Henrietta Lacks: There’s a little bit of her in all of us
On a hot summer day, Aug. 1, 1920, a woman named Henrietta Lacks was born in Roanoke, Virginia. Though blessed with the gift of life, she was not blessed with the fruits of good fortune. At age 4, her mother died while giving birth to her 10th child. Not too long after, her father moved the family to Clover, Virginia, only to abandon them and leave her to her maternal grandfather.
During this delicate period of her life, she tended to the family farm, located on a plantation owned by her great-grandparents; her living space was tucked neatly into the former quarters of slaves. In sixth grade she was forced to make the difficult decision to drop out of school to support her family. A short while later, at 14, she gave birth to her first child, and then at 18, her second. Compounding the misery, pain and suffering of her childhood, her beloved second child was diagnosed with epilepsy and cerebral palsy.
A bit of breathing room was accorded to Lacks. After drudging through her childhood, she would marry and give birth to three more children. But all good things must end.
All of this would lead to a fateful day in November 1950, where Lacks was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cervical cancer. Yet, unbeknownst to her, her cancer would inevitably seal her fate and her legacy. Doctors from her hospital would go on to collect tissue samples from her uterus only to discover that the immeasurable pain and suffering that Lacks endured would open the door to a new era of scientific research and advancements in medicine. Lacks’s cells were immortal.
Cells typically live for only a short time outside the body. This time is not nearly long enough to conduct studies. Not only that but they can only replicate themselves a finite number of times, meaning that, at a certain point, no more cells will be reproduced. But Lacks’s cells not only survived for long periods outside the body but they also replicated every 24 hours. This natural breakthrough allowed scientists to be able to continually replicate and study real-life human cells outside the human body.
This convenience allowed scientists to develop some of the most widely recognized vaccines, such as the vaccines for polio and COVID19. Lacks’s cells have been used even more broadly to study the effects of radiation, makeup and even space on human cells.
That is right; her cells have been sent to space. In sum, patents that used Lacks’s cells total nearly 11,000.
Most believe it to be a virtue to save the life of one person, but imagine you could save billions. In fact, imagine your endeavors saved people who have not even been born yet, and will not be born for hundreds, and maybe even thousands, of years. Lacks unknowingly did that. And what was she rewarded with for the medical advancements that her cells caused? An agonizing, premature death filled with immeasurable pain and suffering, and a memory fading from the public’s mind.
Lacks’s life story and legacy ought to be taught in schools; she should be posthumously awarded a Nobel Peace Prize; statues and plaques of her should be in hospitals and medical research centers everywhere. For if it were not for her, the many scientists who conduct research on her cells today would not have the legacy they have.
In a thousand years, society may forget who Lacks was, but even then, as is the case now, there is and always will be a little Henrietta Lacks in all of us.