Reflections in The Cathedral of the Blue Dome

I am a firm believer in the power of reflection and introspection. Finding quiet time to think, contemplate and wonder restores the soul. For me, being outdoors and experiencing the elements brings me considerable joy.

Our family recently moved to the country, several miles outside of Boise, Idaho. Our new home is nestled within thousands of acres of public land, surrounded by several mountain ranges, inhabited by herds of deer, antelope and elk. Above all this marvelous splendor is a big, bold, wide-open sky, what my husband and I affectionately call The Cathedral of the Blue Dome.

During the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I hiked many miles along the hilly terrain that surrounds our property and took time to reflect on some of the pivotal events of my life and how they impacted my choice to become a nurse. Along my hiking journey, a story came to mind. It begins many years ago. I was 16 years old and working as a nurse’s aide in a nursing home. An elderly man whom I will call James lived in the home. I didn’t know it at the time, but James would change the course of my life.

As a younger man, he was severely injured in a construction accident, leaving him a multiple amputee and wheelchair-bound. Later, James suffered a debilitating stroke, but he fought the good fight and refused to yield to the physical limitations of his condition. I was inspired by his spirit, tenacity and determination. The highlight of my working day was spending time with him, listening to his stories as he recounted the history of his life.

Each day was a journey into the existence of a man who loved life and feared little. He taught me to believe in goodness and kindness, and he challenged me to think big, to dream in living color. He encouraged me to make a difference in the world and to leave an indelible footprint on this earth, a footprint I would be proud to leave, one of decency, compassion and integrity. James inspired me to reach higher than I ever believed I could, to soar at 60,000 feet. Most importantly, he encouraged me to become a nurse. He loved nurses, he loved the profession and I know he loved me. As an adolescent, I gave little thought to my future, but I listened to James and his deliberations about the journey of life with its many twists and turns. I took note of his insightful lessons. They mattered deeply to me.

One day, when I arrived at work, I saw the ambulance pulling away. I knew from experience that one of the residents had died, and I wondered who it could be. The night nurse met me at the door and embraced me. Hugging me tightly, she whispered softly that James had died quietly during the night. I was devastated by the news. It was a defining moment in my life, and it made a significant impact on my future career. I decided then that I would become a nurse, that I would strive to make a difference and that I would do everything I could to leave that much discussed and highly treasured indelible footprint.

Many people like James come into our lives and influence us in ways that are deeply felt and shape the person we are; indeed, the person we are becoming. Many of these people are our role models, mentors and heroes. They challenge us every day to make an important difference in the world, to set the bar high and to “pay it forward” by becoming mentors to others, inspiring them to lead mindful and purposeful lives, lives that matter.

Each day, I challenge myself to advocate for a more just and humane world, solidly embedded in the principles of social justice, veracity and equality. I believe that each of us is called upon to serve the common good and to cultivate hope, to be reflective and contemplative when making decisions, to find quiet moments to restore and rejuvenate the spirit, to promote and celebrate the lives and accomplishments of others, and to shine the spotlight brightly on those who are a voice for the marginalized and less fortunate. In the end, it is truly what really matters.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Models, mentors, giants and heroes

Recently, my life has been very stressful with selling our home and buying a new one, launching our middle child and reorganizing our lives, as my husband and I make plans for a future with only one child at home. And, before you know it, she will be making her own way in an unpredictable world.

Change is a constant in all of our lives, and the accompanying stress can be a bit overwhelming at times. So, when I become stressed, I find it helpful to count my blessings and reflect on the people and events in my life that bring me joy. Of course, my family, friends—both furry and non-furry—and my colleagues are extraordinary blessings. Yet, there are other special people who have touched and influenced me in remarkable ways. To them, I am extremely grateful. Expressing gratitude brings a fresh dimension to how I view my life and fills me with a sense of appreciation for the mentors, models, giants and heroes in my life.

