For years, business leaders have relied on the guidance and support of career coaches to help them advance in their professions and to achieve clear personal goals as well. But nurses traditionally haven’t used coaches in the same way. All that is changing as nurse coaches are becoming more common and helping nurses achieve success.
As with other types of coaching, nurse coaching appeals to and works for nurses who are looking for vastly different things. Some nurses feel stagnant in their jobs and want someone to help them get unstuck. Other nurses are unhappy with their current situation and might even be questioning an entire career change. Still, others are nearing retirement and want to stay involved in nursing, just without the demanding physical tasks and long hours—they wonder if a new career as a nurse coach might suit them.
Career coaching is nothing new in the larger world of business, but nursing lags behind, says Linda Yoder, PhD, MBA, RN, AOCN, FAAN, president of the Academy of Medical-Surgical Nurses and an associate professor at the University of Texas at Austin School of Nursing.
However, the nursing profession is gaining a better understanding of coaching, adds Yoder. In some organizations, coaching takes on a negative connotation because they view it as something to help only poor performers. Coaching is for everyone and serves to enhance personal as well as team performance.
Nurses have particular difficulty reaching out to coaches, says Phyllis Quinlan, PhD, RN-BC, who sees many nurses in her nurse coaching and consulting practice, MFW Consulting.
“Professional caregivers are very reluctant to receive help,” says Quinlan. So by the time some of them arrive at a coaching session, they feel like their backs are up against a wall and they need some stability. They might be experiencing compassion fatigue or have been on the receiving end of bullying. They think a coach can help, but they aren’t sure how.
So, how can a coach help you? Nurse coaches are especially valuable because they understand the complex industry of nursing. They get the professional side of what a nurse trains for and a nurse’s myriad responsibilities. But nurse coaches also understand how the nursing profession is also a way of life. They get that there’s no punching the clock and leaving your job behind when your shift is over.
Is It Coaching or Mentoring?
When Margaret Erickson, PhD, RN, CNS, APHN-BC, executive director of the American Holistic Nurses Credentialing Corporation (AHNCC), thinks of coaching, she thinks of the whole profession. “The role of coaching allows nurses to reconnect with each other and it has value in society,” she says.
Nurses find they have resources to help themselves, but coaching just helps reveal those resources and show nurses how to use them. Often, Quinlan says, nurses are able to reignite their initial passion for becoming a nurse in the first place. They can remember why they took this on as a career and are invigorated by the boost.
Coaches guide, but never tell someone what to do. “Part of coaching is asking powerful questions,” says nurse coach Keith Carlson, RN, BSN, NC-BC, also known as Nurse Keith. “Coaches are there to offer guidance and objectivity and to inspire people.”
Not everyone understands what coaching is, what it does, and what role each person plays in a coaching relationship. “People lump it into mentoring, and that’s a huge mistake,” argues Yoder, who presents nationally about nurse coaching. Nurse coaching helps nurses with their growth and development, which serves to increase their confidence.
How are coaching and mentoring different? Although coaching and mentoring both aim for a similar goal—to make the nurse the best nurse he or she can be—there are differences in the approach. “Managerial coaching, technically, is really a boss/employee relationship,” explains Yoder. “Mentoring is an exclusive relationship that plays a role in succession planning.”
Does that mean your boss will always be a great career coach? No. But a good boss will motivate you, show you how to do a good job, and let you know the educational, professional, and personal steps that will help you advance.
So while your boss should coach you on how to fill out a unit shift report, she might be less likely to take you under her wing and shape you into her replacement. Your coach can instruct and guide you on the subtle ways of your organization so you advance in your job, but coaches don’t share what Yoder refers to as “state secrets”—those nuggets of insider professional information that are often exchanged in the fundamentally different trust and power levels of a mentor/mentee.
And Carlson reminds nurses that coaching isn’t psychotherapy, either. There might be introspection and lots of questions to be answered, but a coach is going to rely on you to figure out some of the answers based on what your own motivations are.
Nurse Coaching Takes Hold
When Donna Cardillo, RN, CSP, known as The Inspiration Nurse, started coaching 20 years ago, hardly anyone else was in the field of coaching nurses. “Even personal coaches couldn’t effectively coach a nurse because they didn’t understand what nurses were capable of or the job market,” she says. With more nurses acting as coaches now, she says they are using a body of experience, skills, and knowledge to help other nurses with problem solving, identifying strengths and weaknesses, and following through on goal setting.
With nurses under increasing job stress and the pressure to earn higher degrees, burnout is rampant. If your job is causing you so much stress as to affect your physical and emotional well-being, start thinking of ways to make it better, says Erickson.
“Coaches know the game,” says Yoder, comparing nurse coaching to the job of a sports coach. “They know the big picture, how the game is played, every single player, and what position each player plays best in. The coach has to understand the game better than anyone else.” Coaches get to know their players and know how each works so they are able to best motivate them and make the entire nursing unit operate more effectively.
Coaches also are focused on the present. Erickson’s work is guided by the Modeling and Role Modeling holistic nursing theory, which was developed by Helen C. Erickson, Evelyn M. Tomlin, and Mary Ann P. Swain. According to Erickson, using theory rather than policies and procedures to assist others helps coaches become intentional and thoughtful in their approach to each nurse or client.
Sorting It All Out
A nurse coach helps you tweak the complex intertwined aspects of your personal and professional life to bring you more career satisfaction and help you set and reach your goals. “A coach focuses on what are your goals and what are you going to accomplish this year,” says Yoder.
For instance, coaches will get you thinking about if you want to go back to school this year or if you want to take a certification exam. Should you join a professional nursing organization, and how can you make the best out of that experience?
Kamron Keep, RN, BSN, NC-BC, says coaching helped her focus on what she really wanted. “I felt like there was a missing piece, personally and professionally,” says the Idaho-based Keep, who is now a nurse coach herself. With her coach, Keep says she uncovered her motivations and identified what was holding her back. “Working with a coach held me more accountable,” she says. “Coaching helps someone take the step forward. It helped me live the life I wanted.”
Linda Bark, PhD, RN, MCC, NC-BC, Keep’s coach and the founder of Wisdom of the Whole Coaching Academy, says she asks clients to think about their options and will even have them assess how they feel physically when thinking about each option. It’s that kind of holistic approach that shows nurses how the corners of a career, personal life, and spiritual life are all connected. “The wisdom of the whole is about taking in all that information,” says Bark.
When’s the Time to See a Coach?
