Since 1982, my life as a registered nurse has been a testament to resilience amidst adversity. As an African American in the nursing profession during that era, I faced the harsh realities of racism and discrimination, all while battling my own childhood trauma.
It was a dark night etched in my memory, the night I found my baby brother lying in the road, his fragile body broken by a hit-and-run driver. With my mother, also a nurse, away at work and my father, haunted by undiagnosed PTSD from his service in the Korean War, drowning his sorrows in alcohol, I was thrust into a nightmare.
Our home, illuminated only by a solitary streetlight, stood witness to the tragedy unfolding on the main road through our neighborhood. As I approached my father’s car, parked ominously with a group of his friends, I heard the sickening sound of a passing car striking something in the darkness. Oblivious, my father asked what it was, and I, fearing the worst, ventured to investigate.
What I found shattered my world: my baby brother, bleeding and broken, his innocence torn apart by the recklessness of a speeding driver. In the weeks that followed, as my brother fought for his life and eventually returned home in a cast, I grappled with the haunting realization of what could have been.
Despite the trauma that haunted our family, my mother’s unwavering dedication to nursing inspired me. I witnessed her selflessly tending to others, even in the face of personal turmoil and domestic strife. Her resilience amidst adversity planted the seed of nursing in my heart.
Reluctantly, I embarked on my own journey into nursing, following my mother’s footsteps. Starting as a Certified Nursing Assistant, I navigated the challenges of a profession that demanded more than just medical expertise—it demanded empathy, compassion, and unwavering strength.
Growing up in the South, just a few generations removed from slavery, my mother’s determination to rise above her circumstances fueled her pursuit of education and a better life. Yet, despite her resilience, we faced countless hardships with little support or guidance. The absence of resources to address the unique challenges faced by nurses, especially those from marginalized communities, was glaring.
My mother Peggy McRae Jones, (passed away on July 15, 2023 at 88 years old) was a beacon of strength in our family, struggled to make ends meet, while the system failed to provide the assistance we desperately needed. But now, as I reflect on my journey and the establishment of the National Nurses Crisis Center, I see a glimmer of hope. This center, born out of the recognition of nurses’ unmet needs, offers a lifeline to those grappling with trauma, discrimination, and financial hardship.
Through counseling services, educational programs, and community support, the center aims to empower nurses, ensuring they receive the care and assistance they deserve. It’s a beacon of hope for nurses like my mother and I, who faced adversity with resilience and determination.
In the face of darkness, we found light. And through our collective strength and perseverance, we pave the way for a brighter future, not just for nurses, but for all those who dare to dream of a better tomorrow.