Two of my earliest role models were my mother and my maternal grandmother. Both women believed in serving others and contributing to the greater good. As young children, my brother and I, and two of my neighborhood friends, found creative ways to generate funds for important causes. We performed in street parades—I was the drummer, my brother played saxophone, and my friends played the trumpet and trombone. We marched through the streets of our neighborhood regaling the “audience” with the pulsating pleasure of John Philip Sousa marches. We also put on theater productions, carnivals, and plays, asking only for a small donation for our favorite charities. We pooled our earnings, tucked them in an envelope and sent them off to various organizations, including the Save the Trees fund in Chicago and the John F. Kennedy Library. My mother, grandmother and my friends’ mother were three strong and amazing role models who made a definite impact on my life, shaping my worldview by stressing the importance of serving others.

I am also a product of the Catholic school system. I was taught by Dominican nuns under the guidance of a strict monsignor who believed not only in the 3Rs, but also in deportment and character development. At the time, I was not a big fan of being graded on such behaviors as “is courteous in speech and manner,” “respects the rights of others” and “works and plays well with others.” But, believe me, our parents took these grades very seriously, often more seriously than our academic performance. Is it any wonder that civility and respect for others is a central feature in my body of research, as well as in my life?

Later, as I entered the university and encountered various professors, there were several that influenced my life in positive ways. Most prominent among them was a nursing professor I nicknamed Professor Sweet, who inspired me to become the nurse and person I am today. Because of faculty members like Professor Sweet, I state in a Reflections on Nursing Leadership article, “I am living and fulfilling a multitude of astonishing dreams.” And it’s true. This October, among my many blessings, I will be inducted as a fellow in the American Academy of Nursing. I am both humbled and astonished by this honor. Yes, I have worked hard to achieve this milestone in my career, but this dream is largely realized because of the incredible mentors and nursing “giants” who have encouraged and supported me along my nursing journey. These mentors have unselfishly modeled the way and illuminated the path to excellence.

Unfortunately, there are also naysayers in our lives. Individuals like Professor Sour, as I refer to her in the article mentioned above, who diminish our contributions, thwart our progress and demean our ideas. I try to re-categorize these naysayers as “motivators” and reframe their discouraging words to inspire action. They don’t believe in us, but we must believe in ourselves and in our ability to realize our personal and professional vision for the future. This can best be accomplished by aligning ourselves with positive mentors and role models who encourage and inspire us to reach our goals. We need to show gratitude, and then we need to “pay it forward” by modeling the way for others—by mentoring colleagues, students, children and adolescents.

Life is not a solo act, and none of us makes it alone. So much of what is good in my life is a testimony to the power of positive mentorship—others who have encouraged me to hope, to never settle, to set goals and to pursue my dreams. As the saying goes, “We stand on the shoulders of giants.” By doing so, we see more and accomplish more because they raise us up. My mentors have all been great teachers—giants, if you will—who each, in their own personal and profound ways, have been a blessing in my life. As George Colman noted, “Praise the bridge that carried you over.” To all the giants and bridges in my life, thank you just isn’t enough.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Celebrating the pomp and circumstance of Nurses Week

This is Nurses Week and a fitting time for celebration and merriment. This week also marks a major achievement in our household. Our daughter was pinned and graduated with her BSN—an amazing event and a very proud moment for her and for us, her family.

There was a moment during our daughter’s pinning ceremony when the glory of the pomp and circumstance threatened to burst the lump in my throat; it was when the dean of her school asked all nurses in the audience to stand and be recognized. As a nurse of many years, of course, I stood to join the others, and then the dean said, referring to the new graduates, “Please welcome our newest colleagues into the illustrious profession of nursing.”

All of a sudden, I was struck by a flood of emotions. No longer were we bound only as mother and daughter. We were now colleagues in a profession I have cherished for more than three decades. It was a very special and unforgettable experience to step onto the dais to place the nursing pin on our beautiful and talented daughter. What a thrill!

