Cervivor Founder: A Voice for Cervical Cancer Survivors and Health Equity This Black Philanthropy Month

When Tamika Felder founded Cervivor, Inc., in 2005, she wasn’t trying to build a national nonprofit with global reach. She was simply navigating her own cervical cancer diagnosis and determined that no woman should feel as alone as she once did.

Today, as Founder and Chief Visionary of Cervivor, Tamika leads an international movement to eliminate cervical cancer and confront health disparities—especially those affecting women of color.

During Black Philanthropy Month—and on Give 8/28, a national day dedicated to uplifting Black-led and Black-benefiting nonprofits—Tamika’s story is a powerful reminder of how Black leaders are driving change in health equity and advocacy. For her, the day is rooted in pride and visibility. “I’ve always been a part of community service,” she says, reflecting on the example set by her parents. “There are so many Black organizations doing incredible work, but they don’t always get the recognition they deserve. Give 8/28 is a day to say we’re proud to lead these organizations.”

Here, Tamika shares her wisdom and advice for others—whether you’re launching a nonprofit or fighting for access to quality healthcare for all.

Finding Her ‘Why’ and Reclaiming Her Voice

One of Tamika’s guiding messages as a leader and survivor is the importance of finding your “why”—the driving force behind your advocacy work and passion. For her, that “why” was born during cancer treatment and its aftermath, as she grieved the sudden end of her career as an up-and-coming broadcast journalist in Washington, D.C., and the loss of her fertility. “Little by little, the trauma had less of a hold on my life, and I began to embrace the possibilities that life beyond cancer could hold,” she says.

A pivotal moment came when she was asked to testify in support of a Maryland law to safeguard parenthood for young adult cancer patients. “Through tears and shaky hands, I shared my story with legislators, and it made a difference,” she recalls. The Protect Parenthood law was ultimately passed in 2018. Since then, Tamika has continued to use her powerful voice—speaking on Presidential Panels and global stages, serving on national roundtables, and appearing in award-winning documentaries and major publications.

“Black Philanthropy Month is about increasing visibility for Black-led nonprofits,” she says. “Some people might look at Cervivor and think, ‘Well, it already has great visibility.’ But until cervical cancer is eliminated, it will always need more.”

Centering Health Equity

Tamika has always been clear: While the mission of Cervivor is universal—cervical cancer prevention and elimination—the path forward must address inequities that disproportionately affect Black and brown women. And she doesn’t mince words about why health equity is central to her work. “We know that there are disparity gaps in this space, and that people of color, especially Black and brown women, are falling through those gaps at a higher incidence,” she explains.

Cervical cancer is one of the most preventable cancers. With the HPV vaccine, Pap tests, HPV testing, and now self-collection options, the prevention tools exist to save lives. Yet Black women continue to face higher rates of diagnosis and death. Tamika believes part of the solution lies in representation: survivors telling their own stories and trusted messengers bringing information to their communities.

The image is a graphic featuring a quote and a photograph. The quote, displayed on the left side of the image, reads: "MY LEGACY WOULDN'T BE THE LIVES I BROUGHT INTO THE WORLD. IT WAS GOING TO BE THE LIVES THAT I SAVED." The text is presented in a large, bold font, with the words "MY LEGACY," "WAS GOING TO BE THE," and "LIVES THAT I SAVED" in teal, and "WOULDN'T BE THE," "LIVES I BROUGHT," and "IT" in red and orange.
To the right of the quote is a photograph of a group of eight women, all wearing white or light-colored shirts with the word "cervivor" printed on them. They are seated on two white couches, arranged in a conversational manner. The background of the photograph features a wood-paneled wall adorned with a large piece of artwork.
At the bottom-right corner of the image, three logos are visible. The first logo, situated closest to the photograph, reads "cervivor" in teal text, accompanied by the tagline "informed. empowered. alive." in smaller text below. The second logo, positioned to the right of the first, displays the name "Tamika Felder" in orange text. The overall design of the image suggests that it may be related to a campaign or organization focused on cervical cancer awareness or support.
Cervivor Noir community members at last year’s Cervical Cancer Patient Advocacy Retreat For Communities of Color in Cleveland, OH.

“When I first started sharing my story, I didn’t see anyone who looked like me,” she says. “Every time I see a Black woman sharing their story and sharing the correct scientific information behind cervical cancer, it makes me feel really, really proud.”

