Profile Allyson Bakos

JENNA GAVENMAN

Walking into the Gavenman household, one would consider it to be your average Sunday afternoon in a typical suburban home. The father watches the Giants Game, their eldest son Sam is off at rehearsal, the mother and youngest son watch a movie in the living room, and middle child, Jenna, surfs the internet on her computer. When I walk in the door, everyone looks exhausted, but still manages to have a smile on their face. Jenna answers the door, and leads me to her room. As I begin to interview her I ask her to show me where everything special to her is. As expected, she shows me various items in her room, and then quietly leads me out to the living room. She then sits on the couch next to her younger brother, and softly says, “Him”.

Jenna Gavenman appears to be your average high school student at Los Altos High School. She keeps busy as a member of the Girls’ Varsity Water Polo and Swim Team and editor of the school’s yearbook. On top of managing these extra-curricular activities with her course work filled with its fair share of AP and honors courses, Jenna has also managed an incredible feat that for most is an utter nightmare, but for her, an ill-fated reality. While on a vacation in Hawaii during January of 2008, Jenna’s younger brother, Max, had displayed abnormal behavior, not only in his personal character, but his overall health. Upon further diagnosis, Jenna’s family discovered that Max had a malignant tumor growing on his Cerebellum, the area of the brain that controls balance and coordina-

the brain that controls balance and coordination. Because of this experience, Jenna exudes how the pressure of life’s unforeseen obstacles can either cause an individual to crumble or allow that pressure to create a diamond. Jenna has had to live a turbulent life through the unknowns of her brother’s condition for almost five years now, and every day she continues to face her troubles head-on with a smile.

Back in her room, I sit down in her desk, while Jenna walks around fidgeting with various items on her walls and counters. The conversation flowed back and forth between various topics. We first expressed our concerns for how the school’s water polo team would perform this season, and how we hoped the new team uniform would look. Soon it was on to what new hot gossip there was and how ridiculous drama is.

After the typical teenage chit-chat was through we moved on to a topic that was much more serious and close to heart for both of us. Jenna asked me how my father was. I replied with a light-hearted, “He’s doing as great as he can be, which is all we can ask.” Two years ago my father was diagnosed with Stage IV Appendix Cancer and almost lost his life. The Gavenman family was incredibly supportive and kept us on our feet through such a turbulent time. In a time where I felt like no one could relate to what I was going through, Jenna showed me that I could and will pull through my troubles and that I was not alone. Every time she asks me this question, her kindness and courage always fills my memory. There was a brief reflective silence, followed by a few awkward chuckles.

Cancer is a skeleton in the closet. One can try and mask the pain and anger it brings through laughter and positive attitude, but at one point or another we are forced to face it. I asked Jenna if she was ready to start the interview, she sarcastically replied, “Let’s do this thing!” we looked at each other, and small awkward giggles came out again.

Prior to the diagnosis, Jenna and Max were incredibly close, always playing together; they even had their own secret club. Jenna was home alone when she received the phone call that would change her life, “I was on the phone with my mother. She was at the hospital with my dad and Max, and they had just spoken to the doctor. I was by myself at home and I was just quiet while we talked. But once we hung up, I didn’t stop crying until I went to bed about 4 hours later.” The mood in the room shifted. Jenna no longer had the emotional capacity to laugh when the silence became uncomfortable, because holding back tears was all she could worry about. Her usually strong and impenetrable exterior began to melt as the story and pain she’d tried so long to bottle up revealed itself. “I just broke down. I did not understand what a brain tumor was. At the time I was facing a lot of friend drama as well, and I felt like I had no one to turn to. But the main thing was not to let Max see us cry. If he had known the pain that the rest of us were going through, I’m not sure if he would have been able to manage.

I’m pretty sure I cried for over a week though.

I just couldn’t seem to stop.”

During the initial three months of her brother’s treatment at Lucille Packard Children’s Hospital, Jenna and her eldest brother, Sam, struggled to cope with the sudden life change. They went from always having a parent home, to suddenly having to take care of themselves and cook their own meals; a very difficult task for mere Junior High students. When I asked Jenna how she tried to cope with the turmoil in her life she said, “I listened to a lot of music to distract myself. I remember that “Love Story” by Taylor Swift had just come out and that was all I listened to for a while. It really had nothing to do with what I was going through, and that was the best part.

When I listened to that and other songs I was able to imagine what it was like to live a perfect life like theirs. I also amped up my swimming a lot. Having an activity that repetitive helped get my mind off of things.”

She also recalls having difficulty controlling her emotions, often finding herself short of temper. Although, everything she has told me matches up completely with symptoms The American Cancer Society describes for those coping with a loved one with cancer.

However, Jenna has made her past tragedy into her present triumph. As she finishes telling me about the hell she and her family has had to persevere through, she transitions back into the strong and self-assured character that everyone knows her for. She takes a deep breath and straightens her posture, then gazes at a poster on her wall which lists everything important to her and exhales confidently and states, “I’m okay,” with a smile.

After what seems to be a never-ending storm of troubles, Jenna proves that she has found a silver lining in such calamity.

Through dealing with her brother’s diagnosis, she describes that, “Going through the research process and living it was such an experience for me. The main thing is that it opened my eyes to what other people are going through. Living with something this big made me realize that everyone experiences some kind of problem like this in their lives. I definitely find myself excusing a lot more rude behavior just based on the fact that I know that they could be going through some rough stuff too.”

People experience Jenna’s compassion when conversing with her or through mere observation. In the midst of our exchange, Jenna’s mom calls her to the living room. I shadow behind her, and notice Max looking very lethargic and uncomfortable, causing immediate concern in my mind. However, without even a word Jenna walks into the kitchen to get Max’s next dose of medicine. She returns in under a minute and proceeds to help him off the couch.

The tumor has affected Max’s speech and movement, making it difficult for him to complete certain tasks on his own. Jenna’s patience never ceases to amaze me. She always remains calm with Max, and does whatever she can to help him. When Max gets frustrated with himself, Jenna reassures him that everything is alright. Although Max may not always be able to express it, his small smile, bright eyes and

nodding gesture that he gives her afterwards assures me that her kindness will always touch a place in his heart that no action or word could ever show his true gratitude.

Jenna’s looking to spread her knowledge and experience with others. Recently she has chartered a club at Los Altos High School that helps raise awareness and funds for children’s brain cancer and tumor research. She wants to share the knowledge and benefits she has learned from her own battle to help others fight their own. Cancer is a skeleton in the closet. But through Jenna’s perseverance and positive attitude, she is able to face her misfortunes and refuse to let them get in the way of how she plans to live her life. What exactly are her plans? “I’m not exactly sure yet, but whatever it may be, I know my family will always be right there by my side.”

WRITTEN BY Ally Bakos