Personal Narrative: Pink Out

I could feel the chilly October wind blowing through my hair. Suddenly, I felt the woman bring her scissors up to my head and snip! The tears flooded down my face, but surprisingly, I was smiling wider than I ever had before.

Each October, my high school holds an annual Pink Out football game. At halftime, we have a ceremony, during which girls cut their hair to donate to make wigs for women with breast cancer. My freshman year, I found this pretty unique, but I could have never imagined myself participating. That was MY hair that I spent hours brushing and years growing out. As our Pink Out game approached during my sophomore year, I couldn’t help but to think that my cheerleading coach, who organizes all the events at the big game, was completely insane as she continued to encourage me to donate my long locks after I already said there was no way. Somehow, however, her persistence paid off. I found myself surrounded by pink, in the middle of the football field, instantly realizing how selfish and childish I had been all those days I had told my coach no. …show more content…
They would always be the first ones to volunteer for a school event or have a dollar to lend to every homeless person we saw on our frequent trips to the city. It wasn’t until the woman cut off my hair that I realized why my parents were always willing to help; it feels so much better to give than to receive. The sorrow I felt about losing my hair was miniscule compared to the satisfaction I felt about being able to help a woman, fighting one of the toughest battles in life, to feel beautiful again. I finally understood what John Wooden meant when he said, “You can’t live a perfect day until you do something for someone who will never be able to repay