The Power of Patient Stories

Tamika has built Cervivor around the conviction that data alone is not enough. “We gave the data, but we didn’t tell the story,” a researcher once told her. That insight reshaped her advocacy.

“You hear all the time that patient stories are important, but I uniquely got it,” Tamika reflects. “My story makes a difference. The hard parts of my story that I may not want to talk about can make a difference. ”From Cleveland to Rwanda, Cervivor has seen an impact by uplifting patient voices. At a Cleveland Clinic event, Cervivor ensured that “no one was left out of the screening” by providing culturally specific support through Cervivor Español and Cervivor Noir.

These stories matter because they reveal the lived reality of surviving cervical cancer—the hysterectomies, infertility, ostomies, and lifelong side effects often invisible to the public. “If we just let the general population tell it, well, you survived it, you’re doing fine. But I don’t look like what I’ve been through,” Tamika says.

Building Trust and Representation

Trust is everything in underserved communities, and Tamika insists on meeting people where they are. “I go to those communities. If I don’t go myself, someone from my organization goes. We talk to them. We build trust,” she says.

Representation plays a central role in Cervivor’s impact. Tamika works to ensure that photos, videos, and programs reflect diverse survivors. “I never want anyone not to see themselves,” she explains. “There’s something special to be said by connecting with people who’ve gone through what you’ve gone through.”

Resilience and Self-Care in Leadership

Running a nonprofit rooted in lived trauma is deeply personal work, and Tamika is candid about the toll. “There are points where it’s going to be really hard, but when you’re really committed to this work, you’ll find a way to keep going,” she says.

The image is a collage of 84 headshots of women, arranged in six rows, with a light blue background that gradually darkens towards the top. The headshots are presented in white-bordered boxes, each containing a photo of a woman and her name, along with her birth and death years. The women depicted are diverse in terms of age, ethnicity, and attire. At the bottom of the image, the text "WITH CERVIVOR, THEY LIVE ON #ENDCERVICALCANCER" is displayed in white, accompanied by the Cervivor logo in the bottom-right corner. The overall tone of the image is somber, as it appears to be a tribute to women who have passed away from cervical cancer.

Tamika with Lisa Simms Booth, Executive Director of the Smith Center for Healing and the Arts

As a survivor herself, every death in the community is another wound. “It’s another person who’s died from a preventable disease, and so I have to really practice self-care around that,” she shares. Surrounding herself with other Black women nonprofit leaders helps her carry the weight. “It’s a very hard time, not only for nonprofits, but nonprofits run by Black women. Knowing that you’re not alone helps it be manageable.”

Standing Firm on Equity

Even as some organizations shy away from terms like “DEI” or “health equity” in response to political pressures, Tamika refuses to dilute Cervivor’s mission. “Just because we change and don’t call a thing a thing doesn’t mean that we don’t experience it,” she says. “We’ve already had a funder not fund us because of our Communities of Color retreat. And I’m not going to change the name of it. No one is going to die from cervical cancer on my watch.”

Her vision is clear: to leave behind a legacy of courage, visibility, and unrelenting advocacy.

A Legacy of Hope and Action

What began as one woman’s way to not feel alone has become a global movement of survivors, advocates, and educators. Tamika is proud of how Cervivor has connected patients, clinicians, community workers, and researchers. “We’ve inspired patients, educated clinicians, and shifted the narrative around cervical cancer,” she says.

On Black Philanthropy Day, her journey reminds us that philanthropy is not just about giving money—it’s about giving voice, visibility, and leadership. Tamika embodies all three, leading with resilience and purpose to ensure that no one falls through the gaps in the fight against cervical cancer.

Support the Mission

This Black Philanthropy Month, we invite you to support Tamika’s vision and Cervivor’s mission to end cervical cancer through advocacy, education, and community. Here’s how you can take action:  

  • Give $20 on 8/28: As part of Cervivor’s year-long Tell 20, Give 20 campaign, your $20 donation will directly support a Black-led nonprofit committed to health equity for all. 
  • Engage with Cervivor: Follow us on social media, share our posts, and help amplify the voices of cervical cancer survivors and advocates. Your engagement builds awareness, strengthens our community, and inspires action.
  • Attend Cervivor Events: From Cervivor School and monthly virtual meetups to the next Cervical Cancer Summit—your presence makes a difference. Show up, speak out, and stand with us.