Carlson says he sees several categories of nurses who come to him for coaching advice. Most of the nurses he sees want something else, but they just don’t know how to define or identify what they want or how to take the steps to get it.
Novice nurses, he says, are trying to find out what makes them tick as a nurse. Maybe they went into nursing with a specific path in mind but now want to branch out, but have no idea where to start. With so many opportunities and choices, they are bewildered.
Then, he says, mid-career nurses come with very different ideas. They have years of experience, but nursing has lost its luster. Or now they want to do something different, but stay within the nursing industry. These nurses typically want to find out about nurse entrepreneurship.
Older nurses are looking for someone who understands the profession, says Carlson, and who can help the nurse figure out the next step. They often want to stay in nursing but are looking to shed the long hours or the physically demanding tasks. “For seasoned nurses, it’s often trying to find the heart of why they became a nurse in the first place,” he says. “Sometimes they need redirection, and sometimes they need a major change.”
Is One Coach Enough?
Throughout your life, you’ll have several coaches. Some coaching relationships will be less involved—one might simply be a unit educator who coaches bedside nurses. A charge nurse might be the coach for practice kinds of issues, says Yoder, to let nurses know how they can most effectively work with different families.
If you aren’t getting the feedback you need at work or if your boss is unwilling to act in a coaching role, there are other options. A growing industry is, of course, nurse coaches you hire. These nurse coaches are certified after passing the AHNCC’s certification exam and aim to give nurses a sounding board and guide them to the best choices for their own specific lives and goals.
And although coaches won’t be holding your hand and guiding you on a specific path, says Carlson, they are listening closely to everything you say and probably seeing patterns or wishes you may not even see. You’ll likely have homework to do, something that helps you feel empowered about the choices and decisions on the horizon.
“Sometimes, it’s just about the act of being truly heard and having those experiences reflected back toward them,” says Carlson. “Being listened to is incredibly powerful.”
Many nurses find that being heard by a coach is so empowering they turn the table at work and use the same method with their patients. “Coaching enhanced my nursing practice,” says Keep. “A lot of that is a listening presence and reflecting back to the patient to validate what they say.”
Quinlan agrees. “Coaching very gently raises the ability of a client to reach out and touch their own innate knowing,” she says. Successful coaching helps clients understand their true feelings and motivations so they can peel away the layers of confusion and help remove some of the barriers for nurses to move ahead. Coaches offer a toolbox of skills nurses can use to move forward in the direction that’s best for them.
As nurses become more comfortable with coaching, Quinlan says coaches are becoming more prevalent and many older nurses are considering a career shift to become certified coaches. In particular, she says, nurses approaching retirement who have decades of experience and a wealth of knowledge are perfectly positioned to take on nurse coaching roles, either on their own or within their workplace as a designated coach on staff.
“Coaching can help you if in your head you know what you need, but in your heart you don’t know how to get there,” says Quinlan. “Coaching helps you untie the knot.”
Stereotypes of school nurses primarily dispensing aspirin, taking temperatures, and offering hugs are rooted in nostalgia.
These days, school nurses increasingly handle a growing number of students with chronic or serious health issues, provide emergency care, and connect with community partners to provide additional health services.
Despite the vital role that these health professionals fulfill for students, there is a lack of full-time public school nurses to help meet the well-being of students, especially in urban school districts. Only 30% of public schools have a full-time school nurse, according to a 2007 study by the National Association of School Nurses (NASN).
Additionally, only half of schools have a registered nurse 30 or more hours each week, according to a 2014 School Health Policies and Practices Study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Informing the public about the expanded role of school nurses and the consequences of their absence benefits students, their families, and communities, nursing experts say.
“Because school nurses practice independently as the only health care provider in the education setting, they need the critical-thinking skills that bachelor-prepared nurses develop,” says Beth Mattey, MSN, RN, NCSN, president of NASN. To this end, NASN recommends a bachelor’s degree in nursing as the minimum preparation for a school nurse.
“Many states require ongoing education to maintain an RN license and/or a school nurse certification,” Mattey continues. “NASN provides ongoing education through resources, clinical guidelines, webinars, and other online education courses. We also sponsor hands-on learning and conferences to keep school nurses abreast of current practice.”
Evolving Role of Nurses
“When schools don’t have a school nurse, there is not a health professional to help students manage acute illness and chronic conditions in the school setting,” says Mattey. “Students don’t leave their health issues at the door, and many chronic conditions must be managed during the school day. This includes students with diabetes, asthma, life-threatening allergies, epilepsy, and sickle cell disease. Children who live in poverty are at greater risk of having a chronic condition and unmet health needs.”
The average adult thinks about his or her own education decades ago and assumes every school has a nurse and the health needs are the same, says Nina Fekaris, MS, BSN, RN, NCSN, president-elect of NASN.
“Unless you are a parent of a child with a chronic illness or a life-threatening disease, you just don’t think these things are in schools,” says Fekaris, the only nurse assigned to four schools serving 4,200 students in her suburban school district in Oregon. “They don’t understand what school nurses do and they don’t understand that kids are more fragile that are attending schools now. There’s a lot more care coordination that needs to happen in school buildings to keep kids safe.”
Fekaris, who has been a nurse for 40 years and has 30 years of experience as a school nurse, says the growing number of students with type 1 diabetes is a major health change. When she first started, there were none; now, there are about 150 diabetic students, including kindergarteners, in her school district.
Advances in medical treatment and technology have also altered the practice of school nursing. For example, one treatment device for children with seizure disorders is an implanted device under their skin that delivers an electrical pulse to a nerve in their neck. “At the sign of seizure, what we want to do is activate that device to fire an impulse to try and stop the seizure, and the way you activate that is by swiping a pretty powerful magnet across that device in their chest. Thirty years ago we didn’t have that technology,” explains Fekaris.
Greater Needs at Urban Schools
Students in high-poverty urban areas are especially vulnerable when schools lack an adequate number of nurses, says Maura McInerney, a senior attorney at the Education Law Center, an education advocacy group that champions the hiring of more nurses.
“The consequences can be devastating, and I don’t think that the average citizen recognizes the critical role school nurses play in the health, safety, and education of school children,” McInerney says.
Without access to full-time nurses, students may not receive urgent or accurate and timely treatment at prescribed intervals. And, children with special education needs may not be identified or receive nursing care, McInerney adds.
“Perhaps what is most striking is the number of children with qualifying disabilities such as diabetes and asthma, who fail to receive Section 504 Plans that are critical to supporting them to attend and be successful in school. Finally, school nurses are important teachers and counselors and are often the first people to identify a child’s need for health interventions and counseling services,” says McInerney.
