When Stupid Cancer Rang the NASDAQ Opening Bell
Every once in a while, something comes up in conversation that stops you for a second and makes you realize just how much time has passed.
Not long ago, someone asked me about the day Stupid Cancer rang the opening bell at the NASDAQ. They talked about it like it had just happened. I nodded along and then later did the math. It has been just over ten years. That honestly surprised me. It still feels recent. The details are still clear. The energy of that morning has not really left.
Back in November 2015, we found ourselves inside the Nasdaq MarketSite in Times Square, getting ready to open the market. That sentence still feels strange to write. Stupid Cancer started as a scrappy response to a real problem. Young adults with cancer were falling through the cracks, and too often they were facing diagnosis, treatment, and survivorship without a community that truly understood what they were going through. Ringing the Nasdaq bell was never the goal, but it became one of those moments that told us we were being seen.
That morning was not about finance or markets. It was about visibility. It was about putting young adult cancer front and center in a place the entire world watches every day. Standing there with cameras rolling and screens lighting up Times Square, it was impossible not to feel the weight of it. This thing we had built with survivors, caregivers, advocates, and allies had reached a global stage.
Matthew Zachary rang the bell on behalf of a community that had spent years being told they were too old for pediatric care and too young for traditional adult cancer spaces. It was a simple act, but it carried a lot with it. It said we exist. It said our stories matter. It said young adult cancer deserves attention, resources, and respect.
What stays with me most is not the prestige of the moment, but what it represented for the people watching from hospital rooms, apartments, dorms, and infusion chairs. For some, it was proof that they were not alone. For others, it was the first time they had heard the words young adult cancer spoken out loud on a big stage.
Looking back now, with a decade of distance, that day still feels significant in a quiet way. It was not a finish line. It was a checkpoint. A reminder that awareness can open doors, that showing up consistently matters, and that small organizations can make a lot of noise when they are rooted in real experience.
It is wild to think it has been over ten years. Time moves fast. But that morning in Times Square still feels close. And the sound of that bell still carries everything we were fighting for then, and still are now.