This evening, students from our own school of nursing at Boise State University will be pinned, and tomorrow they will march at commencement. It is such a festive and joyous time for gathering and celebrating. Tonight, we bear witness to a new generation of nurses, and tomorrow the pageantry and grandeur of graduation under sunny skies against the backdrop of mountains, still scantily covered with snow, will provide a grand stage to showcase our brand new graduates.

As I reflect on our new graduates at Boise State, at our daughter’s school, and on graduates from around the country, I am reminded of an ancient Chinese saying that goes like this, “The creation of a thousand forests begins with a single seed.” This saying suggests to me that every person—indeed, every nurse—isgifted with the unlimited capacity to help others grow and reach their greatest potential, and thus has the unique ability and infinite capacity to make a difference.

Helping others gives our lives purpose, meaning, and importance, and defines the essence of nursing. My friend and colleague, Marty Downey, PhD, RN, AHN-BC, calls it the “butterfly effect of nursing,” meaning that one nurse begins by touching a life, and that life touches another and another and another, causing a ripple effect into the community and throughout the world.

This touching of lives involves exercising our voices and our power, both individually and collectively, as nurses, and using our unique gifts to make a significance difference in someone’s life. This is a grand plan, and one that can not be done without taking care of oneself and nurturing the spirit.

It is important to savor quiet moments and spend time with the people we love and those who love us back; to be gentle with ourselves as we provide care to others because, while we belong to a caring profession, it is also a demanding one. Our new graduates have all worked very, very hard, but, in some ways, their work has just begun. They are clearly up to the challenge, and we honor them as they continue on their paths to “creating a thousand forests.”

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Lessons on civility from the dojo

I have been an avid cardio-kickboxer for more than a decade, and the lessons I have learned have richly impacted and informed my life. I can remember the very first day I entered the dojo and met Sensei Pon Inthatirath, a 7th-degree black belt and world champion karate practitioner. I had no way, then, of knowing that the dojo would become a second home and that Sensei would become much more than my teacher.

As I entered the dojo, co-mingling scents of sweat and leather and the sight of heavy bags and focus mitts assaulted my senses. It was hot and humid inside the dojo, a condition I would learn to both love and hate in the years to come. Sensei believed in tradition and training in the old style of Japanese dojos, and that meant there would be no creature comforts like air conditioning or fans. Training meant hard work, discipline and rigor. It was not for the faint of heart.

I felt breathless as we prepared for my first class. I looked around at the other students and wondered what they were thinking. Sensei instructed me on how to put on my hand wraps. As I weaved the wraps over my palms, around my thumbs and up my wrists, I was struck by how empowered I felt already. Pulling my boxing gloves on over the wraps brought me to a new level of confidence, and I hadn’t even punched a bag.

From the very first day, classes included not only lessons about the art and practice of kickboxing, but life lessons, too: how to scan a room, be alert for possible encounters and anticipate danger. Sensei’s focus on discipline, commitment to hard work and training our minds and bodies to react and defend required countless hours of conditioning and practice. The sessions were intense, physical and grueling. Some days, the clock seemed to stand still and time dragged as we ran, punched, kicked and performed countless plyometric and boxing drills, only to do it all over again.

After literally thousands of hours in the dojo, I can clearly see the connection between kickboxing, self-defense training and conditioning with living a life of civility. Some ask how I reconcile striking bags and sparring with opponents with my passionate desire to foster civility and seek peaceful solutions. While not readily evident to others, the relationship is crystal clear to me. Just like kickboxing, living a life of civility requires confidence, courage, expression and voice. It requires a commitment to health promotion, risk-taking and a devotion to hours and hours of training, so that responding to challenges and coping with adversity becomes almost second nature. Things don’t always go well in the dojo. I’ve been knocked down and bruised; and had surgery on my shoulder and knee because I stubbornly refused to back down from a much stronger, bigger and quicker opponent before realizing the result of my arrogance. I have learned from my mistakes, how to get back up and how to keep fighting the good fight.