There are 180 nurses for 332 Philadelphia public schools serving 200,000 students. In 2011, the district had 289 school nurses. By the 2013-14 school year, that number had dwindled to 179. In March, the district announced the number of school nurses would be increased with the goal of a nurse at every school. “At that time, 123 schools had no full-time nurse and 17 schools had a nurse one day a week or less,” McInerney says. “We hope this happens, and ELC is fighting for more funding to under-resourced schools in Philadelphia and elsewhere to make this a reality.”
Unfortunately, sometimes it takes a crisis to spotlight the need for school nurses and drive changes, says Robin Cogan, who has worked 15 years as a school nurse in Camden, New Jersey. “In Flint, there was one school nurse. They now have nine school nurses. It shouldn’t take a tragedy to get a school nurse in every building,” she argues, referring to the 2015 water crisis in Flint, Michigan, that involved lead contamination.
Mattey recalled a Philadelphia student, 12, who died from an exacerbation of her asthma two years ago. “The severity of her asthma was unrecognized on that day because the school nurse was not scheduled to be in the school. The School District of Philadelphia had been having financial difficulty and school nursing services were cut,” Mattey says.
For working parents, the presence of a nurse can help them decide to enroll their child if he or she has a chronic condition, says Cherisse Howell, RN, supervisor of staff education, school health nursing, at the Montefiore Health System, one of the largest school health programs in the nation. A school nurse “gives a parent a sense of security that I can go to work and provide for my family and still feel safe that my child is OK because there is a nurse at school,” says Howell, a nurse since 2005.
Having a nurse or school clinic gets children into the building because parents share the positive experiences of the health services, Howell says. The Montefiore Health System has clinics inside elementary, middle, and high schools and provides primary, dental, mental, and community health services to over 30,000 students at 85 schools on 23 campuses.
“We transitioned from what many thought of as the school nurse… when nurses were doing ice for injuries and Band-Aids for boo boos,” says Howell. “We’ve moved to an era where, specifically in the Bronx, we have thousands of children suffering from asthma and our diabetes cases are rising. We have children with health disparities that would otherwise keep them from school. We now have these health professionals in the educational building, and children can get the treatment they need and the instruction they need simultaneously.”
Outreach and Partnerships
The volume of students treated and the complexity of their medical care require school nurses to form health care partnerships, says Lynn Meadows, RN, MS, coordinator of student health services for the Fulton County School System in Georgia.
“We can’t just do the job in a clinic. You have to partner with a local physician or a health organization in the community because it’s a team approach now of how we take care of kids,” says Meadows, a nurse for 30 years and a school nurse for 15 years. “It’s not just a school nurse trying to manage the health care needs of kids while they are in school. Yes, they are in school…but they also go home. So that collaboration and networking with health care providers outside our clinic obviously keeps that continuity of care better for kids.”
Many school nurses seek professional development to keep up with the changing care dynamic that students require, which is why partnerships are important. School districts are looking to school nurses to be caught up on health issues that can impact the community, Meadows says.
“For instance, regarding the Zika virus, my superintendent will look at me and ask, ‘Well, what should our school district’s response be to a community health issue like Zika virus?’ So I have to be up to snuff. I have to find partners that I can work with to say, ‘What is the latest, how does this impact the community, and ultimately, how might it impact the school?’ Whatever is the hottest topic or health care issue going on in the community, school nurses have to be aware of it,” says Meadows.
School nurses arrange for mobile dental clinics to visit schools and mobile vision vans to visit and provide eye exams and glasses for students who may not have those services available, says Mattey.
School nurses also work in schools and the community to promote tobacco education and cessation programs, educate students about prescription drug abuse and other substance abuse, provide immunization services for students, encourage exercise programs, and educate about healthy eating.
School nurses not only play a key role for helping students learn, their presence assists educators. One study found teachers spend less than 20 minutes each day dealing with student health issues when a nurse was assigned to their school.
Data also showed students with asthma have improved attendance and better health outcomes when a school nurse managed asthma, says Mattey. Furthermore, immunization rates also improve when a school nurse is present.
“What administrators and school districts need to know is that not only do school nurses keep students in school by addressing health issues so they can stay in school, school nurses save money,” says Mattey. “A recent JAMA study demonstrated that for every $1.00 spent on school nurse service and resources, $2.20 was saved in societal costs. The study did not take into account reduced emergency room visits due to early intervention by the school nurse,” she adds.
“Consider the case of a child with a severe peanut allergy, and every day when your child goes off to school you hope that your child is not exposed to peanuts. A school nurse recognizes the potential emergency, works to make the environment safe for the child, and ensures that emergency plans are in place in the event of an exposure to peanuts. The school nurse will educate the staff on the signs and symptoms of an exposure and how to prevent the exposure in the first place,” says Mattey. “There are many health conditions children bring to school. The professional school nurse has the expertise to educate and work to prevent an emergency, but if an emergency occurs, the school nurse will recognize the emergent condition and take action.”
School nurses juggle an array of demands despite their salaries being among the lowest for RNs. However, in some areas, school nurses are paid on the teacher salary scale, which also includes benefits. For school nurses on the lower end of the salary scale, lack of understanding about all they do is a factor, nurses say.
“Traditionally, the profession of school nursing has been looked at as someone in the clinic just handling little boo boos,” explains Meadows. “There isn’t widespread public knowledge of what it takes to be a school nurse, or the volume of kids with chronic illness or medical issues. There is not enough information in the community or across the nation on how school nursing has evolved. Many people don’t get that.
“School nursing has changed. It’s a profession on its own. For many of our children, the first health provider many of them see is the school nurse. I tell many of my nurses, ‘You can be the person who finds out what is going on with that child and make a difference in that child’s life for the rest of his or her life,’” Meadows says.
Although school nurses affect educational settings, taxing working conditions can compromise their effectiveness in treating students. If the school lacks a nurse, or if the school nurse “has a workload that makes it difficult to adequately educate all staff and follow up with parents, there may not be adequate protection for students,” argues Mattey.
“The ANA has a saying, ‘Nurses are an investment in the future, not a cost center.’ I say the same about school nurses. School nurses are an investment in the future of our children, linking health and education. We are not a cost center,” Mattey adds.
Parents and guardians must address the importance of school nursing with administrators, Mattey says.
