On her 20th birthday, third-year physiological science student Rayana Ladd received the best possible gift: a negative test result. Her family carries a genetic mutation for Lynch syndrome — a hereditary condition that significantly raises the risk of cancer. Almost all of her grandparents had cancer. Her mother had her ovaries removed as a preventative measure. Two of her aunts and uncles passed away from the disease. Her brother and cousins, however, weren’t as lucky: They tested positive, meaning they carry the risk into adulthood.
“Cancer is always something that affected my family,” Ladd said.
Pranaya Vijay, a third-year neurosocience and science education student, understands that weight as well. Her two younger brothers don’t have cancer, but they are immunocompromised, often going in and out of hospitals and kept indoors.
“My little brother can’t leave the house because he just gets sick,” Vijay said.
Both women found their way to Bruins Fighting Pediatric Cancer through their personal connection with disease. Ladd currently serves as co-special events chair, which involves handling logistics for events like Cranes for Cancer, an annual event that invites cancer survivors and researchers to speak publicly about their lives, and giving cancer heroes a shadow box of 1,000 folded paper cranes — drawn from a Japanese tradition in which folding 1,000 cranes is said to grant the folder any wish.
Vijay, the club’s president, has spent the year expanding the club’s reach: restarting a volunteer program in the hematology oncology unit at Mattel Children’s Hospital and launching two new programs at a Ronald McDonald House that recently opened in Westwood. The Ronald McDonald House provides lodging, food and entertainment for pediatric patients visiting nearby hospitals.
The Child Life Zone at Mattel Children’s Hospital occupies nearly the entire right wall of the hospital, plus the patio. There’s a toddler area with toys, a craft station with a 3D printer, TVs, a PS5 and Nintendo Switch, a Barbie section, Hot Wheels and a studio that doubles both as a karaoke room and as a green screen room for music videos. During her Monday shifts, Ladd’s job is to knock on doors and encourage kids to come out of their rooms and play in these zones.
Not all children, unfortunately, can play. Some are sleepy or exhausted, having just come back from a procedure. Some are immunocompromised and can’t be around other children. Others are allowed to play, but only with supervision. Ladd often oversees them as they run around, making sure they don’t fall or hurt themselves with their IV poles. She can find those moments difficult, saying no to a child who has already heard no from so much else.
The moments she finds most difficult, though, are also the most beautiful: when she has to part ways with a patient who’s leaving the hospital.
“I had one patient I saw every Monday for six months straight,” Ladd said. “I was really happy that he got to go home because he was feeling better. But that was my buddy. That was a tough day for me.”
These moments are beautiful not just for the newfound freedom the children gain, but also for the new perspective they get to adopt. One patient Ladd grew close to started coming back for checkups after going into remission. The difference in energy was stark. “Some weeks I would see her post-procedure, and she didn’t want to talk,” Ladd said. “But now that she’s coming back for just checkups, she’s like, ‘Do you remember the high school drama that’s happening?’ … It’s different, because they finally get to be a kid again.”
Goodbyes like these aren’t always permanent. That’s one of the misconceptions, she says, of cancer; you’re never really “cured” of it. Cancer comes with a host of other symptoms: disabilities, comorbidity with PTSD, flare-ups and more. No matter what journey these children go through, however, they exhibit a strength that’s both inspiring and heartbreaking to see from someone so young.
Vijay sees that same resilience, only in a different setting. At the Ronald McDonald House, she helps organize activities for families staying close to the hospital during treatment: crafts, karaoke and cooking meals (called Meals of Love) to take some of the burden off of the parents. At a superhero-themed workshop, she found out a child loved Spider-Man. He was walking head-to-toe in Spider-Man gear. “We just had to save the mini-figure for him,” she said.
After one Meals of Love event, a parent pulled Vijay aside. They had received difficult news about their child that day. The event, they told her, had really helped. “Being able to help people in those little ways,” Vijay said, “is definitely what it’s for.”
Both Vijay and Ladd have learned a lot since stepping into their respective roles. in BFPC. For Ladd, it was the difference between pity and genuine awareness. “I think I was one of the people who was like, oh, I just feel bad — pity — and not seeing the big picture of everything that goes with the diagnosis,” she said. “Reflecting back, I wish I would have started seeing the bigger picture earlier.”
For Vijay, it was shedding off some of the fear of cancer — a correction of the idea that having cancer was a death sentence. “Even if it’s stage three or stage four, those labels aren’t fully about severity or chances of survival… it’s mostly about whether the disease is metastatic,” she said. “Yes, it’s scary. But there is hope, and there is work being done, and it is working.”
Both are very vocal in the need for more awareness towards pediatric cancer. Currently, only 4% of NIH funding goes toward pediatric cancer research. Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation, which BFPC fundraises for, uses the money for research, travel costs and medical bills for patients and their families. There are also programs specifically for siblings of pediatric cancer patients, which involve camps, toys and support networks. They can often feel invisible beside a sick sibling. “I think it’s a very overlooked realm,” Ladd said. “A lot of people pay attention to the kid that’s sick, and maybe not their older sibling or younger sibling.”
What seems to keep both of them going, then, is not the larger cause, but the small moments that make the cause real. It is seeing a child smile as he plays Roblox, or tries to teach you Italian brainrot. It is the cherished Spider-Man mini-figure, or the subtle relief on a parent’s face, knowing they don’t have to cook dinner for one night. It is singing karaoke and playing dress-up with Barbie dolls.
It is the community in the club as well. After a hard day’s work, one of Vijay’s favorite moments is eating takeout at Raising Cane’s with her fellow members. She also fondly remembers attending BFPC’s annual beach bonfire, where members are given a space to express their childish joys in friendly competition.
BFPC’s motto is “never letting cancer cloud the joy of being a kid.” After three years of doing this work, Vijay and Ladd have learned that the joy isn’t something you bring to children; it’s something they themselves have kept alive. You can only see it, however, if you’re willing to show up.
