I was told my appearance was “unprofessional.”
And I remember thinking…
I show up in scrubs and a lab coat every day, so what exactly is unprofessional?
Specifically, my hair.
Not my work.
Not my leadership.
Not how I showed up for the unit.
I was a manager, supporting other nurses and advocating for them so they could show up for their patients.
And still… it came down to my hair.
This happened during a travel nurse assignment in Silicon Valley in 2017. And in that moment, I was confused, shocked, heartbroken, and honestly, angry.
Because how do you process being told that something natural to you doesn’t belong in a profession you’ve committed your life to?
For six months, I said I was done with nursing.
I questioned everything.
And then something shifted.
I started praying.
I started asking different questions.
Not “Why did this happen to me?”
But “What am I supposed to do with this?”
And then one morning, I woke up from a dream with a question that wouldn’t leave me alone:
What if we had a Black Nurses Week?
I didn’t act on it right away.
I held onto that idea for four years. Sitting with it. Growing with it. Trying to understand what it really meant.
Until I realized… it wasn’t just an idea. It was an assignment.
Because what I experienced wasn’t isolated.
This is what Black nurses are navigating in real time, in spaces where we’re expected to perform at the highest level while being treated as less than, or as if we haven’t significantly contributed to this profession for generations.
That moment changed everything for me.
I decided I wasn’t going to sit with that experience. I was going to build something from it.
That’s how Black Nurses Week® was created.
Not just to celebrate Black nurses, but to create space for us to be seen, supported, and recognized for the impact we have always had on this profession.
Because the truth is, Black nurses are not just part of healthcare.
We are essential to it.
We advocate in rooms where our patients would otherwise go unheard.
We innovate solutions in systems that were never built with us in mind.
We carry communities, serving as the bridge between healthcare and the people it’s meant to serve.
But too often, we’re navigating environments where thriving feels conditional, where being excellent still doesn’t shield us from being diminished or overlooked.
Black Nurses Week exists to change that.
To build connection.
To strengthen our voice.
To create a space where we don’t have to shrink to belong.
This is bigger than a moment.
This is a movement.