“Parents should ask, ‘Who is meeting the health needs of my child while in school?’ The answer should be a professional registered school nurse,” argues Mattey. “Parents assume that a nurse will be taking care of their children, but that is not always the case and parents need to ask the question. If not a school nurse then they need to find out, ‘Why not?’ Parents in Charlotte, North Carolina, advocated to make sure their children had access to a full-time school nurse, successfully increasing the number of school nurses in the schools.”
What is diversity? According to the Oxford English Dictionary, it is “the condition of being diverse, different, or varied; difference, unlikeness.” This simplistic definition of diversity does not assign any judgment or negative connotation to any of the words used to define it. However, the word “diversity” evokes multidimensional judgements, reactions, ideas, emotions, and actions, some of which could have adverse social and health consequences for generations of individuals in the United States.
Nursing, as the largest health care workforce in the United States with over 3 million nurses, is well positioned to champion diversity efforts. In 2010, the Institute of Medicine (IOM) published a landmark report, The Future of Nursing: Leading Change, Advancing Health. In this report, the IOM indicated that the nursing profession was not diverse to care for diverse populations across the lifespan. The IOM recommended that a diversity agenda be promoted, especially with increasing the diversity of nursing students. In partnership with AARP, the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJF) launched a campaign to implement the IOM recommendations from its 2010 report. Subsequently, commissioned by the RWJF, the IOM evaluated the state of affairs regarding these recommendations. In 2015, another report, Assessing Progress on the Institute of Medicine Report The Future of Nursing, was published. In this report, the IOM specified that nursing has improved on the recommendation to diverse the nursing workforce. Nonetheless, there remain gaps that must be addressed to meet the diversity goal for the nursing profession. Consequently, the new recommendation for nursing is that diversity must continue to be a priority that is paralleled with a series of actions to promote it. Before nursing can accomplish this noble goal, there should be a well-vetted strategic plan on diversity and inclusion in all nursing programs, schools, and colleges in the United States. Students, faculty, and staff must be an integral part of the dialogue to promote diversity within the nursing profession.
At the University of Florida College of Nursing (CON), we held our inaugural “Diversity and Inclusive Excellence” workshop in December 2015. This two-day workshop was designed for staff and faculty. As a member of the Diversity taskforce, I collaborated with the other taskforce members to invite G. Rumay Alexander, EdD, RN, FAAN, to lead the CON on this discussion. Alexander is director of the Office of Inclusive Excellence in the School of Nursing at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, a nationally known expert with vast knowledge and expertise on diversity and inclusive excellence, and president-elect of the National League for Nursing.
During the early morning hours of December 3, 2015, my individual lesson on the topic began with Alexander as I had breakfast with her. My antenna on the topic sharpened following our conversation. After introducing her to my fellow Diversity Taskforce members, I hurried to pack my car and return to the CON to proceed with the plans of the day. I noticed the dean, Anna McDaniel, PhD, RN, FAAN, from a distance. I hurried up to keep her pace. “Good morning, Dean,” I greeted in my usual manner. McDaniel responded with a broad smile and a twinkle in her eyes that I perfectly understood. I surmised that McDaniel had finally accepted the fact that I love referring to her as the “Dean.” We conversed as we headed to the CON and into the elevator. I noticed the necklace McDaniel wore. The costume necklace had different shapes, colors, sizes, lengths, and mosaic designs. They were
- audaciously woven, yet unintimidating;
- different, yet complementary;
- individually, unassuming — yet, together, a paragon of beauty, inviting;
- all held by a perfectly thin strand, yet unbreakable.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” I uttered. “It belonged to my mother, who died twelve years ago,” McDaniel shared. “Each bead came from a different country. I have a brochure that provides a description of each bead, including the country of origin and its material composition.” Then, McDaniel voiced the word that gladdened my heart. “I wore this necklace today because it’s appropriate to celebrate diversity, the topic of the CON workshop.”
McDaniel had appointed the Diversity Taskforce and provided us with her full support. But, the fact that she actually thought of and adorned herself with a necklace that I now coined as a “diversity necklace” to celebrate the CON inaugural diversity workshop was admirable to me.
Someone not sensitive to the current diversity concerns around the United States, and the racial unrest related to such matters, may not appreciate my exhilaration upon hearing the history of the necklace. At issue is that, in several communities around the United States, numerous individuals are thoughtless about the devastating effects of antidiversity rhetorics and actions on the lives of its victims. Many may not realize that any action, whether good or evil, begins in the mind. Conversely, any work to combat uncelebrated diversity and exclusivity must begin in the mind. When people think about and proactively perform small acts, such as expressing recognition of diversity through a piece of jewelry or other special actions to celebrate diversity, it goes a long way. It could change the thought process from exclusion to inclusion. When people are attentive to their behaviors and understand the detrimental effects their actions could have on other human beings, things might change for the better. I believe that, as a nation, we must check the poisonous thoughts that percolate in our minds and subsequently manifest in forms of antidiversity rhetorics and behaviors, unacceptance, and racism. Confronting monstrous suggestions in the mind is the first step that many of us need to take to begin to challenge the subtle and insidious systemic diversity-aversion and exclusion in the United States.
As I thought about this issue of diversity and the role that nursing can play to eliminate it, I reminisced about how the imperfections of people categorized within the social construction of race stimulate antidiversity and anti-inclusive sentiments and movements. I wondered how nursing can care for these individuals, many of whom are marred with scars of history. My poem, “The Color of Justice,” captures my perceptions of the undeniable genesis of these historical blemishes that shockingly remain, overtly or covertly, as status quo in various parts of this country.
The Color of Justice
What color is justice?
Absorbing pain, insults, and lashes
Ancestors packed shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip,
chained like fire woods
Bones of the feeble lie un-mourned in ocean deep
across the Atlantic
Their sweat built the wealth in the new world, but
crumps have become their portions
This name sound like them, we have filled the position,
they need to go away
Low-hanging pants, cove-hopping birds,
We cannot deal with the anger, we are better off
with the accent, intra-color battle ignited
Round them up, throw away the key, population control
Babes on the breast, mama and grandmamma, sitting
on the front porch pondering about the next check
Hair tightly woven, fried, or twisted, nails freshly manicured, next bun in the oven
The fortunate may triumph at the end, treacherous roads treaded, stress claims the wounded body after all
That they survive is still a mystery that ought to win
them a trophy
Who are they?
What color is justice?
Reflecting heat, demanding respect, crushing heads
Rolled into the new world in Mayflower boasting of
prostitutes, thieves, and prodigal sons
Raised arms against raised tea taxes, won freedom
but deny it to another
Melanin deficient hue suggest superiority
Blood by blood, noose on hand, destroyed a generation,
Deeds done in the name of God, He must be weeping
Damages proudly scattered in museums, we pay to
relive the tragedy
Privileges left and right on the backs of the poor
Man in bow tie, lady in heels, rear the children, your lavatory in the rear
Own your history, mend your ways, teach your babes right
Who are they?
