In October, Beaudin and I were asked by the Emily Whitehead Foundation to speak to a local high school group- roughly forty students from both the biomedical engineering and the CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) tracks at the Ranum Innovation Center campus. The idea: to give the students a real-life connection to what they’re studying: Genetic engineering, biomedical technology, the hands-and-heart of healthcare. A lived experience of going from patient to childhood cancer advocate.
Beau was eager to come along and I was glad to have him. I asked if he wanted to do the presenting himself.
Hard no.I asked if he would want to be part of the Q & A. A tentative yes.
“I don’t really know what to say.”
The World Still Spins
The weekend prior, we spent a lazy Sunday afternoon in a library study room, working on our presentation. I decided we could tally all his “events,” as we added pictures to the slideshow. He tallied blood pokes, and bone marrow biopsies, and I reminded him of other surgeries like port removal.
“It’s kind of a lot, if you just look at it all written out like this…” he remarked as he wrote a quote in the upper left hand corner.
The world still spins.
“Why the quote?” I asked.
“Well, you know, in the song. ‘There is no more status quo, but the sun comes up, and the world still spins,’ It was a lot, but now I’m just here, with a dry erase marker and a lot of dates.”
Ask a Question, Get a Hi-Chew
Though he didn’t want to be a lead presenter, Beau took charge of our engagement strategy. We’d stopped at King Soopers on the way down, and he insisted on a bag of Hi-Chews — his idea of a “lure” to get students to engage — ask a question, get a Hi-Chew. I could feel the same mischievous energy that used to carry us through our Philly trips. The energy he brought when he knew I had nothing left in me to push back on his wants.
We used to call it the “Philly rules” — no bedtimes, no junk food rules, no screen limits. Back then it was a coping mechanism, a way to make the hard days bearable as we crawled toward survival.
Stay up until midnight? Sure.
Taste test all the diet sodas from the local bodega? I guess.
But this was different. He held a giant bag of Hi-Chews and grinned at me. Saying yes to the Hi-Chews, yes to candy before noon, yes to his confidant idea— now I was the one with a mischievous energy, one that made me whisper under my breath as we left the store, “look at us now,”
If these students are our future
I spoke to the students for a bit over an hour, detailing Beau’s diagnosis, treatment and what childhood cancer advocacy looks like for us now. I clicked from slide to slide as Beau handed out candy in exchange for questions. I expected rote questions that seemed obvious, but that wasn’t what these students delivered. These students asked questions that cut straight to the heart:
- “Beau, did you feel isolated socially while you were in treatment?”
- “Beau, do you feel like cancer shaped you — or more specifically, how did it shape your character?”
- “Betsy, do you feel like you were supported by your community enough during Beaudin’s treatment?”
- “For both of you, It doesn’t sound like there is an official end, when do you finally celebrate it being over?”
Beau found his groove as more and more questions were asked directly of him. He would glance at me out of the corner of his eye as he made his way through a response. Could he feel this pride oozing out of me?
Being there with Beau — in a building meant for innovation, where we were the presenters and not the patients —felt quietly healing. Seeing the tender curiosity of these students, leaning in, asking Beau questions that invited him to put words to the last seven years, to his childhood, felt like a divine gift.
It started as a speaking gig, but became a quiet liturgy of recognition and healing.
If these students are our future, we are in safe hands.
After the engagement, the sponsoring teacher wrote this email:
A HUGE thank you to you and Beau for coming to our school today and presenting to our students and staff. I spoke with the students afterward, and they were very impressed with the experiences and story you and Beau shared. I have taught for 22 years and hosted many guest speakers and today was one of the most impactful (if not the most impactful) I have seen! The other teachers in the room were also very impressed and found a definite emotional attachment to your experience as a parent. Please share our appreciation with Beau, and I know you are proud of the obviously fantastic young man you are raising.
This is Living, let’s go.
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