The kids' Saturday morning activities were over, so our little family of four jumped in the car and headed off to a bar. I promise, it's not how we usually spend whatever "family togetherness" time we have on weekends. But I was heading out to see something that I thought my kids shouldn't miss, either. It was a fundraising strategy with a twist; a parishioner had raised money for children's cancer research by promising to shave her head, and I wanted us to be there as witnesses and supporters.

When we arrived, there were a number of people who had just come from the Mardi Gras parade or similar venues, and it was a pretty rowdy crowd. But there were also veritable hordes of people who were there to support the good people of St. Baldrick's, the organization behind this mass shave-off. We were a pretty rowdy crowd, too, as it turned out; there was no clear way to tell where one group ended and the other began. As a side note, if saintliness requires abstinence from all Budweiser and related products, I'm pretty sure there weren't many saints in that crowd (at least among those over age 21).

Donna Erickson, the member of my parish we were there to support, would not want to be described as a saint. But she's definitely someone who regularly puts the needs of others ahead of her own comfort. She raised two sons as a single mom, is the lead ER social worker at Cardinal Glennon Children's Medical Center, and has been a major source of energy and organization for our parish mission trips for years. She's also a complete delight to be around-funny, sharp, honest, and direct, Donna has a keen eye for hypocrisy and cant, with little patience for those who make excuses instead of working for justice. As she told me, seeing too many children die of cancer over the more than 30 years she has worked in pediatric healthcare has raised her awareness of the need to make a financial contribution to researchers working toward a cure.

So it was a pleasure and a privilege to stand there and cheer while Donna had her head shaved. She was in good humor, smiling the whole time. The St. Baldrick's event is well-organized; when we arrived we saw a whole slate of volunteers being shaved together on stage and realized there had been many such groups up there throughout the day. Men far outnumbered women; the St. Baldrick's website states that so far in 2011 there have been over 28,000 male "shavees," compared to only about 3,500 female ones. But Donna's group included several women, and I have to admit that it was quite poignant for me to watch as their hair fell to the floor in big locks and hunks.

Perhaps it's silly, but women tend to be emotionally invested in their hair-and not entirely because of vanity. With all the pressure on women to look good all the time, what we do with our hair tends to be a fraught issue, and one we really can't win. If we have a hairstyle that draws too much attention to itself, we're accused of lacking depth and gravitas, but if we are too utilitarian about it we run the risk of seeming unprofessional, out-of-touch, or seeming like we just don't care. Most women I know have struggled to find a style that is just right, neither too glam nor too harsh, something that doesn't cost a fortune or take forever to "do" in the morning. I'm not sure I can think of a single female friend who loves her hair just the way it is, although not all of them fret over it much, especially after they reach their thirties. I once confessed to my best friend that I felt like a bad person when I spent too much money on hair care products, and my friend, one of the most sensible and frugal people I know, comforted me by saying, "Let's face it: you have complicated hair."

Now I know there are worse fates in life than having complicated hair. Nonetheless, I suspect that a few of the tears I shed while I watched Donna's head being shaved were really about me, not just about how proud I felt of her sacrifice. There's at least a small part of me that's sick of all the time and energy I've wasted in my life worrying about the small stuff, hair included.

When I asked Donna to talk to me about what led her to take this particular challenge, to leap into the abyss of hairlessness, her answers were trenchant and thoughtful. She mentioned that recently several friends and family face have faced or are facing cancer, so the issue is much on her mind and heart. She also noted that she looks for opportunities to "do something noble or simply right" that goes beyond writing a check for a good cause. More of her thoughts follow, in her own words: 

I don't ‘grow' my hair, or ‘make' bone marrow or blood cells...those are processes God instituted and which my body does automatically. If they can symbolically, or literally, be used to the service of others then I feel an obligation to give.

It appealed to my sense of drama and bold gesture - and challenged me to examine my ideas of beauty and self. I love being older and not being so afraid of what people think of me. I also have been pleased to discover that I am NOT my hair! Trusting that I am loved and known intimately by a God who knows the number of hairs on my head, I'm eager to see if they'll all be given back to me - and in what color!

So many people have said how brave they think I am...and I know that's not true. The truly brave ones are those children and adults who don't get a choice about losing their hair. This was a lark for me; it's life and death for them. And there's a wonderful sense of camaraderie in making a statement and standing with someone on the front lines of cancer.

Maybe Donna isn't really a hero; maybe it was a lark for her to have all her hair cut off like that. I still find it incredibly moving. One of the best things about it is that, every time I see her, I think about what she did. She becomes a symbol, a living witness, to the hopes, dreams, challenges, and needs of children living with cancer, as well as their families and caregivers. Without saying a word she reminds people that there are children whose lives are being cut short by disease, and that there's more we can do to help.

Apparently a lot of other people have been impressed by this slightly wacky but incredibly compassionate fundraising method. According to a St. Baldrick's press release, "The Foundation funds more in childhood cancer research grants than any organization except the U.S. government." And they've recently topped $100 million in money raised.