What color is justice?
Broad face, warm hue, and welcoming gesture
Land is supreme and cares for the offspring
Infected with strange diseases, killed with gun powder, survivors kept in special places devoid of opportunities
Culture deconstructed, the sacred used as mascots
Surviving by balancing mind, body, and spirit, harmony
in the land is their mantra
Not many left but their spirit is strong
The land beckons for their touch, to purge its roots of deadened souls
What does the Unites States’ constitution say about them?
Who are they?
What color is justice?
Messiah has come, awaiting messiah, there is no messiah
We profess peace, spiritual path is the way
Whose belief is superior?
When six feet under, belief quenches, but tainted
souls still suffer
Where are their senses?
Who are they?
What color is justice?
Light? Energy? God?
Penetrates Black, White, Red hue, religious, non-religious
Building block of things created
Revitalizes without questioning, unites all things created
Shines for Black, White, and Red hue, religious and
Knows no foolishness but shines for fools
Knows no discrimination but supports the life of discriminators
Invites reconciliation until judgement day
Come unto me Black, White, and Red hue, religious,
My light is your strength, unity, and peace
One may wonder how a nurse who is an advocate for a diverse, inclusive, and just world could pen “The Color of Justice.” This poem reflects my dual perceptions as a black woman and a nurse, of how the historical racial unrest that has plagued the United States for centuries has been subtly perpetuated even today. But, they ought not have continued, had the United States paid real attention and reconciled both the apparent and undercurrent narratives of this poem after the abolition of Jim Crow laws. As a black woman, I think that the first relevant question ought to be: How do individuals from diverse backgrounds interpret their historical or lived experiences in the United States? I encourage each one of us to answer this question individually or as a family, church, academic institution, or financial organization. I assert that there must be a recognition and acceptance of the different dimensions of diversity of thoughts, ideas, and experiences. This recognition must be matched with “courageous dialogue” on diversity and inclusion. In addition, there have to be concrete and measurable action plans for allocating resources to implement iterative strategies to address identified diversity concerns. This exercise could be so powerful that diversity and inclusion become strengths and not detriments to our collective humanity.
As a nurse, I think the second pertinent question must be: What role can nursing play to mitigate the adverse generational effects of antidiversity and anti-inclusivity experiences on marginalized and excluded individuals? I contend that, in order for nursing to be professionally and culturally relevant in the future and to continue to have the public trust as a caring discipline, we must identify ways to champion the diversity and inclusive excellence agenda. There should be constant and mandated training on diversity for university staff and faculty, with measurable outcomes. Nursing as a profession should develop a curriculum with a diversity and inclusion plan threaded throughout it. One approach to operationalize this suggestion is to equip nursing students with skills necessary to be culturally competent, diversity-savvy, and inclusive-perceptive in order to encourage these values in their work settings. Patients and clients at the receiving end of compassionate, culturally competent care infused with the spirit of diversity and inclusiveness should remember the feelings associated with that care, and hopefully pay it forward. Slowly, the culture of superiority and nontolerance directed toward individuals from diverse backgrounds could dissipate and a new world facilitated by nursing and inhabited by truly compassionate and empathetic humans would emerge.
Nursing students are the future of the nursing profession. Therefore, nursing must constantly remind students that antidiversity and anti-inclusion rhetorics and behaviors, historically and contemporary, breed racism in the United States. They should also learn to celebrate how much improvement we have made as a profession. But, recognize that diversity work is lifelong. The juxtaposition of the history of racism in the United States with the improvements made toward eliminating it is useful for at least two reasons: The contrast provides the space for constructive discourses and opportunities to develop positive avenues for endorsing diversity, and it allows for future and ongoing actions to completely obliterate racism heralded by antidiversity and anti-inclusive beliefs in the United States. Consequently, bead by bead—though diverse in shapes, colors, sizes, lengths, mosaic designs, and historical origins—we can hang unbreakably strong on the perfect strand of humanity, which unites us as “one Nation under God.”
She didn’t know her words would haunt me for years to come. It was a night like any other night. I stood at the bedside of a relatively stable patient, and I was dutifully giving him his meds. The floor was quiet, patients and nurses preparing for the night shift a few hours away.
Like a fire klaxon, a voice cut through the relative peace of the hospital floor. “My husband is dying! My husband is dying!”
Instinctively, I dropped the medicines and darted out of the room. In the middle of the hall, a middle-aged woman ran toward me, screaming about her husband in the room across the hall. “He’s dying,” she yelled into my face.
Mouth dry, heart pounding, I pushed past her and entered the patient’s room. Of course, he was unconscious, blue, and not breathing. I started CPR, but the craziness was not over.
I wasn’t exactly a new nurse. I had been through a few codes, and they all went rather smoothly. I never experienced the stomach-churning nausea of having a family member witness their loved one dying.
The patient wasn’t mine, but I knew about him. He had recently had coronary artery bypass grafting surgery and was due to be transferred to the ICU any minute because his heart rate and rhythm were abnormal. His doctor was on the floor, writing the paperwork for the transfer.
Others had heard the wife call out in anguish, and everyone came running, including the doctor. He burst into the room, shouting, “I need an intubation kit! Get me an intubation kit!”
I could hear the rumble of the crash cart coming down the hall, but it hadn’t quite reached the room yet. The doctor continued to yell at me, to point, to spit. His hands shook, but I had been here before. I yelled back, “Hold on a second! It’s coming!”
I realized then that the doctor was more afraid than I was. The cart arrived, the patient continued to code, and the doctor got his intubation equipment. Although we managed to get a sustainable rhythm on the patient, he soon died in the ICU.
Of all the codes I experienced over my years as a nurse, this one sticks out as the most horrible. When codes start, nurses become the ultimate professionals. No one runs. No one yells. Everyone works as a team.
As a relatively new nurse, I never experienced the terror that “normal” people experience when someone starts to die. For me, I knew how to handle it. A patient going south deserves my close care, but the emotion is usually not high during care involving advanced cardiovascular life support. Afterward, I would cry and shake, but not when I needed my faculties about me to do everything I could to save a life.
This code was different. In fact, I can live it over and over in my mind, and I still feel as scared now as I did then. The wife and the doctor were breaking the rules. They didn’t know how to deal with death, and I don’t really blame them. I just know their actions scarred me deeply.
