The stereotypical story of a magazine is a story of economic necessity: thanksgiving comes only after enterprise has come into profit. The story of this magazine is atypical in that it started as a thanksgiving and, happily, never quite graduated from that.

After recovering from breast cancer, Suzette Romero-Andrews was transformed and she determined to give thanks to the Lord and to celebrate her new lease on life by embarking on an enterprise that would contribute to the cause of cancer advocacy. But what enterprise? A foundation, perhaps? A donation campaign? In the end, she boldly went where no cancer survivor had gone before and decided to publish a magazine on cancer—to the alarm of family and quite a few friends, who knew all too well the usual fate of many a start-up publication.

But she was determined and had already taken the first steps; and now, time to call in the cavalry. Enter Dr. Francisco F. Lopez, one of just a handful of bone-marrow-transplant specialists in the Philippines and the medical oncologist who had saved Suzette from her cancer; Ferdie Figueroa, an enterprising marketing director whose adolescent daughter had earlier beaten down leukemia after a bone-marrow transplant by Dr. Lopez; and Achilles Mina, an editor who had quit his job to take care of his wife, Dr. Lopez’s charity patient.

As it turned out, the aborning magazine would have a core group whose members, to a man (and woman), had come into the project with a personal handle on cancer and a private wish to use that unique perspective to help others. The group, already uniquely bound from the get-go, would further coalesce under an overarching mission: To inform, to shepherd, to inspire, and to empower.

Today, just four years and some months after the magazine’s four founding members met for the first time, The Big C, in ways expected and not, is very much a veteran, having experienced the many obligatory pains of local publishing and some of its rewards too. It has shouldered through typo and editing gaffes, missed deadlines (horrors!), and scrabbled and scrambled after elusive, interesting stories and interesting but ever-itinerant interviewees—the doughty cancer survivors and their gallant cadre of physicians and care givers.

It has also gone beyond the borders of the printed page to bring the word out: allying with organizations in the medical and oncological fields (including the Philippine Society of Medical Oncology, the Philippine Society of Hematology and Blood Transfusion, and the Philippine Oncology Nurses’ Association), helping sponsor major conventions on cancerhood, and actively participating in cancer symposiums and forums. And in 2007, on a rainy but otherwise warm-hearted day, the magazine reached out to little hearts when it held “Oh, My Kulay,” an art contest for kids with cancer at the Philippine Children’s Medical Center.
Through all this, the magazine has managed to achieve something surprising and, perhaps, something unique in the business: winning as a newbie in the prestigious Catholic Mass Media Awards three years in a row. (The magazine has actually received six honors from the annual CMMA—three awards and three certificates in three categories—in just three full years of publication.)

The Big C is a small magazine, but it has become, we think, a not-so-small voice for the cancer survivors and their families. You see, you need a big voice when you’re up against the big, but conquerable, C.