Cervivor Stories

Cervivor University Founder: “What I Didn’t Know About Cervical Cancer — and Why That Had to Change”

By Johari Tello

Johari Tello is a double master’s student at Purdue University studying the history of medicine and public health. Alongside her graduate studies, she works in a hospital setting, where her experiences with patients and healthcare systems continue to shape her academic and advocacy work. A former Cervivor intern, she is the founder of Cervivor University Purdue — a student-led initiative dedicated to expanding cervical cancer education and awareness across campus. 

In honor of National Women’s Health Week (May 10 to 16, 2026), we asked her to share how she found purpose in personal family loss and tackling the gaps in women’s health education. 

Johari Tello, founder of Cervivor University Purdue

I first learned about Cervivor Inc. and Tamika Felder in the fall of 2024, during my junior year at Purdue University. I was enrolled in a History of Women in America course taught by Wendy Kline, Ph.D., a professor whose classes I had been taking since my freshman year. Dr. Kline is one of those educators who doesn’t just teach material; she creates an environment where curiosity feels natural and where personal experiences are just as valuable as the readings themselves.

During that semester, we spent time on the history of cervical cancer, including the development of the Pap test, the work of Georgios Papanikolaou, and ethical discussions surrounding Henrietta Lacks. One day, Dr. Kline showed us a documentary about five women and their experiences with cervical cancer. After the film, she focused on one story in particular, Tamika Felder’s.

Then we opened the floor for discussion.

The documentary that Dr. Kline showed Johari’s class features Cervivor’s founder Tamika Felder (top right).

That’s when something hit me that I haven’t been able to shake since. In a room of about 60 women — college-educated, engaged, and thoughtful — only about three people could clearly explain what cervical cancer was. Maybe 10 had undergone a Pap test or screening, but most didn’t actually know what it was for. I was one of them.

It became painfully obvious: There was a serious gap in the education we were receiving.

A Family Story Rewritten

That moment didn’t just stay in the classroom — it followed me home. Growing up, the death of my paternal grandmother was something that quietly lingered in the background of my life. She passed away before I was born, so everything I knew came from my father’s memories. He always told me she had died from ovarian cancer, and because I had heard that it could be hereditary, it left me with a sense of uncertainty about my own future.

After that class, I went home and started talking with my family about what I had learned. That’s when my father paused and said something that shifted everything: His mother had actually passed away from cervical cancer, not ovarian cancer.

What followed was one of the most meaningful conversations my family has had. My father grew up in a small, semi-rural town in Jalisco, Mexico, where access to healthcare was limited. The nearest public hospital was about an hour away, and barriers like cost, transportation, and trust meant that many women didn’t seek formal medical care.

Johari with her father, Pedro, whose mother died from cervical cancer
Johari (at right) and her family

With the help of my sister, who is a nurse, and the information I had just learned in class, we were able to talk openly about what cervical cancer is, how it develops, and how preventable it can be with proper screening and vaccination.

That conversation replaced uncertainty and stigma with understanding. It gave us clarity — and, in a way, peace. Instead of something we avoided talking about, my grandmother’s story became something we could learn from.

For me, it reinforced just how powerful — and necessary — education is.

Why Cervical Cancer Education Matters for Young Adults

The gap I saw in my classroom wasn’t just academic; it had real consequences. College is often the first time people are fully managing their own healthcare. It’s when they begin to understand their bodies more independently, ask questions, and make decisions about their health.

It’s also when key preventive measures begin, like the Pap test at age 21 and the HPV vaccine recommended beginning at ages 11 to 12 (and available from age 9 through 45). But if students don’t understand what these measures are for — or why they matter — they’re less likely to prioritize them. Also, removing stigma early can shape health outcomes for a lifetime.

Closing this gap matters now more than ever. It’s not just about more information — it’s about more accessible, relevant education that meets people where they are. Bringing cervical cancer education to college campuses creates space for students to learn, ask questions, and engage in conversations that are too often missing from traditional education. 

Building Cervivor University at Purdue

After that initial class, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had seen and learned. The following semester, I took another course, History of Patient Voices, taught by Dr. Michelle Labonte. For a major project, I chose to focus on Cervivor and the history of cervical cancer, particularly the stigma surrounding it and how that stigma has shaped both public perception and medical treatment.

For months, I immersed myself in research. The more I learned, the more inspired I became by the work Tamika and Cervivor were doing. Eventually, I decided to take a leap of faith. I reached out to Dr. Kline and asked if she could connect me with Tamika. She gladly did.

Dr. Kline was a guest on the Cervivor Podcast in February 2025 after the publication of her book, Exposed: The Hidden History of the Pelvic Exam.

When I contacted Tamika, I shared how I had learned about her story, my personal connection through my grandmother, and my concerns about the lack of education I had witnessed. Then I pitched an idea: starting a collegiate chapter of Cervivor at Purdue.

She loved it.

