Now that I\u2019m right on the edge of my last year of nursing school, I\u2019ve realized more and more what my role truly means to others. While sometimes I still feel like a fresh 18 year old, I know that I am not that girl anymore. I am a young woman learning how to trust my clinical judgment, speak with confidence and how to step into a role with more responsibility and purpose than some could ever imagine. For me, I feel like the responsibility doubles as I look out for those who share my identity and unspoken story, because no one knows what it means to be Black other than someone who lives it with you.\u00a0<\/p>\n
As nursing students, we spend countless hours in lectures learning how to care for our patients, how to assess them and how to advocate for the best care they deserve. But sometimes, there are things you learn that won\u2019t always be taught to you in a lecture hall. The lesson of how trust can be made when you share the same brown eyes and brown skin. The lesson of knowing you have supporters everywhere just because you share the same dark coils that grace our heads.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Being a Black woman in nursing \u2014 and more broadly in healthcare \u2014 means a lot more to people than some would think. I often don\u2019t realize this myself \u2014 I\u2019m sometimes clouded by my own naivety. Yet there are times when I\u2019m brought back to this in brief interactions that often stick with me, regardless of how minuscule they might seem in the moment.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I was inspired to write this article after an interaction I had with a Pitt Eats worker in the WPU. It was a Friday afternoon, and I had just left clinical, meaning I was in my uniform of royal blue scrubs, white sneakers and a badge plastered with my name on it. I was picking up my food from PA Taco when one worker, an older black gentleman, asked me, \u201cAre you in nursing school?\u201d He \u200casked how much longer I would be in school, gave me a smile and wished me good luck during the rest of the semester and the rest of my academic career. The conversation was short and sweet, yet I found myself replaying it over and over again.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The moment just felt genuine and pure. A person who barely knows me simply wanted the best for me \u2014 becoming a supporter as I complete my academic journey. In a way, I feel like he saw me not only as a nursing student, but as someone who is trying to step into something meaningful.<\/p>\n
The interaction reminded me that I\u2019m never truly alone on this journey. Whether I realize it or not, there are always people watching, hoping and believing in me simply because of what I represent. I represent every Black woman who stood before me and every Black woman who will come after me. I represent progress and possibility in spaces that haven\u2019t always been welcoming to us. I represent a sense of unspoken solidarity.\u00a0<\/p>\n
In the three years that I\u2019ve had the honor of representing Pitt nursing, I\u2019ve had plenty of these small interactions that I carry with me every day. A patient\u2019s family member telling me how proud she is to see Black women walking throughout the hospitals, another Pitt Eats worker giving me the nickname of \u201cnurse\u201d and always asking me how school was, and the wishes of luck that come from patients who only knew me for a couple of hours \u2014 another small exchange that I could easily overlook, but instead, it has become woven into my heart.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It reminds me that representation is not always about big achievements. It can be as simple as walking around in my scrubs in a public place. It\u2019s a simple act, like leaning into my role, that lets others know that this is possible for all of us. It\u2019s about realizing how much others have sacrificed in order for me to be where I am now and how I have the privilege to call myself a future nurse.\u00a0<\/p>\n
This also makes me realize how much I owe to the older Black generation. The people who \u200cpaved the way for me and so many others, directly and indirectly pouring into my future. It reminds me of my dad and the quiet ways he has always supported me in becoming who I am \u2014 the discipline he instilled in me, the expectations he set and how he believed in my potential when I didn\u2019t are things I carry with me every single day.\u00a0<\/p>\n
In many ways, that interaction in the WPU felt familiar, like a continuation of that same kind of support. It was a reminder that even outside my immediate family, there are people who want to see me succeed simply because they see themselves, their children or their hopes reflected in me. That kind of encouragement is something I don\u2019t take lightly, and it pushes me to keep going \u2014 not just for myself, but for those who came before me and those who are watching now.<\/p>\n
As I move closer to becoming a new graduate nurse, I carry all these moments with me. I carry the awareness that my presence matters in ways I may not always fully understand. I carry the responsibility, but also the pride. And most importantly, I carry the reminder that even the smallest interactions can hold the greatest meaning.<\/p>\n
I am not just preparing to become a nurse. I am preparing to step into a role that connects me to something much bigger than myself \u2014 a community, a history and a future that I am now a part of shaping.<\/p>\n