I am a writer who lives outside of Cincinnati, Ohio. Officially, I matriculated through some places with street-cred, but my real education happened everywhere else. Places with the opposite of street cred. Careless places I’d probably deny so fast and repeatedly, I’d make Peter look good. Oscar Wilde/Chrissie Hynde kind of places (We are all of us in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars)
After stumbling into parenthood at the turn of the century, I tried to make sense of all these broken pieces: first through writing classes then pen to pen with some very special people. Just when it appeared humpty dumpty was on the mend…
Stunned into an uncharacteristic inability to communicate, I tried to break the silence with a blog that recorded the dailies ~ katie’s little c. After a year of slash, burn, and poison, the fog began to lift and I took a look around at the landscape of breast cancer. I didn’t always like what I saw – the messages, the images, the industry, and sweet fancy moses, all that PINK. In 2009, I launched Uneasy Pink to address these issues and took on people and organizations with ferocity.
But more important than any word I wrote, I met women all over the world who were doing to same thing. One spring, I even got to meet some of them in our nation’s capital. We dined in the windowed top-floor hotel restaurant, laughing loudly and obscenely and oblivious to the ruckus a few blocks away people as people reacted to the stunning news that Osama bin Laden had been removed from the earth.
A few months later, the fun stopped when I hit a milestone like a brick wall ~ my first friend died of breast cancer. Within a couple of months, another dear one did too, one of my DC dining friends. On that same day, another woman I’d met in DC died. It’s still too big to understand. All I can do is accept.
But I couldn’t get back my Uneasy Pink magic. Blogging came in fits and starts, but I stopped believing in the work. A sort of cyber-depression set in as I wondered about the futility of it all – what was the point if I couldn’t even save my friends’ lives. My tag line was “making peace with breast cancer/making meaning out of chaos.” There seemed to be no meaning to be made in their deaths. But the world kept turning.
And I had to choose – keep turning with it or give up. I finally mustered the courage to start a third blog, one to contain all those other turnings without diluting the breast cancer message. So here we are. Thanks for visiting, please comment if you feel moved by the spirit. You can also fill out the contact form below to contact me privately.
~ Katie Ford Hall