An unusual post today. It is not about modeling or immunology. I was just confused by the article published in Science this month.
Of HeLa and Human Lives by Leigh Krietsch Boerner
It is hard to imagine a scientist who hasn’t heard of HeLa cells. Rapidly reproducing and amazingly robust, these cervical cancer cells have become indispensable in modern biomedical research. Their nearly ubiquitous cell line has been used in innumerable experiments that required a human cell culture. It has served in work ranging from the creation of a polio vaccine, to the development of leukemia treatments, to discoveries in cloning and gene mapping.
Despite the vast amounts of scientific data on HeLa, most people know very little about the cells’ origin. Obviously they came from a woman, but who was she? HeLa, from the initial letters of the donor’s first and last names, provides a small clue. Commonly reported as Helen Larson or Helen Lane, her actual name was Henrietta Lacks. But just knowing her name does not tell us that she was poor, that she was black, or that she was largely uneducated. It does not tell us how she died, moaning in agony, in the free ward of Johns Hopkins Hospital in 1951, when she was barely 31 years old, leaving behind five children. Nor does it tell us how her cells were taken without her knowledge and without her consent.
Rebecca Skloot’s The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks does tell us all these things—and more. It gives us Henrietta’s life, laid out like a cell under a microscope. And like any good scientific research, this beautifully crafted and painstakingly researched book raises nearly as many questions as it answers: questions about ethics, racism, and, most importantly, humanity.
Skloot (who teaches creative nonfiction at the University of Memphis) twines together the strands of HeLa cells and Henrietta Lacks and of “Henrietta’s family … and their life-long struggle to make peace with the existence of those cells, and the science that made them possible.” She does that so eloquently one can’t imagine the story being told any other way. Most notably, Skloot presents people in a completely straightforward manner. She does not insert her own opinions of them, just gives us the details and lets us decide for ourselves.
Her approach is particularly important in regards to the scientists, especially Richard TeLinde (chair of the hospital’s gynecology department) and George Gey (head of tissue culture research at Hopkins). TeLinde, who was collecting biopsies from patients for a cervical cancer study, offered Gey samples from which to attempt to grow some cells. Having been trying for over 30 years to establish an “immortal” cell line, Gey jumped at the chance. He and Margaret Gey succeeded at culturing Lacks’s cells and discovered their amazing capacity for reproduction.
In a time when it’s fashionable to demonize scientists, Skloot generously does not pin any sins to the lapels of the researchers. She just lets them be human. The humanity of Gey comes out in particular relief. Instead of spending his time publishing his HeLa results, Gey flew around the country helping other labs set up the culturing techniques he had developed, and he gave away HeLa cells. Eventually, he was scooped by a lab to which he had distributed cells.
Did Gey or TeLinde really see Lacks as a person, possessing rights about what happened to her cells? Likely not: they saw her as a patient. At the time, it was generally held that physicians could use patients treated in a free ward as research subjects (with such use seen as a form of payment). But Mary Kubicek, Gey’s young lab assistant, did eventually recognize Lacks as more than a cell source. After Lacks died, Kubicek was sent to collect additional samples directly from the body. Noticing the toenails Lacks had meticulously kept painted red, she “‘started imagining her sitting in her bathroom painting those toenails, and it hit me for the first time that those cells we’d been working with all this time and sending all over the world, they came from a live woman. I’d never thought of it that way.’”
Anyone who has ever worked with HeLa cells will find it easy to relate to this revelation. Some years back, I injected a drug our lab group had synthesized into a group of HeLa cells. I watched the treated cells through a fluorescence microscope, the blue dots of drug shining out like stars from the white of Henrietta’s cells, and thought, “Who was this person?”
At 16, Skloot asked the same question after hearing about Henrietta Lacks in a biology class. She could find little information then, but curiosity kept the story in the back of her mind. Eventually, she returned to it and spent 10 years researching and writing her book, during which she got Lacks’s reticent family to talk to her.
The book’s first half intertwines the stories of Lacks and the science of HeLa. The second half binds together the author’s own desire to learn Lacks’s story with that of Lacks’s daughter, Deborah. Veering from the road usually trod by journalists, Skloot forms a close emotional bond with Deborah Lacks and becomes a character in her own book. Such a presence can be risky, but she makes it work. Skloot presents Deborah’s emotionally charged story of confusion and loss in the same unassuming style with which she told the scientists’ stories: she does not judge, just tells what happened. And by writing her story this way, Skloot draws in anyone who, like her and me, has ever wondered who was the person from which researchers obtained HeLa.
In the prologue, Skloot remarks, “The Lackses challenged everything I thought I knew about faith, science, journalism, and race.” Similarly, Skloot challenges much of what we believe of ethics, tissue ownership, and humanity. Looking back, it may seem easy to say that those cells never should have been taken from Lacks in the first place. But can you imagine a world without HeLa cells? Without the advancements that they’ve helped us make?
The HeLa cells I used in my experiment, now two years past, still sit at the back of my waste cabinet. I just can’t seem to throw them away. Likewise, the story that Skloot tells is something that will not be easily forgotten. Thanks to the author’s narrative skills, it is a tale that one experiences rather than reads. Through her cells, Henrietta Lacks was already immortal. But with this book, Skloot may make her story immortal as well.
references
Science 26 February 2010: Vol. 327. no. 5969, pp. 1081 – 1082
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot Crown, New York, 2010. 392 pp. $26, C$32. ISBN 9781400052172.
The reviewer is at the Department of Chemistry, Indiana University, Bloomington, IN 47405, USA. Web page: http://ljkboerner.wordpress.com