“We can act if we want to;
if we don’t nobody will.”
– Men Without Hats, “Safety Dance”
This moment is about Hoya-Thon, Georgetown’s Dance Marathon benefiting Children’s Hospital through the Children’s Miracle Network.
Maybe you’re reading this at the dining hall right now, stirring cereal or cutting your ice cream cone with a knife and fork. Maybe you were flipping to the sports section and the ‘80s reference caught your eye. It doesn’t matter how you got here: You’ve committed to read this far and that commitment is everything.
Last year, Children’s Hospital of D.C. provided $49 million in uncompensated care to children who otherwise couldn’t have afforded treatment. One of those children was Casey Fitzgerald, a 13-year-old baseball star and cancer survivor from the D.C. area.
Casey was diagnosed with a brain tumor at age six, and the care he received at Children’s Hospital not only saved his life but now allows him to participate in saving the lives of others. Stories such as this are what make Hoya-Thon worthwhile and show where the money being raised through Hoya-Thon will help the most.
So let’s forget about our traditional notions of what a dance marathon is. On March 23-24, Hoya-Thon will feature 24 hours of big name bands, DJs, student performances, MTV-style games and raffles. Early that Friday evening, students are going to enter the dance floor, accompanied by Hoya-Thon staff and corporate supporters; and the show will kick into gear. The dancers will get massages, will be fed all day and night and will enjoy entertainment throughout the event. They will also get short, interspersed breaks. Most importantly, the families and kids who benefit from the funds raised will be at Hoya-Thon, cheering them on.
And as long as we’re forgetting our traditional notions of a dance marathon, let’s forget about what we are every other day, whether active or passive in our daily lives and whether we are the makers of the world or if we’ve been made. Let’s do what we can to help, now.
Hoya-Thon has two goals: to produce a quality event that students will walk away from, saying, “I can’t wait to do this again next year,” and to make life better for the kids at Children’s Hospital.
People have tried to convince me that the students of Georgetown are different, that their concerns don’t reach beyond their clubs and their circle of friends. I think we all know too many people at this university with too much passion for us to buy into that, and I will not sell Georgetown and its students short of the love and respect they deserve.
There’s a strange phenomenon about being a college student. You feel a great need to be a part of a cause, but a correlating fear of commitment. You know that you possess the power to do something extraordinary, but you’d rather do it in one broad stroke, when you’ve got enough time and money to give to the world at least a portion of the goodness it has shown you.
Fear of over-commitment is normal. Just consider this: Give 24 hours and save a kid’s life. Have the best time of yours. You’ve committed to come this far, and that commitment is everything.
