As I sit at my desk, my eyes look in the direction of my bookshelf and land on a picture of my father. His gentle smile reflects the compassion and competence he brought to his patients as a dentist. Emotion overtakes me. It has been almost 25 years since his tragic murder, and yet sometimes, it still feels like it was yesterday.
It was a hot, summer day, and my siblings and I were planning a surprise 25th wedding anniversary party for my parents. I was to pick my sister up from the airport the night before, and we were to have the party the next day—only the party never happened. The night before, he drove home from work like normal and got out of the car to find my two little brothers working in the yard. That’s when a strange man drove into the driveway of my childhood home, got out of his car, and as my dad walked toward him to ask him if he needed help, he shot him. There wasn’t a reason, other than he suffered from a mental illness. I thank God every day that he didn’t shoot my little brothers, too.
When they told me my dad was murdered, my knees buckled as I wailed and fell to the floor. I still remember the smell and texture of the carpet fibers against my face. I could barely take a breath, and my heart pulsed in agonizing pain with each beat. Who will give me away at my wedding? Dad will not see me graduate from nursing school! Do I even WANT to go to nursing school? My world has been turned upside down! These questions and thoughts swirled through my head like a tornado as I watched the world go by.
A few days later, the chief advisor and recruiter of the nursing school called me at home. I still remember how kind she was. She said, “We believe in you; we believe you can do this. If you want to go to school part-time, we will work with you.” I had already completed my two years of prerequisites and was due to start nursing school in just six short weeks. I did not have much time to make a decision. The love and acceptance I felt from her compassionate words made the difference. I chose to go for it, full-time.
Sitting in orientation, the pain washed over me once again like a tidal wave of all kinds of intense emotions. I started to cry, right there in front of my new classmates and in full view of everyone on stage. I managed to get up from my seat and started to walk. Somehow, I wandered my way to the acting dean’s office. She hugged me tight and said, with all the compassion in the world, “I believe in you. You are going to do great things in your career. You can do this.”
The two years went by fast. If I had not had nursing instructors who not only cared about me, but openly expressed that care and how much they believed in me, I never would have made it. I needed to hear people say that to me. I needed to hear that I was worth saving. I needed to hear and feel that they cared.
I am now a faculty member at a small university, and I’ve made it my mission to give back to my students what was so freely given to me. I care about my students’ success, but above all, I care about them as human beings. I make sure they know that I value and respect each of them. When students know I truly care about their success and them as people, they put forth more effort in everything they do—it brings out the best in them. Most important, they give that effort to be the best for themselves. The best part of my job is watching students bloom into not only competent nurses, but also strong, compassionate, and confident adults.
Sitting on the other side of the desk is an honor and a responsibility. I know that each student who walks through my door has their own story. I will continue to give to my students the same love, compassion, and acceptance that was given to me by my nursing faculty. Because they too may need to hear someone believes in them, that someone cares, that they are worth saving.
I look back to the photograph of my beloved father, my friend and guide, and I remember what guides me: caring for all students, and embodying competence and compassion in all I do from the other side of the desk. He smiles with pride.
Keri Jarvis, MS, RN, CNS, is an Associate Professor of Nursing at Emporia State University in Emporia, Kansas, USA. She is a member of Sigma’s Delta Chapter and Eta Kappa at-Large Chapter.