Trauma is a real problem in nursing, and situations like these can cause a nurse to relive moments that didn’t go well. This is especially true of new nurses. New nurses make mistakes, and they haven’t developed the ability to be the calm professional yet. This means that the trauma of extraordinary events can stay with them forever.
I never dreamed that I would face a family member who was screaming that her husband was dying. I can only imagine the torment she was going through, the heartbreak of knowing that her loved one was slipping away before her eyes. She reached out for the only help she could.
And that help was me.
Her terror has stayed with me all of these years. In that moment, I became her. I empathized with her, as any good nurse will do. I felt her sorrow, and despite our best efforts, we couldn’t save her husband. I find myself imagining how she felt when he actually passed away.
I will admit that this situation scared me, and I have dwelt on it more than I should. Nurses, especially new nurses, have to develop a sense of detachment from the patient and family. But what about the human side of the equation? Too much distance leads to too little caring.
I am happy to say that I took part in codes after this one, and I did the best job I could. In fact, I was praised for my work in situations where a life was on the line. But I never forgot the distraught woman in the hallway, or the surreal feeling of dread that her words—”He’s dying!”—caused in me.
It remains a trauma that has impacted my life forever. Nurses need to realize that they experience traumas, too, and that it is okay to talk about them. It is okay to be afraid. It is okay to reflect on the situation and examine the emotions the trauma awakens. Without this reflection, the emotions become buried. Ignored emotions manifest as substance abuse, out-of-control feelings, and hatred of the job.
My trauma is just one example. Almost every nurse has a story of when she or he was scared and traumatized. Talk about it. Don’t pretend to be so strong that you don’t need to ask for help.
I wish I could have saved that man. I wish I could have wrapped that wife up in my arms and made it easier for her. I couldn’t, but it will stay with me forever as the trauma in my career that haunts me, because I couldn’t hide behind the façade of the calm professional.
I am the calm professional, but I am human, too.
In this essay, I present my firsthand account of my experience as an African American nursing student in a predominantly nonminority nursing program as well as my perceptions and interactions with fellow students. As an autoethnographer, I sought to answer the following question: What is the African American student nurse’s experience of education in a predominantly nonminority school of nursing and university, and how does that experience affect her as an individual?
Pre-Nursing School: Being “White”
In high school, I was called “white” by the majority of the few African American students in a high school of nearly 500 students in the Northeast. Initially, when they said this to me I was shocked. I had been on the receiving end of racially charged comments by white peers, and now I had to deal with this from my own race and ethnicity, too? I wondered why I could not catch a break. I remained confused but focused on my schoolwork. Since being a freshman, I was in honors classes, those with the maximum rigor in the entire school. It was viewed as if only the elite were in these classes, but I surely did not feel like the elite. My white peers in those classes assumed I came from the ghetto and asked me to teach them Ebonics and about rap music (which I did not listen to). I was isolated in those classes because of such stereotypical comments and the competition to be number one of the entire graduating class, but mainly because I was the only African American student in such classes. The comments from my African American peers only intensified as I was enrolled in both cosmetology in vocational school and Advanced Placement courses (which could alleviate me from taking college courses, once enrolled).
One of my African American acquaintances, who I thought seemed amicable, approached me purposefully one day in the hall. She looked like she was on a mission to find me as I put my things in my locker. I met her with a kind hello—I did not have many friends in school. I blamed myself for that, being so quiet. She stated loudly with a greeting, “Do you think you are better than us?” I said, totally confused, “Us? Better than who?” She quipped, “You know exactly who I mean, the few blacks in this school.” My face must have looked blank. I just stared at her with curiosity due to the fact that, besides the “white” comments, there was never an extended conversation or association besides my distant friendship with several other minorities. She continued to badger me, “You know you think you are better than us since you are in those special classes. Who do you think you are?” I simply responded, “Nothing.” At the time, my self-esteem was low; I had become tired of my lack of association. She was not buying it. “You know what? It must be true that you are white because you even talk like them,” she said. “Don’t ever think you are better than us. We are just as smart, although we may not be in the AP classes.” Taken aback, I explained, “I never said you weren’t. You should talk to your advisor about enrolling in one of the classes.” Without acknowledging my reply, she stormed away, saying, “Wow, you are white.” As she walked away, I blinked at her and said to the dust trailing behind her, “It is funny because my skin is black like yours.” I went on to finish my day; however, the episode never stopped playing in my head, even after I became a nursing student.
Katie Love, PhD, APRN, BC, AHN-C, wrote about the lived experience of African American nursing students in a predominantly white university in a 2010 article published in the Journal of Transcultural Nursing. One of the themes of her phenomenological study was that of fitting in and “talking white.” She reports about a study participant who had grown up in a predominantly white secondary school and had become accustomed to experiences with white students. African American nursing students who did not have such an experience described some African American students as being “Oreos…Black on the outside and white on the inside.” Such “Oreos” are described as African American students who are black but “act White, socialize, and talk like White people.” One of the participants of the study shared the following observation: “To me it’s kinda a funny thing that it’s such a problem in the Black community that you could not talk in a certain way…but if you start talking slang, then to them you’re trying.”
I could identify with Love’s study as my isolation from peers—from within my own race and from without—began in high school. In high school, I was excluded by white students because of the color of my skin and, at the same time, excluded by my African American peers because of the way I carried myself and spoke. In nursing school, my isolation continued. It would eventually lead to my depression.
Nursing School: Feeling Isolated and Excluded
Fast forward to nursing school. The faculty and advisors began our edification with a talk about the rigor of the courses. I remember a gentleman announcing, “Look around the room. See everyone here? Not all of you will be here in four years. The truth is, nearly half of you may not make it to graduation.” I remember sitting in the warm amphitheater and feeling intimidated by his words. When I looked around, as instructed, I noticed the class was made up of only three African Americans. The largest minority group were of Hispanic background.
The first few semesters were full of straight science courses, which translated into nonstop studying. I spent my days in the library enjoying my books and learning. The days went so fast, when all I did was read and study the day away. In the blink of an eye, the end of the first year arrived. All of the Hispanic students were eliminated either by not meeting academic requirements or by choosing to leave the program. I was afraid that I would be next. My classmates were mostly white students. At times, I felt I did not belong. None of my professors looked like me. The nonminority students studied together and did not invite me, much less speak to me.
