.

They should be about communication and awareness. The Coke bottles, moustaches and ribbons are just distractions from the real issue.

Men, I know nobody really wants a cold, gloved finger up their butt — especially when the doctor hasn’t even bought you dinner first — but this simple exam might save your life, or the life of someone you love.

If you see somebody rocking some beautiful facial hair this month, ask them why they’re participating in Movember. Hopefully they have a serious answer to share that goes beyond vanity.

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Illustration: Samantha Braun/The Sheaf