Just a couple of weeks ago, I logged into my Facebook and saw that I was tagged in a friend’s status. It was a video of someone pouring a bucket of ice water all over herself and nominated me, along with a few others, to participate in something called the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.
I remember feeling quite confused about a couple of things. First, — and I’m embarrassed to admit this — I had no idea what ALS even was. Second, what did soaking yourself with ice water have to do with anything? My attention was held for only a few moments before I lost interest and continued binge-watching Mad Men on Netflix. I had no plans of getting ice water poured on me, nor did I feel any connection to the cause my friend’s video was promoting.
Eventually, I became one of those people who went from ignoring the Ice Bucket Challenge to downright criticizing it; I did so while still not understanding what it was raising money and awareness for. All I knew was that my Facebook feed was flooded with people getting ice water dumped on them, and, quite frankly, I was tired of it. “Another one bites the dust,” I would think, feeling proud of myself for not succumbing to peer pressure like everyone else. Besides, wouldn’t donating money be more effective than posting a silly video on your social media account? What was the point?
Fast forward a few weeks, and I was finally motivated enough to go online and find out more for myself. After just a few moments of research, I was no longer ignorant about the devastating effects of ALS. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis is a horrifying neurodegenerative disease that slowly and painfully robs its victims of the ability to control their muscles, speak, swallow and even breathe. Also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, ALS comes in stages, each more devastating than the next, and usually results in death from respiratory failure within a few years.
As I scrolled through various descriptions of the disease online, I could feel my heart racing when I tried to imagine how it must feel to be diagnosed. And then, as I continued to learn about ALS and the desperate need for research funding, I felt an uncomfortable emotion well up inside of me: shame.
I felt shame for rolling my eyes at everyone posting videos of the Ice Bucket Challenge. I felt shame for sarcastically remarking that throwing ice water on yourself doesn’t raise money. Most of all, I felt shame for self-righteously deciding that ALS wasn’t worth all the hype.
According to an ALS Association press release, there have been more than $70 million donated from July 29 to Aug. 24, compared to only $2.5 million raised during the same time period last year. But even if the Ice Bucket Challenge hadn’t succeeded in raising millions of dollars for ALS research, everyone who participates is performing a compassionate service.
The people affected by ALS must have an incredible amount of courage to face a disease with no cure or treatment. At the very least, the rest of us can bring attention to their hardship. The Ice Bucket Challenge gives us a way to talk about ALS and acknowledge the struggle of those living with it. If it weren’t for the challenge, many people wouldn’t have become informed about the devastating nature of ALS, myself included.
To the ice bucket haters: Don’t be so hasty to dismiss something that brings hope and encouragement to so many people. Though the Ice Bucket Challenge might seem silly on its face, these viral stunts have the potential to inspire powerful and meaningful action.
Moriah Camenker is a public relations senior. Her columns appear on Tuesdays.
[A version of this story ran on page 6 on 8/26/2014 under the headline "In Defense of the Ice Bucket Challenge"]
