"You may think I'm not powerful, but I am very powerful."

It is not easy to be a little kid.  There is a lot that cannot be done when one is six years old and barely four feet tall.  That being said, what can be done is incredible.

My husband, parents, in-laws, and I are news watchers and don’t like to sit idly by when we see something we don’t like.  Since their births, our girls have been involved.  Our older daughter was born in the middle of the Orange Revolution and was included in her grandfather’s book which chronicled the events of the revolution.  You could say she was born into political consciousness and fighting for social justice.

At four years old, she decided she wanted to help other little kids in Pakistan and Afghanistan after she learned they needed more school supplies.  Her preschool did a penny drive for Pennies for Peace, but she wanted to do more.  She set up a lemonade stand during my mother’s garage sale.  Filled with a sense of importance and power, she approached every person and told them why they needed to buy lemonade from her, showing them a poster she put together with help from her grandmother.  Penny by penny, nickle by nickle, she raised several dollars and sent them off with a feeling of real accomplishment.

Now it is her little sister’s turn to change the world.  Last year when I shaved my head to raise money for children’s cancer research with St Baldrick’s Foundation, my younger daughter said she wanted to participate, too. At the time her father and I thought she was too young.  We were worried about the physical discomfort of it for her as well as questioning whether or not she fully understood what the event was about. To her credit, she didn’t forget about it or lose focus.  For the last year she has been talking about shaving her head as she watched my hair grow back.  When her school started talking about St Baldrick’s this year, she instantly said she wanted to be a shavee.  We told her to think about it for a couple weeks before we would sign her up.  Again, we wanted to be sure she really knew what she was doing.  We had a lot of conversations about it, and she made a pro and con list. In the end, the only negative she could come up with was her uncertainty about what the actual shaving will feel like.  After her father test buzzed a patch behind her ear, she was 100% ready to go.  We signed her up, and she set her first goal.  “What did you raise, Mama?  I’ll raise more than you.”  She did! In less than 24 hours she reached her first goal of $420. She created a video so she could tell people herself why she was going to shave her head (and compare herself to a Dalek). In less than 48 hours, she passed her second goal of $806.  She has continued to raise more every day since then.

a message from Yaroslava from Alex Yanevsky on Vimeo.

The coolest thing?  It doesn’t surprise her.  She assumed people would want to help children with cancer.  She assumed her voice would be powerful enough to draw people to her cause.  When I told her she hit her first goal, she looked me square in the eyes and said, “I want to raise more.”

This feeling of power is not a selfish power.  She is powerful in her ability to help others.  She wants to raise money for someone else, for children with cancer and for their families who are sad. This sense of power and responsibility spills over into other areas as well.  The girls understand that their actions affect others and that they have a responsibility to contribute positively to their community.  This affects how they treat their classmates and teachers.

We want our kids to be kids and have carefree lives, however we also want them to feel that they can use their voices, that their voices deserve to be heard, and that they should try to fix things when they see injustice.  I do worry about burdening them with too much social responsibility and too much knowledge of the evils of the world.  We heavily filter what info they get from the news.  For example, as we have been glued to the news coming from Ukraine (my husband’s home country), we have only told them basic information.  They know people have died and are being hurt and that Kyiv is on fire, but they don’t know about the torture or see the pictures.  We constantly assure them that their grandparents and other relatives are staying safe.  We show them their grandfather on the news safe and sound to add extra comfort and peace of mind.  Still, they care and want to help.  My younger daughter very seriously put her spoon down during breakfast this morning to tell me, "I want to go to Ukraine. I want to go and find the bad guys and tell them to stop hurting Ukraine. I'll say, 'God loves you and you are supposed to not hurt people.' I really want to go and help the people." I told her we couldn’t go to Ukraine right now, and she glared at me a bit.  Later she asked how much longer till she shaves her head.  I answered three more weeks and she replied, “good.  Then I have time for Ukraine.”  It is certainly tricky trying to keep them in the loop without feeding them too much info or causing too much worry.  Because, in terms of the Ukraine situation, she seems to have set her mind on being a hero again, we will have to come up with a way for her to feel she is using her powers once more.  And then, hopefully, she can spend some time just playing with her Legos or having snowball fights.

If at six years old she has already taken on fighting cancer and an Eastern European bloody regime, what more will she do as she gets older?  And how much can the two girls together accomplish?  And how much can the world change if more little girls embraced the power they have?

Want to help her "save little kids and make their families happy"?  You can donate here. 

*Update* Since she couldn't go to Ukraine is person, Yaroslava sent a message instead.  She made cards for her grandfather to share with people there, and she created this video for them.

Пісня Ясі для людей в Україні from Alex Yanevsky on Vimeo.

"Mom, shave your head."

Last year, I participated as a shavee for St Baldrick’s to help raise money for children’s cancer research.  It was a bit selfish of me, to be honest.  I was seeking closure for what happened when I was a teen.  A friend of mine had been fighting lyukemia for years. We had drifted apart, and I took him for granted until one day my mom told me it was the end.  He was in the hospital, and they were asking for blood donors.  I suddenly valued his life the way I always should have and rushed to the blood donation center.  But they turned me away.  I was anemic and couldn’t donate blood.  Within a week, my friend lost his battle.  I felt useless, powerless, helpless.  Finally, by shaving my head, I was able to do something to help fight.  I couldn’t save him, but I could raise money to help scientists and doctors help other kids.

 

My daughters were part of the whole process.  First we sat down and talked about what I would be doing and what I would look like afterwards.  My younger daughter was a bit skeptical, but was also curious.  My older daughter was hesistant.  She had been very upset when I simply straightened my hair once, so the idea of me shaving my head freaked her a bit.  She understood – at least at a surface level – how scary cancer is, though.  My aunt, a very precious person who is an active presence in my girls’ lives, has been fighting cancer for the last few years.  Sofi reluctantly supported me.

My girls and their friends at last year's St Baldrick's event.

This year, I asked the girls if we should participate again and let them shave my head.  My younger daughter enthusiastically yelled, “YES!”  She had been upset during the shaving process last year, grabbing my hair as if fell and wrapping it in a blanket to save my blue curls, but then liked my bald head. 

 

 

My older daughter just as loudly said, “NO!”  So I said ok and started looking for other charities for us to be a part of this year.

The reason I needed Sofi's permission to participate in St Baldrick's is that we do this as a family. Frankly, my hair matters more to her than to me, so this really is her sacrifice. Whether it was all the talk about it at school or thinking about Aunt Marilyn (Cia-cia to Sofi), the other day in the car Sofi quietly said, "shave your head, Mom."

This year, the selfishness is about giving my daughter a sense of power.  I don’t want her to feel the way I did helplessly losing someone to cancer, only able to watch.  She now monitors our donation page and with each dollar, she feels stronger.  She is part of the battle now.  She made the choice to have my head shaved, she will be with me at the event, and she has even contributed her own money.  Every day Sofi prays, "God be with Cia-cia and don't let anybody else get cancer." She still cries when she prays for her great aunt, but she knows she is not alone. She knows that she is doing something to bring hope to others and to bring scientists money to fund their research.  That is worth every hair on my head.