I think, most of all, I’ve learned that family, friends, and people matter—that life is short, that we are all in it together and that it’s the people we meet along life’s journey who enrich and inform our lives.I’ve learned and experienced firsthand the power of kinship, companionship and fellowship. I’ve also experienced fierceness juxtaposed with surprising tenderness and grace. Civility requires presence, purpose, connection and an intention to seek common ground. Sensei and others, including my husband who joins me in the joys and agonies of kickboxing, have taught me these lessons, and life in the dojo has reinforced them.

Just like the physical muscle memory that I have developed and honed, I have also strengthened my mental muscle memory for restraint, respect and civility. Life in the dojo has transcended the physical. It has increased my capacity for awareness, mental fitness and moral courage. Perhaps, someday, I will hang up my boxing gloves but, for now, the scent of sweat and leather, and the crisp smack of my glove on my partner’s focus mitt beckons.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Guns on campus: Thoughts of a concerned professor

Before I started teaching at Boise State University, I worked for more than a dozen years as a psychiatric nurse, a member of a hotshot crew of adolescent mental health specialists engaged in preventing violence and treating myriad mental-health conditions and substance abuse disorders. Many of our patients were gang members, adjudicated youth with a history of violence. We were fortunate to have these teens in treatment long enough to make a significant difference.

Our team used a primary prevention approach to help patients learn to settle disputes and disagreements, using words and other nonviolent means. We also emphasized protective factors and resilience measures to equip our patients with effective ways to deal with stress and recover from traumatic life events, including trauma resulting from violent acts. Ascribing to the belief that guns promote, rather than prevent, acts of violence, we spent countless hours reinforcing a teen’s ability and capacity to use non-violent interventions to deal with issues. We worked closely with law enforcement to oppose gun crime and reward youth who put down their weapons and “beat the odds” of recidivism.

My clinical work has fully informed my program of research on preventing campus violence and continues to fuel my passion for creating civility, not only on college campuses but everywhere. I realize there are opposing views, but I am steadfastly against allowing guns on campus. Our state legislature recently voted to introduce a law that would allow students, faculty and campus visitors with a concealed-weapons permit to carry firearms on college campuses. Fortunately, the bill died in committee, but some lawmakers vow to bring the bill forward in next year’s legislative session.

Allowing guns on campus deeply concerns me. I believe guns hasten conflict and instill fear in faculty and students. It’s worrisome to wonder who might pull a gun over a poor grade, a real or perceived act of incivility or being denied tenure. One of my colleagues mused that allowing guns on campus will forever alter the relationship between students and faculty—and among faculty.

According to the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, firearms are used in the majority of suicides and homicides involving college-aged people. If firearms are made more accessible to college students, there is a potential for more firearm-related deaths. If a gun is used in a suicide attempt, it results in a fatality more than 90 percent of the time.

For the most part, college campuses are safe havens and the last citadels of decorum and civility—a much-sought-after condition in these trying times. Boise State is a nonviolent campus with exceedingly low crime rates. It is also a campus that welcomes and hosts literally hundreds of children, adolescents and other visitors every day, all of whom may be placed in harm’s way by allowing guns on campus.

I believe that allowing guns on college campuses will potentiate and accelerate conflict, not prevent it. Thus, I am vehemently opposed to changing the status quo, as all members of the campus community will be placed at higher levels of physical and psychological risk. Gun laws, if passed, will change how faculty typically prevent and respond to disruptive student behavior. As my colleague noted, guns on campus will forever alter the dynamic between students and faculty, and among faculty.

I worry that, if a threatening situation does occur, having several guns firing will make it nearly impossible for trained officers to distinguish the good guys from the bad guys. I appreciate that some individuals believe we need weapons to protect themselves, but I also believe that these situations are extremely uncommon and that, in the rare circumstance that a dangerous situation emerges, the presence of guns will increase the chaos, and I worry that even more harm will follow. As faculty and citizens of the academy, we have a responsibility to create and ensure safe teaching and learning environments for all members of the campus community—including our students, our colleagues, our visitors and ourselves.

I welcome your comments.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.