I remember our professor addressing the class during our sophomore year. She advised everyone in our small section to avoid driving alone to a distant clinical site and to carpool instead. I looked around the room attempting to make eye contact but did not receive any response. My nonminority peers turned around in their seats and, within minutes, had arranged themselves into two car groups, which left me out. I told myself, “You really thought it would be different, huh?” I laughed to myself and stopped looking for a group. That experience solidified the divide for me.
In 2004, Nancey France, PhD, RN, and her colleagues at Murray State University published a pilot study in Visions: The Journal of Rogerian Nursing Science that examined the lived experiences of black nursing students and found many reported feeling isolated and discounted. One of the themes of the data was “You’re just shoved to the corner.” One African American student nurse clarified, “You may get one or two that wants to include you…You may go up to them, you’ll risk to say ‘are you going to study?’ If you think that you know them and everything’s o.k., you’ll say, ‘are you all going to have a study group this weekend?’ And they’ll say ‘yeh’. But, when the time comes…you can’t get in.” Another student reported, “I’m the only black, in all my classes I’ve been the only black. It’s hard because…you got to prove yourself. If you don’t do as well as the other students they just single you out. That’s why I have to strive to do the best I can.”
Black students also reported feeling they were only admitted to schools of nursing to meet a quota. They described the increased pressure exerted on them when minority attrition rates were high in their class. As a result, they experienced emotions such as self-doubt, fear, lack of confidence, and diminished self-esteem before attending class. Many students reported these feelings pushed them “even harder to prove they could be successful.” There seemed to be a consensus that there was an unspoken expectation of African American students to fail, which propelled these students to greater levels of determination to prove that “they were as smart as anyone else.”
Moving Up: The Benefits of Exclusion
During my third semester in nursing school, I became tired of sitting in the back of the classroom. What had once seemed comfortable became an annoyance to me. The students who supposedly knew all the answers sat in the front, always the first ones to raise their hands. However, their answers were the same as mine—always. They weren’t any better than I was. I decided to beat the caste system within my own classroom. I felt my sitting in the back row was perhaps contributing to my isolation and depression that had begun to develop. Humans are not meant to be excluded—we need contact. As a result, I started moving forward, slowly but purposefully, to avoid and overcome my feelings of exclusion.
I remember deciding I would not allow myself to sit in the back anymore. I felt like Rosa Parks as I migrated up to the middle rows of the classroom. I began to raise my hand more. I found that studying alone was beneficial to me, as I knew the full answers to questions that other students merely answered in a general way. As a result, I started raising my hand and answered insightfully each time.
I wasn’t sure of myself until my anatomy and physiology professor approached me and asked if I wanted to become a physician. He tried to convince me to enter the premedical program. I was flattered and taken aback, but I knew it was not what I wanted. I had fallen in love with the few nursing courses we were allowed to take. I could not betray my passion for nursing and really “being” with the people. However, he had not approached anyone else in the class with this offer.
It was after that discussion that I moved up and became the snob who raised her hand to answer every question, at every opportunity. It was not until then that I had my first contact with nonminority students, other than a glance. They soon began asking how well I did on my exams. When interrogated, I replied without emotion, saying I did “okay” when I knew I got an A. They soon lost interest in me again. They did not know that their exclusion of me in their study groups was paying off greatly for me. I had become an independent and successful learner.
As the years progressed, I think they began to suspect I was doing better than just “okay” as I began to earn scholarships and recognition from my professors in class. It was unwanted attention for me because I wanted to keep my head low. What began as a business venture to simply gain a skill that would sustain me as an adult turned into a love for the profession of nursing. I had not expected that—it just happened. As my love grew, I began to excel. As I excelled, I felt the isolation increase. I had become used to it; it didn’t really bother me on the surface. It seemed other students were in school to make lifelong friends and to have a good time. I was in nursing school solely to earn my degree, focusing intently and singularly on my studies; so, most nursing students tended to avoid most nursing students avoided me.
I soon began to wonder if I had isolated myself, but then I noticed in my junior year that professors began to assign more group assignments. In those voluntary group assignments, I observed minority students chose to work together in the same groups, while nonminority students chose to work together in their own groups. I wondered if the professors noticed the same thing I did. It went on like this until the end of the nursing program.
A 2015 integrative review published in Nursing Education Perspectives reaffirmed that there are several studies where African American nursing students reported feeling “voiceless, not part of the important conversations, left outside of the cliques, alienated and insignificant.” Many minority students coped with these conditions by forming their own network among other minorities and “sticking together.” Additionally, Love noted in her study that African American students familiar with “being left out” from high school experience were better able to accept exclusion and move beyond the experience.
All that studying and exclusion seemed to work better for me. It worked out because I graduated. During graduation, I knew a select few would earn special acknowledgement for their achievements. I was sure it would not be me. I was so focused on getting out of there. I had the chance to extern on a unit in a teaching hospital where nonminority staff embraced me as if I was family. I just wanted out of nursing school. At the end of four years, it felt like prison only being able to talk to and connect with six minorities who made it to the end of the program. Now, I was free to explore the world as an adult with a real job—not just a student building up debt.
These were my thoughts as I was called up to shake hands with all of my professors. I was so focused on receiving my degree that the moment when they called my name seemed only a second. When they began to announce the special recognition awards for academic and clinical excellence, I kept looking back at my family and realized I was one of the few students wearing a purple tassel, which meant we were part of a special group: the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau. We had high GPAs.
Then I heard one of my professors say my name. I looked around and those around me whispered, “That’s you! Get up! They called you!” I had earned the award for clinical excellence. I was speechless and nearly stumbled up to the stage. I thought my professors were not interested in me, but they had nominated me for this award (and I assume they voted that I receive it). I was flabbergasted but filled with pride because I—the quiet African American student nurse—had earned this great honor. I thought I had not deserved it, because there were so many things I did not yet know, and I knew I was not the perfect student. I critiqued myself for those few senseless Bs I had earned. It was not until I returned to my seat the second time that I realized maybe I did deserve this award. Just maybe, I had worked hard enough in that I enjoyed putting the entire patient picture together—staying in their rooms, discussing how they felt about their illnesses while taking it all in, and figuring out how I could use my knowledge to prevent one less complication. I was more than a student nurse in those moments with my patients; I assumed the role of nurse and took such opportunities with the utmost seriousness. I remember a great exhalation as everyone threw their caps to the roof of the auditorium. I was deserving.
Soon after graduation, I passed my licensing exam on the first try and began working on a medical-surgical floor at a teaching hospital. My work was challenging and kept my attention, but I soon began to crave schooling. I decided to enroll in an online program. The main reason for doing so was so no one could see my face and perhaps I could fit in for once. And I did. I felt since no one could see the color of my skin or the youth of my face there would be no divisions. It proved true. I enjoyed my online schooling and soon pursued a doctorate program online after completing my master’s in nursing education.
