From floodwaters to foundations: My journey into global health

I wrote an article for Nursing Centered in 2023 when bodies were still being pulled from the mud. Cyclone Freddy hovered over Southern Africa for more than a month, unleashing flooding and landslides that turned my home-away-from-home, Blantyre, Malawi, into a disaster zone. Hundreds were buried; thousands displaced. I stepped into an informal emergency relief role, raising $15,000 through social media, distributing supplies, and partnering with local leaders to support affected families. “You can do everything and nothing all at once,” I wrote then. That sentiment still echoes today.

The personal element I didn’t share in my previous article is that one of the families impacted was one closest to us: Margaret, my family’s housekeeper, and her daughter Lucia, who now cares for our 14-month-old son. Their home, damaged in the storm, slowly deteriorated over the next two rainy seasons and is now beyond repair. Margaret never asked for help. A hardworking, widowed matriarch, she’s supported her family for 20 years by cleaning homes, raising chickens, and growing maize on a small plot of land. Her resilience is quiet and enduring. But the cracks in the walls, coupled with the pressure of survival, left no more time to wait.

With just weeks left in Malawi before moving to Southeast Asia, my husband and I made a BIG decision: we’d rebuild their home from the ground up. It’s hard to capture what that looks like while shipping belongings across continents and chasing a toddler around. But we knew we couldn’t leave without knowing they had a roof over their heads.

We launched a fundraiser—and thanks to the power of community—we surpassed our $5,000 goal in under 24 hours. Construction is underway. The original house is gone. Margaret, Lucia, and three children are now living in temporary housing while local builders lay the foundation for their home and their future. What once felt impossible became a life-changing reality in a matter of days.

Watching this home come to life, I’ve realized that this rebuilding is a metaphor for the work I’m doing now: helping globally minded nurses reconstruct the vision they have for their careers.

When I arrived in Malawi in 2020, I came for a brief nine month contract, imagining I’d eventually leave to fulfill my dream of working with an organization like Médecins Sans Frontières. But nine months turned into 3.5 years. I trained over 100 pediatric nurses, co-developed a master’s curriculum, and launched Malawi’s first pediatric critical care preceptorship program, which became the focus of my DNP project in 2024. Over time, my role evolved.

I became passionate about mentoring nurses who felt called to global health but didn’t know where to begin. Nurses who feel deep in their bones that they were meant for something bigger. Who scroll headlines about humanitarian needs and want to get involved, but feel paralyzed by the logistics, fear, or the overwhelming question: “Where do I start?” Especially now, with USAID funding cuts threatening thousands of jobs and compounding a collective sense of defeat. Like Margaret’s house, it can feel like an impossible rebuild.

But here’s what I’ve learned: you don’t need to have all the answers. Indeed, you won’t fall into this work by accident, but you don’t need luck. You need to be two things: consistent and persistent.

Start where you are. Use your PTO to travel off the beaten path. Learn a second language (French, Arabic, or Spanish will do). Volunteer with local refugee communities. Take a course on tropical medicine. Rework your resume or LinkedIn to reflect the mission you’re on and the vision you have for the world. Talk to someone doing the work you admire—and never underestimate the strength of your existing network. Say YES to opportunities and see what doors open.

Nurses often ask how I got to where I am now. It wasn’t a straight line. It was years of curiosity, trial and error, solo travel to 50+ countries, and getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. It was learning to enjoy my own company and choosing growth—even when uncertainty made me want to hide under the covers. After being diagnosed and treated for young adult breast cancer, I stopped settling and started showing up for the life and nursing career I actually wanted. (And yes, I spent hours applying to every global health job board I could find and got nowhere.)

When I finally broke in, it still took time to find my footing. I arrived in Malawi for what was supposed to be my “dream job.” And in many ways, it was. But the reality of working in a low-resource setting, combined with the weight of systemic inequities, and the discomfort of confronting my privilege was sobering. I saw things I couldn’t unsee. I wasn’t always welcomed with open arms. And I quickly learned that Malawi’s healthcare challenges aren’t rooted in a lack of knowledge, but in underfunding, political complexities, donor-driven priorities, and the long shadow of colonialism.

I didn’t come to “save” anyone. I didn’t come to snap a few grid-worthy photos or drop off donations and disappear. I came to listen more than I spoke, learn, and offer my skills with humility. To help elevate the brilliance already present among Malawian nurses—experts in serving their communities with tenacity, resilience, and passion.

Through all of this, I came to understand the power of mentorship to shorten the learning curve and break down barriers to entry. And between wrapping up non-governmental organization (NGO) work and preparing for our move, something new has taken shape to support the next generation of global health nurses.

In November 2024, I launched Global Nurse Pathways to guide nurses into global health careers, bridging the gap between patchy short-term mission trips and long-term, sustainable work. To create lives of purpose and momentum in a field that desperately needs us but rarely shows us how to begin.

And I remind them that change doesn’t have to be polished to be powerful. Sometimes, global health looks like teaching neonatal resuscitation under a jacaranda tree. Or helping a community health nurse set up her first email address. Sipping chai in between rounds, translating protocols into three languages, or troubleshooting an oxygen concentrator with improvised parts. It’s showing up in a space where you’re not the loudest voice and choosing to stay.

Now, after five years, we’re preparing to leave Malawi. We carry sweet memories and pride, but also a visceral understanding of how inflation and global defunding have strained the future here. And yet, there is still so much HOPE, and still so much work to be done.

To the nurses reading this who feel the pull toward something bigger, toward global service, cross-cultural connection, or a version of this work you can’t yet name—I see you. I AM you. You don’t need the perfect job lined up or to have it all figured out. And you certainly don’t have to do it alone. You need the curiosity, humility, and courage to begin.

And if you’re ready to imagine what’s possible, I will walk with you. We can make the seemingly impossible into your new reality.