Last summer, I had the opportunity to intern with Cervivor, working closely with Tamika on developing what would become Cervivor University Purdue. That experience was incredibly formative. I was able to learn directly from patients, advocates, medical professionals, and public health experts. Hearing their stories and understanding the broader impact of this work made everything feel even more urgent — and more possible.

Johari participated in Cervivor’s Communities of Color Retreat in New Orleans last year.
Members of Cervivor University Purdue

Creating Community and Impact on Campus

Our first semester has already been incredibly meaningful. We’ve built a strong and supportive community of students, many of whom are future healthcare professionals. We’ve hosted events that bring both awareness and compassion into the conversation, like making Valentine’s Day cards for cancer patients at local hospitals and clinics in the Lafayette area.

We’ve also welcomed inspiring guest speakers like Cervivor Ambassador Tiera Wade and AYA cancer survivor and Stupid Cancer founder Matthew Zachary, who shared their stories and offered insight into what effective advocacy looks like. These moments have helped our members see how education can translate into real impact.

Beyond our events, we’ve started building an online community to expand our reach and continue these conversations outside of meetings.

Stupid Cancer founder Matthew Zachary did a virtual talk with the group.
Cervivor University Purdue made Valentine’s Cards for local cancer patients.

Looking Ahead: Expanding the Movement

Looking ahead, our short-term goal is to expand our outreach both on campus and in the greater Lafayette, Indiana, community, with a stronger focus on education and accessibility.

Long-term, I hope Cervivor University Purdue can serve as a model for other universities, encouraging students across the country to start their own chapters and join this movement.

I’ll also be staying at Purdue to pursue my master’s degrees in the history of medicine and public health, which will allow me to continue growing this organization and deepening its impact.

What started as a single classroom moment has turned into something much bigger. It showed me how powerful education can be — but also how dangerous it is when that education is missing.

Cervical cancer is preventable. The tools are there.

Now it’s about making sure people actually have the knowledge to use them.

If you’re interested in starting a Cervivor University chapter at your school, we’d love to hear from you — reach out at [email protected].

Watch the moment that Johari announced Cervivor University Purdue at the 2026 Cervical Cancer Summit Powered by Cervivor, Inc. 

Cervical Cancer Prevention: Real Survivor Stories, Real Lessons About Early Detection 

By Kyle Minnis, Cervivor Communications Assistant

Cervical cancer prevention graphic with teal ribbon and survivor portraits of Nia Casey, Ayanna Bass, and Trish Byerly, highlighting early detection awareness

For Cervivor community members, cervical cancer prevention isn’t abstract — it’s personal. It’s the difference between a routine screening that catches precancer early and a diagnosis that comes too late.

That’s why National Cancer Prevention and Early Detection Month — first recognized last April — matters. More than 2 million Americans are diagnosed with cancer each year, yet many of these cases could be prevented or detected earlier with the tools we already have.

Cervical cancer is one of the clearest examples. With HPV vaccination and routine screening, it is largely preventable — and even on track for elimination in countries like Australia, Rwanda, and Sweden. Still, each year, about 13,000 people are diagnosed with cervical cancer and more than 4,000 die from the disease, according to the American Cancer Society. 

So what’s getting in the way?

Too often, it’s missed screenings, delayed follow-up care, or the persistent myth that symptoms will appear first. They usually don’t. For many, unequal access to care plays a major role.

“We have the tools to stop cervical cancer before it starts or catch it early, when it’s most treatable,” explains Cervivor’s Founder and Chief Visionary Tamika Felder, a 25-year cervical cancer survivor. “But those tools only work if people have access, information, and the support to use them.”

Here’s what to know about cervical cancer prevention — and what real survivor stories reveal about early detection. 

What Does Cervical Cancer Prevention Really Mean?

Before we dive into the stories, here’s a quick look at what cervical cancer prevention means. It’s not a single step — it’s a continuum focused on stopping cancer before it develops and catching changes early, before they become life-threatening.

  • Primary prevention: The HPV vaccine protects against the virus responsible for nearly all cervical cancers, as well as five other HPV-related cancers.
  • Secondary prevention: Routine screening (Pap and HPV testing) can detect precancer long before symptoms appear.
  • Follow-up care: Abnormal results require timely monitoring or treatment — skipping this step is one of the biggest gaps in care. 

When cervical cancer is found early, treatment is often simpler and more effective — sometimes requiring surgery alone — reducing the need for chemotherapy or radiation and, in some cases, helping preserve fertility.

But guidelines alone don’t save lives.

Cervical cancer survivor stories show what happens in the gaps — when screenings are delayed, or follow-up care is missed. Here are three Cervivor community members whose experiences highlight both the power of early detection and the consequences when prevention falls through.

Nia’s Story

Nia Casey

At 33, West Virginian Nia Casey was a busy mom of two, and routine gynecologic care had fallen off her radar. Years earlier, she’d had abnormal Pap results and follow‑up procedures, but life moved on. In 2024, despite feeling healthy, something prompted her to schedule a checkup. That decision changed everything. Her results came back abnormal, leading to additional testing, a procedure, and ultimately a cervical cancer diagnosis.