Pride and Prevention: Breaking Down Barriers to Cervical Cancer Care for LGBTQIA+ Communities

By Kyle Minnis, Cervivor Communications Intern

Today, an estimated one million LGBTQIA+ cancer survivors live in the United States—a fraction of the nation’s nearly 19 million survivors. But behind that number lies an alarming reality: Queer and trans individuals face higher rates of late-stage diagnoses, limited access to screening, lower insurance coverage, and deep-rooted mistrust in the medical system. Experts warn these disparities may worsen before they improve.

At Cervivor, Inc., we believe every cervix matters. This Pride Month, we’re shining a light on the barriers queer and trans individuals face in accessing cervical cancer care—and how we can work together to break them down. (Missed part one of the series? Read the powerful stories of four courageous Cervivor Pride community members.)

Mounting Setbacks in LGBTQIA+ Cancer Care Access

Over the past year, federal datasets on sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) have quietly been removed from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) websites, setting back critical research and advocacy efforts. Carter Steger, Vice President at the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network (ACS CAN), calls the change “unclear and alarming.”

The setbacks go beyond data. Dr. Mandi Pratt-Chapman, a leading LGBTQIA+ health researcher at the George Washington University Cancer Center, reports that all National Institutes of Health (NIH)-funded LGBTQIA+ research grants—including her own—have been terminated. “We can’t just flip the switch back on,” she warns. “The infrastructure has already been dismantled.”

At the same time, state-level legislation is emboldening discrimination in healthcare. The recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling in United States v. Skrmetti upheld states’ rights to deny gender-affirming care to minors, raising broader concerns about refusals of service.

“Before this immense backlash on LGBTQIA+ civil rights, we were finally making progress,” says Dr. Pratt-Chapman. “As a society, we collectively said—you are part of our community! Now, that message of inclusion and protection—indeed, actual protection—is being torn away in a deliberately hurtful and terrifying way.”

Safe Spaces Are Shrinking—and Medical Mistrust Is Growing

According to ACS CAN’s latest Survivor Views survey, 58% of LGBTQ+ cancer patients fear the current political climate could directly impact their access to care. Nearly half worry that providers may consider it “too risky” to treat them due to state laws.

Cervivor Pride lead Karen North puts it bluntly: “I’m scared. They’re coming for people like me—my identity, my rights.”

Cervivor Ambassador Gilma Pereda, whose adult daughter is a trans woman, shares similar fears: “Being a transgender young woman and neurodivergent is a very bad combo in today’s political climate. I’m terrified. We have a plan B—moving to Mexico City, where I’m from, for universal healthcare. She’s not on board yet, but it’s our last resort.”

This anxiety is becoming more common. “People are trying to move to blue states or Europe,” says Dr. Scout, Executive Director of the National LGBT Cancer Network. “We’re watching our safe spaces and experts disappear before our eyes.”

Even in well-meaning systems, barriers persist. Intake forms often lack inclusive options for sexual orientation and gender identity. Most medical students receive fewer than five hours of LGBTQIA+ health education in their entire training. And in response to political pressure, some hospitals have quietly removed LGBTQIA+-affirming content from their websites to avoid backlash or funding threats.

Dr. Scout

The result? Deepening medical mistrust. “For too many of us, the core issue is not knowing whether a provider will treat us with dignity,” says Dr. Scout. “The simple fix is for more providers to make that clear—somewhere visible—so we can get past the mistrust and through the door.”

This fear often leads to skipped care. Lesbians without trusted OB-GYNs are less likely to get screenings like Pap tests or mammograms. Transgender men may avoid gynecologic care entirely.

But small signals of safety can make a big difference. A name tag with pronouns. A “You’re Safe With Me” sign. According to Dr. Scout, LGBTQIA+ patients are nearly seven times more likely to rate their care as “very good” when they see visible signs that their identity will be respected. 

Gilma highlights “small but meaningful changes” she’s seen at her healthcare provider in progressive California. “The clinic I go to used to be called the ‘Women’s Clinic,’ but now it says ‘Gynecology and Obstetrics,’” she says. (The word “women” can be triggering for many trans men and LGBTQIA+ patients.) “I also remember a sign at reception that said something like, ‘If you don’t feel comfortable waiting in this room, please let us know and we’ll move you.’ I wish I had taken a picture—it really stood out to me.”