In a 1998 study published in the Journal of Nursing Education, author Mary Lee Kirkland, EdD, RN, concluded that the most successful coping strategies of female African American nursing students are active coping and social support. She explains that “although they may have faced times of discouragement or despair, they did not waver in their pursuit of their goals. They relied on their inner strength to take the action needed to conquer their stressors and move on successfully.” I had a support system of my spirituality, my family at home, and my friends of the same faith that kept me strong. They probably were unaware how they were the one thread that held me together through emotional turmoil and numbness.
Enlightenment Upon a Return to the University: Six Years Postgraduation
Aside from the anatomy and physiology professor, who was from the biology school, I was never sure how the true nursing faculty viewed me. It was not until I returned six years later as a clinical nurse specialist to become a mentor for nursing students like I had been—of the minority. I was also pursuing a scholarship for my doctoral education with a focus on nursing education.
When I met with one of the professors, I was sure she had forgotten me by the e-mail she had sent back when I asked for a letter of reference and to meet to discuss a mentorship program for minority nursing students. However, when I walked in the door in my professional attire, she told me, “Wow, I remember you. I wasn’t completely sure in your e-mail, but now I know who you are exactly…You were always so bright. I knew it then, and look at you now and all you have accomplished. You have your master’s and are a clinical nurse specialist….[Another professor] and I are rooting for you to get this scholarship.” Our conversation ran long before a student showed up for her advisement. The professor told me warmly, “Keep in touch. We are so proud of what you will become and have become already!” She had written my letter of recommendation. However, the recognition she provided in those moments proved to me I did not know myself those years as well as I did right then.
I had not been invisible, after all, and the award I received upon graduation was not for show, but because my professors saw such great potential in me. I had become visible to myself and the world. My confidence soared as I left the campus. I had driven in, but I seemed to fly home, alongside the clouds.
Increasingly, nursing students are being introduced to health policy and are encouraged to play an active role in some aspects of the policymaking process. Yes, I know, so much to do and so little time! However, opportunities to enhance one’s level of awareness and engagement regarding the policymaking process have never been greater. Planting the health policy seed has become important to professional nursing organizations, nurse educators, and even nursing students who applaud the push for integrating health policy and advocacy content in today’s nursing curricula.
Today’s nursing students must acquaint themselves with a number of policy issues that may impact their practice, the delivery of health care, and the profession of nursing. Nursing students are encouraged to develop increasing levels of knowledge, skills, and competencies related to health policy and advocacy commensurate with their advancing levels of nursing education. The American Association of Colleges of Nursing (AACN) has identified key health policy competencies to include in nursing curricula starting at the baccalaureate through the doctoral level. Nurse educators are encouraged to incorporate these competencies when designing and implementing health policy courses for nursing students across all levels of nursing.
Starting at the baccalaureate level, nursing students are introduced to aspects of health care policy, finance, and regulatory environments. Students at the master’s level are engaged in analyzing health policies and their impact on health care financing, practice, and health outcomes. Nurses at this level are expected to help interpret research findings as well as advocate for policies that will improve the health of the public and advance the profession of nursing. Building on these skills and competencies, students at the doctoral level are expected to acquire the necessary skills to demonstrate a higher level of involvement of leadership in developing policies, influencing policymakers, and assuming influential leadership responsibilities at the local, state, national, and/or international level.
Early on during nursing education, one should begin thinking about how legislation informs nursing practice and how public policies influence the health outcomes of the patients and communities that one serves. For example, funding for nursing education and research is an ongoing issue for the profession. This need requires ongoing and persuasive advocacy and communication with state and federal legislative officials. Each year, numerous organizations lobby at our nation’s capital to make the case for funding to support nursing education and research. In fact, increased funding levels for nursing education and research are, in part, attributed to the diligent advocacy by the nursing community and other stakeholders.
Opportunities for Policy Development
Recognizing the need to introduce nursing students to the policymaking process, the AACN hosts an annual Student Policy Summit. This three-day summit is open to nursing students enrolled at AACN member institutions and is designed to familiarize students with the policymaking process and nurses’ role in professional advocacy. Students journey to Washington, DC, to take a glimpse at the policymaking process at the federal level. Speak with your school and/or faculty to ensure that there is representation and support from your academic institution during the call for applications. For information about future offerings, I encourage you to visit the AACN’s website.
Recognizing the need to foster the policy development of its members, the National Black Nurses Association offers an annual Health Policy Institute at their annual meeting. Speakers with expertise and experience in the health policy arena have presented on topics, including health equity, prescription drug abuse, reproductive rights, and mental health, to name a few. Another example is the Oncology Nursing Society, which provides an online tutorial on the policymaking process and ways to become an effective patient advocate. Many nursing organizations hold virtual and in-person annual lobby days empowering its members to advocate on behalf of patients, communities, and the profession.
Be sure to check with your student, professional, and specialty organizations to see what opportunities they have to help supplement your classroom education. Volunteerism is yet another way to develop familiarity with the policymaking process and gain experience in advocacy. For me, I volunteered for a long time with the American Cancer Society and the Susan G. Komen for the Cure. These experiences enabled me to establish the linkage among practice, research, and patience advocacy. This in turn fueled my passion for learning more about the policymaking process and the various legislative initiatives informing the health and well-being of communities of color.
Although numerous bills are introduced each year, only a small percentage will make it through the entire process, culminating in action at the executive level and signed by the President for passage. Similarly, numerous bills may be introduced or reauthorized that will have some implications for patients (e.g., reimbursement for care, increased access to care, support for clinical trials) or the profession of nursing (e.g., funding for nursing education and research). One bill that has implications for patients and the profession is the Nurse and Health Care Worker Protection Act of 2015 [H.R. 4266/S. 2408]. This piece of legislation was introduced by Representative John Conyers, Jr. (D-MI) and Senator Al Franken (D-MN) on December 16, 2015, during the 114th Congressional Session. This is the only national legislation that improves the quality of patient care and protects nurses and health care workers by addressing the safe handling of patients. To track the progression of this legislation, visit www.congress.gov.
During your nursing education or even in the workplace, stimulate some discussion and support around legislation and health policy issues and topics that have implications for nursing. Nursing in the 21st century demands that we take our rightful place at the table and advocate for patients and the profession. Developing the wherewithal to do so at the student level is an important first step.