“I felt completely fine — no symptoms, nothing that would have made me think something was wrong,” she recalls. “If I had waited until I ‘felt’ something, my story could look very different.”

Because her cancer was caught early, her treatment was more straightforward, and her outcome was positive. “Routine screening is truly what saved me,” she says.

Looking back, she reflects on the gap in care. “Abnormal results don’t just ‘go away’ because time passes,” she says. “Life gets busy — I’m a mom, and I put myself on the back burner — but that gap could have cost me so much more.” 

She continues, “Staying on schedule isn’t just a recommendation, it’s protection. Even if it’s been years, it’s never too late to go back.”

Now, her message is simple: “Don’t be scared of the appointment — be scared of skipping it. One simple check could save your life.”

Ayanna’s Story

Ayanna Bass

Growing up in Texas, Ayanna Bass had never missed a Pap from age 18, and her September 2020 screening was normal — yet she still felt something wasn’t right. Since 2014, she had raised concerns about heavy cycles, but appointment after appointment, she was told it was likely related to having her tubes tied. Still, her instincts pushed her to keep asking questions.

An ultrasound finally raised a red flag. “Not even two minutes into the exam, she stopped and told me I needed a biopsy done to check for cancer,” Ayanna recalls. A week later, she learned she had cervical cancer, later staged at III.

The diagnosis hit hard as a mother of two girls. “The most difficult things for me were asking for help and not being able to take care of my kids,” she says. Treatment — including radiation, chemotherapy, and brachytherapy — took a heavy toll. She leaned on her faith and music, especially “You’re Gonna Get the Glory.”

For Ayanna, early detection was also about finally being heard. “Early detection isn’t just about routine screenings — it’s about advocating for yourself,” says Ayanna, who completed Cervivor School advocacy training in 2022. “There should be more listening, more follow-up, and less dismissal. If symptoms continue, there should always be a next step.”

Today, her message is clear: “If you feel like something is wrong, keep pushing until you get answers. Nobody knows your body like you.”

Trish’s Story

Trish Bylerly

Trish Bylerly of Virginia first faced cervical precancer at 20, undergoing a cone biopsy and LEEP. After years of normal results, she was told at 38 she didn’t need a Pap that year — but something still felt off.

When her already heavy periods worsened, her primary care doctor listened, ordered an ultrasound, and “truly [became] my ally,” Trish says. A biopsy revealed a visible mass, and she was sent to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center for urgent evaluation.

Her diagnosis came quickly: stage IB2 cervical cancer. She chose a radical hysterectomy with lymph node removal — a decision that proved life-saving when cancer was found in her lymph nodes. She then completed radiation and chemotherapy.

The night before surgery, Trish decided to donate her reproductive organs and tissue for research at the National Institutes of Health and the National Cancer Institute. “If my contributions can help another woman avoid the path I’ve taken, then every moment has been worth it,” she says.

Radiation left lasting side effects, and adjusting to the “new me” took time. Today, the 2025 Cervivor School graduate encourages others to speak up, push for answers, and find providers who take their concerns seriously.

Prevention Works — But Only If We Use It

These survivor stories remind us what’s at stake: Delayed care can change the course of a life, while early detection can save one.

Preventing cervical cancer isn’t complicated. But the tools — HPV vaccination and screening — only work when people can access them, get accurate information, and have the support to take the next step. 

As Cervivor founder Tamika Felder has shared, “Communities of color, people in rural areas, immigrants, people without reliable insurance, and those facing language or transportation barriers experience higher risks and lower access to vaccination, screening, and timely treatment.”

When we remove those barriers, prevention becomes possible — and lives are saved.

Want to learn how to advocate for yourself and others, like other Cervivor community members who’ve turned their pain into purpose? Join us at the upcoming Gynecological Cancer Survivors Retreat Powered by Cervivor School during the last week of September 2026. Register today!

About the Author 

The image is a portrait of a young man with dark skin and short, curly black hair. He is wearing a blue collared shirt and black-framed glasses, and is smiling at the camera. The man has dark skin and short, curly black hair. His hair is cut close to his head, with a slight fade at the sides. His eyebrows are thick and well-groomed. He is wearing a blue collared shirt. The shirt is a medium blue color and appears to be made of a lightweight material. It has a relaxed fit and is buttoned up to the top. He is also wearing black-framed glasses. The frames are rectangular in shape and have a subtle curve at the temples. The lenses are clear and do not appear to have any tint or coating. The man is smiling at the camera. His smile is wide and genuine, showing off his white teeth. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, giving him a friendly and approachable appearance. The background of the image is a plain gray color. The gray is a medium tone, neither too light nor too dark. It provides a neutral backdrop that allows the subject to stand out. Overall, the image presents a friendly and approachable young man who appears to be confident and comfortable in front of the camera

Kyle Minnis is a recent graduate of Strategic Communications at the University of Kansas with a passion for digital media, storytelling, and audience engagement.