Dear John Green
John,
I recently finished reading The Fault in Our Stars (a little late to the bandwagon, I know). I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t heard a million times before, but it is a beautiful book, and reading was a joy (and also, you know, completely and utterly heart-wrenching. But mostly a joy).
A lot of things in the book resonated with me. My mom is going through a relapse of breast cancer, and though she’s doing okay and there’s no time limit or anything, we are basically fighting to make the cancer Not Worse as opposed to Better. I have a hard time talking about it to people so it was sort of cathartic to be able to relate to Hazel and her family in the book.
However, the thing that resonated most with me was how you portrayed the hospitals, the families, and the realities of being sick.
I am very active in Purdue University Dance Marathon (PUDM), which is a campus-wide philanthropy benefitting Riley Hospital for Children in Indianapolis. I assume you are at least moderately familiar with Riley, as you are at least moderately familiar with children’s hospitals (both through you work as a Chaplain when you were younger and through your experiences writing TFIOS) and you live in Indianapolis. And though you only refer to Hazel’s hospital as “Children’s” in TFIOS, I can’t help but feel that it was probably Riley (or at least would have been, in Real Life).
So while I believe you are familiar with Riley, I do not know if you have any idea what a Dance Marathon is. Essentially, the Marathon itself is a celebration of what we’ve accomplished throughout the year to benefit the kids and families at Riley Hospital. Everyone who has raised money as well as a bunch of Riley Families gather for an 18-hour event, where participants are required to stand (and dance, sometimes).
It might sound silly, but I’ve never been a part of an experience that made me feel more bonded with such a large group than while we are all pressing through the agony of tired, swollen legs at 4am, just past the 15-hour mark. We’re miserable but also in high spirits: playing dodge ball, learning the 10-minute group line dance, or interacting with the families and hearing their stories, inspiring us to keep going. We stand for those who can’t; we dance to help them smile; we do it For The Kids (FTK!).
Purdue’s Dance Marathon raised more than $1 million last year, and we are the youngest Dance Marathon in history to accomplish this. We have now raised cumulatively over $2 million in the 10 years we’ve been in existence. We’re still only about half the size of Indiana University’s marathon, whose 36-hour event raised an impressive $2.5 million last year (Dance Marathon is perhaps the only instance where I will set aside the Purdue-IU rivalry and root for the Hoosiers).
The money that PUDM raises goes specifically to help funding Cancer Research, Camp Riley, and the day-to-day operating costs that most people don’t think of but families still have to deal with, such as parking – things that add up surprisingly fast when your child has to stay in the hospital for weeks or even months at a time.
More than anything, I’m writing this because it’s incredibly relevant to TFIOS, and I feel like you should know about it if you didn’t already. I’m hoping to raise awareness about PUDM, IUDM, and Dance Marathons in general. They happen all around the country, benefitting their local Children’s Miracle Network Hospital, bringing joy and hope into as many hearts as they can reach.
A tumblr reblog, a shot-out in a video, or even a tweet would mean the world to us here at PUDM!
To learn more about PUDM and how to donate or get involved, you can visit pudm.org. To learn more about Dance Marathons and to find one near you, you can visit dancemarathon.com.
DFTBA and FTK,
Katie Phillips Purdue University
















