The real function of the bracelets is to raise awareness of, and support for, cancer victims. To this end, the bright rubber wristbands have served their purpose well. Judging from sheer numbers, millions of people are avid supporters of cancer research. The question, though, is who wouldn’t be? The real query is how far their support extends. How many of the millions donning the bracelets have done anything for cancer research outside of their purchase? This is not to imply that all of those who "Wear Yellow" are disingenuous. Nike’s advertisement of the campaign has included many who have purchased a bracelet in honor or support of a cancer survivor or victim. Lance Armstrong, the celebrity behind the campaign, is himself a cancer survivor. But with only a binary measure of support -- those who wear the bracelet and those who don’t -- it’s impossible to represent a range of support or perspectives on the cause.
Some, owning many colorful variations on the theme, accessorize wristbands according to their outfit. In cases like this, it seems the meaning behind the statements is all but lost. What emerges in its place is a fashion statement. ,People, Us Weekly, and other fluffy pop culture magazines have published pictures of celebrities sporting the bracelets in the same presentation they use for the hottest new purse style. The Olympics all but made the yellow bands a must-have, given all the talk of their adornment by sports superstars. Many of the Nike athletes showed off their bracelets during competition; some athletes, such as John Moffitt (second in the long jump) wore two. The strength of the fashion trend was substantiated by the sale of the bands on eBay for more than their official $1 market value.
Another worry of over-exposure is potential politicalization. In the same way the Livestrong bracelets have strapped themselves to millions of wrists, "Support Our Troops," car magnets have assumed an almost natural role on millions of bumpers. Like the bracelets, few would counter the cause they promote. Even liberals opposed to the Iraq war are hard-pressed to lash out against soldiers who had little or nothing to do in the decision- making process. Yet, these magnets have become almost a self-proclamation of neo-conservatism. Rarely will you find them next to an Amnesty International sticker or Darwinian fish, though Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry and others frequently spoke of troop support. Similarly, prominent display of the U.S. flag has attained, if not the same stigma as the magnetic "Troops" ribbons, then something very close to it. Right-wingers have taken the patriotic symbol of our country and distorted it into a pervasive show of bigoted nationalism. These examples raise the question: If the materialization of an issue becomes politicized, does the issue itself assume the same status?
The major dilemma we must resolve in light of this new form of commercialism is whether it’s right to exchange informed, multilayered, driven activism for monetary support and shallow publicity. The latter serves as an immediate boost for any cause; millions of dollars have been raised for cancer research -- an agenda that arguably can’t afford to bide time. The former is far less fickle. Perhaps this is the most unsettling thought. Fashion trends are subject to the ebb and flow of time. Today’s hot new must-haves will be passé in a few months. It’s hardly inconceivable that Livestrong will fall among the likes of Beanie Babies, Furbies and Boys II Men. When this happens, does caring about cancer research become a thing of the past -- démodé? A couple years from now we might very well discover that, while temporarily holding some value, materialization threatens the longevity and strength of a cause. 
Anna Duchon is a sophomore from Decatur, Georgia.