The Financial Cost of Care

For many queer and trans people, even seeking healthcare comes with roadblocks—starting with insurance. According to the Cancer Network, LGBTQ+ individuals are less likely to have health coverage, often because employers don’t extend benefits to unmarried domestic partners. This gap is even wider for transgender individuals, who have the lowest insurance coverage rates of any group.

Even with insurance, coverage is not guaranteed. Transgender patients may be denied access to gender-relevant care—such as Pap tests for trans men with a cervix—if it doesn’t match the gender on their insurance card. These mismatches can delay or deny vital screenings.

Gilma knows just how rare affirming, comprehensive care can be. “We’re very privileged to have Kaiser [in the Bay Area],” she says, noting how her daughter was able to update her name and gender in the system and receive respectful care. “That’s not the case everywhere.”

Women in same-sex relationships face similar challenges. They’re less likely to have a regular healthcare provider, often citing cost as a barrier—leading to lower screening rates for mammograms, Pap tests, and colonoscopies, which raises the risk of late-stage diagnoses.

Government safety nets like Medicaid help fill these gaps, but even they’re under threat. “When I got cervical cancer, I was on Medicaid,” says Karen. “That’s what allowed me to get treatment. If Medicaid cuts continue—if the Breast and Cervical Cancer Early Detection Program goes away—that’s terrifying. That program saved my life.”

Karen is referring to the 30-year-old public health initiative that has provided life-saving screenings to women with low incomes and limited insurance. Now, that vital lifeline is at risk. Dr. Pratt-Chapman echoes the concern, warning that proposed cuts could also eliminate federal cancer registries—undermining efforts to prevent cancer and catch it early.

Despite these threats, a legal win offers a glimmer of hope. In the recent APHA v. NIH case, U.S. District Judge William G. Young of Massachusetts deemed the Trump administration’s termination of hundreds of NIH research grants “arbitrary and capricious,” and therefore “void and illegal.” He stated these cuts “represent racial discrimination and discrimination against America’s LGBTQ community,” ordering the restoration of nearly $3.8 billion across 367 affected projects for the time being.

Building a New Kind of Safety Net

Even as the landscape grows more fractured and unpredictable, people are still planting new flags—big, bold, rainbow ones.

Organizations like ACS CAN and the Cancer Network are strongly advocating for inclusive legislation. This includes the Health Equity and Accountability Act (HEAA), which would require the collection of data on sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) in federal health surveys, and the Equality Act, which would explicitly ban discrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and sex characteristics across all sectors, including healthcare.

ACS CAN’s LGBTQIA+ and Allies Engagement Group

These policy fights are being matched by boots-on-the-ground action. ACS CAN’s LGBTQIA+ & Allies Engagement Group supports strategy development, educates advocates, and ensures queer visibility in campaigns and Pride events. In 2025, the organization will appear at more than 60 Pride events across 32 states. 

The group also recently hosted a virtual screening of Trans Dudes with Lady Cancer, a powerful documentary following two transmasculine individuals navigating breast and ovarian cancer care, sparking dialogue about gender, inclusion, and systemic change.

Training efforts are also expanding. GW Cancer Center’s TEAM training offers free, online education for healthcare providers looking to improve LGBTQIA+ cancer care, and a new version, TEAM SGM, aims to provide a deeper dive for oncology-specific scenarios. The Cancer Network also provides Welcoming Spaces training, helping providers build physical and emotional environments where patients feel respected, affirmed, and safe.

Take Action: Stand With the LGBTQIA+ Cancer Community

This is a critical moment. Cancer doesn’t discriminate, and neither should the systems designed to help us survive it.

The challenges are real, but they are not insurmountable—and they are not going unnoticed.

“I want to be in that group of people,” says Dr. Pratt-Chapman. “The ones history celebrates for standing up when it got hard. Hate shrinks the world. Love is expansive. Love brings life.”

What can you do?

  • Contact your elected officials today to protect and expand funding for cancer research, Medicaid, and programs like the Early Detection Program. Take action at act.fightcancer.org.
  • Encourage local clinics and hospitals to provide LGBTQIA+ cultural competency training. Providers can join programs like TEAM or Welcoming Spaces.
  • If you’re a patient or survivor, share your story—you never know who needs to hear it.