Back at Whitney Young High School
Monday, December 5th, 2022
I spent the first week of employment within my patient’s home. By December 2022, we went into Whitney Young High School. The last time I was here I was 17 years old and I was inducted into the National Honors Society. We had to participate in the Special Olympics. The Special Olympics was held at Whitney Young High School. I personally loved every minute of it. I knew even then I wanted to become a nurse, but the staff having observed my interaction with the patients/students felt I would be a good fit and said, “You know you’re really good at this. You should consider getting a job here.”
I was too young to know how to ask more questions. I also knew I wanted to be a writer even since I was a child. I had healthcare workers in my family who regaled me with stories about their job when they came home. They also read books and gifted them to me when they were done reading them. One of those books was Coma by Robin Cook. I was mesmerized with the idea that you could be a healthcare worker and writer at the same time. My parents took me into bookstores, patted the countertop and said, “Get whatever you want,” and purchased the books I chose. One of my family members even made her place in Chicago crime history as a nurse. Not because she committed a crime, but she worked as a nurse in areas of Chicago where famous crimes that were made into Discovery Investigation profiles many years later. My interest in healthcare and storytelling was initiated and there was no turning back.
Learning begins at home.
Returning to Whitney Young High School as a one-to-one nurse to my patient, I realized that you didn’t need to be a student to deeply appreciate the school and even help the students. Whitney Young High School actually looked much the same as it did when I was in high school and there were even more pictures and memorabilia of their famous alumni hanging from the walls. A feeling of familiarity overtook me.
Somehow or another, it seemed like I had come full circle into something, but I didn’t know what.