Day 10: Pink Pearls 1 (and politics)

Anyone who knows me knows I love pink. I have lots of pink clothes, wore a pink dress at my wedding, and naturally have many pairs of pink earrings. It turns out I also love pearls - so in my eyes the combination is a match made in heaven. I have two pairs of pink pearl earrings. I purchased these simple ones while holidaying at Noosa with my dear friend Lisa Hill around 1997, so I've had them about for twenty years. I wear them often, and think of Lisa when I do.

Lisa and me, MCA 2016

My friendship with Lisa stretches back further to 1991 when I started at Sydney University. Meeting Lisa was a revelation. A Tasmanian Rhodes Scholar recently returned from Oxford, my first impressions were that she was super intelligent, stylish and hilariously funny: it turns out I was correct on all counts. What I've also come to learn is that she is kind and thoughtful and the most a steadfast friend anyone could wish for. She's counselled me through many tough days -  Telstra has done very well out of our long distance conversations between Sydney and Adelaide over the years. Lisa also turns out to be a talented painter and singer/guitarist playing at the Hillbilly Hoot in Adelaide every week! As I've mentioned in earlier blogs, like me Lisa is an earring obsessive, and we've bought each other many pairs over the years. Her gifts to me will feature in the coming weeks.

Lisa and I have worked closely together in our careers producing an edited book on The Politics of Women's Interests, published in 2006. (The publisher really went all out on that cover!).

A more intense and fruitful collaboration was our co-authored human rights book, with the charming John Chesterman, published in 2010. This book reflected on what we saw as the wind back of rights protections in Australian during Howard years, a trend that has only progressed apace in the proceeding years, supported by both sides of politics. Lisa's important work explains why compulsory voting is such a crucial democratic tool, as demonstrated so palpably in the negative in the US election. Imagine the result in the US if all citizens were required to vote rather than the most disadvantaged actively discouraged!

I am so grateful for my dear friend for many things, including her constant messages of love and support and her willingness to step in now and take on some of my work burden as a co-editor of a special issue of the Australian Journal of Human Rights with my lovely colleague Caroline van Hamm, which will essentially update the material of our book.


I was thinking this morning as I selected these earrings to wear with a pink shirt how pink has become the colour synonymous with breast cancer. Google 'breast cancer'  images and in between a few hideous shots of diseased breasts, its a sea of pink. I hadn't thought consciously about the connection until the I was first diagnosed back in 2009. But all of a sudden I began to feel assaulted and insulted by the pink ribbons and pink girl figures - I find this bcna logo especially offensive - wrapped around every product imaginable. I'm a feminist and want to celebrate the feminine, and understand that for some people the colour might add to a sense of connection and sisterhood. However, to me all this pink seems patronising; it makes me feel like a powerless little girl. It almost feels stigmatising - branded into the pink army of 'survivors'. I often wonder how those men who suffer from the disease feel when confronted by these images. My recoil is also linked to the medical system breast cancer patients are confronted with. The system is still set up so that the (predominately female) patient passively sits across from her (predominantly male) surgeon/oncologist to be told what to do. Many times I have had appointments with my surgeon while he's still been in in his (blue) scrubs - a signal that he is a very busy and important person whose attention you're fortunate to grab for the few minutes you have. To my mind, the pink ocean only reinforces this hierarchy.

Many breast cancer patients have written about their discomfort with pinkness. One of my favourite pieces is from wonderful US writer Barbara Ehrenreich in her book Smile or Die. Click the link for a wonderful review of the book by BBC 4's Woman's Hour, Jeni Murray.

Surely there are better ways, and a greater diversity of colours, that can help draw attention not only to this epidemic but also help raise research funds for all cancers (including the rare ones which we know so little about and mean, as we discovered with Mum, these patients suffer more than most). How about non-gendered RED for power, heat, anger, good luck? (Don't get me started on white emerging the symbol for ovarian cancer!).

This is fabulous song... F U Cancer! by an young Australian country music singer Catherine Britt, is more like it! She won an award at the Tamworth Country Music festival for it last week. Lisa maybe it's one for the Hoot!

Coincidently, I actually had the opportunity to discuss the politics of breast cancer today with Helen, a colleague from ANU who I don't know well, but who has undergone similar treatment to me a few years ago and who also feels as uncomfortable as me with pinkness. She had called to interview me as part of a project on tracking the career trajectories of feminist social science professors but we found ourselves instantly connecting on these issues We are planning to keep in touch. I'm feeling gratitude for this serendipitous connection.


I'm at Day 10 - double figures now - whoo hoo! The day started with an early morning blood test to check the neutrophils in my white blood cells. These are monitored closely throughout treatment as they are depleted during chemo and a low reading requires intervention. Day 10 is around the lowest point. No call back from the oncologist, so mine are obviously fine, but I am feeling particularly tired today, sending me to bed for another nap. I filled the rest of the day with lovely chat with Steph, my UNSW sidekick. Morning tea with wonderful neighbour and friend Katie was a highlight, her gift of a beautiful tea cup - another collection in our house - is the perfect gift now I'm drinking copious amounts of soothing ginger tea.

These beautiful flowers also arrived from my PhD student Kavitha, with the most touching message. Unfortunately, she knows better than most about all this cancer nonsense. I feel so fortunate to have such thoughtful students.