Movember gives activism a facelift

November is a time of midterms, impending winter, receding daylight, and of course, the moustache. For those confused with the last item in that sequence, allow me to explain. You may have noticed a sudden and disturbing increase in the number of half-baked moustaches passing you in the hallways as of late, and wondered why a facial feature now seen by many as passe makes such a strong resurgence. In the early days of the month, it began as a campus-wide influx of five o’clock shadow, and now, nearing November’s halfway point, perversion levels at the University are nearing their zenith.

However, the point to all this moustache growing seems nebulous. Word of disparate charities and friendly competitions pepper most conversations on the topic. My own, foisted upon me by the raging testosterone of a resurrected office tradition, is a source of shame and pride — shame for my nose-tickler’s sparsity, and pride ... well, considering the current state of my ’stache, I had to swallow a fair amount of pride to showcase it in print.

Perhaps the popularity of the tradition lies in its values. Many enter such contests having pledged to push ‘stache for the good of charity. The origins of such an odd celebration of manhood — and womanhood, for those willing to let their pits and legs run wild — are murky, but its nearly undisputed home is Australia, where rumours and an old news report from the 1999 hint at the infancy of the tradition as rooted in the city of Adelaide. There a group of men, looking to raise money for an animal rights charity, began whiskering-up for their already-furry friends. It seems fitting that now the Movember Foundation, which has raised over $45 million for male-centric charities such as prostate cancer, finds its home in Australia.

The charitable nobility of a certain few is admirable and noteworthy within the tradition, but still brings any curious enquirer no closer to solving the widespread appeal of Movember. For 30 days, a dislike for cookie-dusters that has been widely agreed upon the world over, is suspended. Isn’t there a better, less self-deprecating way to raise money for charities? Our own campus, despite being filled with new moustaches, has very few events or programming dedicated to the effort.

Whether followers of Movember feel compelled to grow a moustache for charity, competition, or just to follow the herd, one element of constance seems to run through any group competing for walrus-faced glory — a complete lack of effort. True, it’s never your fault should you need to shoulder the social burden of sporting a wispy, amateur moustache, but when all arguments for or against Movember fall loudly to the table, it remains that growing your hair in peculiar ways won’t likely impact your day-to-day productivity.

But within that non-committal core lies another intrinsic truth to Movember, a fact that easily explains its wildfire spread from Australia to North America — accessibility and acceptance to anyone willing to let their appearance go for a month.

While the point of Movember might at times seem evasive, and while it might be conducted for different reasons, or for different charities in different places, its rise in popularity has been driven two-fold. First, by the motivation of charity, and second, by the strength of camaraderie and inclusion between both men and women.

It seems that whether Movember is held for charity, competition, or just to follow the herd, it’s abundantly clear that sometimes it’s not just an action, but its spirit and motivation that brings individuals together to create something seemingly pointless, and utterly worth investing ourselves in.