Time for Change
As a professional nurse, it’s hard to watch the world turn its back on itself. Right now, as you read this, millions of children and teens are fighting silent battles—abandoned, homeless, and burdened by a world that should protect them.
You can see it in their eyes.
The light disappears.
There’s no prosthetic or prescription for hopelessness.
Doctors may grow desensitized to blood and trauma.
But as a nurse, every patient becomes personal. Every loss stays with you. Every cry echoes. Every delay haunts. You carry those stories like invisible scars, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t save everyone. But we still try.
Sorry, to Those We Couldn’t Reach in Time
To the patients I lost from being a moment too late…
To the children on the street with no place to go…
To the mothers who gave up hope long before the world gave up on them…
To Michael Brown Jr., whose life was taken too soon in Ferguson, Missouri—shot by a police officer sworn to protect. His death shook the conscience of a nation already fraying at the edges. The words of poet Bjornstjerne Bjornson, speaking of Robert G. Ingersoll, still echo:
“I envy the land that brings forth such glorious fruit… who has shown the way to intellectual freedom to many millions more.”
A freedom that should belong to all—not just to the privileged.
No Justice. No Peace. Just Grief.
Michael Brown Jr.
Tamir Rice.
Eric Garner.
Trayvon Martin.
These names should be remembered not for how they died, but for how the world reacted to their deaths. The pain of their parents, like Lesley McSpadden, who said:
“I don’t think [Darren Wilson] wanted to kill my son, but he wanted to kill someone.”
This isn’t just a black struggle—it’s a human one.
But burning our communities won’t bring them back.
The first step toward change is not destruction—it’s unity.
“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.”
— Langston Hughes
A War Within Ourselves
The world saw Ferguson as a war zone.
Flashing lights. Tear gas. Police in riot gear.
But what they didn’t see were the peaceful marches, the silent prayers, the mothers carrying photos of their sons, and the neighbors trying to clean up a shattered town.
Violence makes headlines.
But peace makes history.
I’m Just One Nurse. I Can’t Do This Alone.
I’m sorry for the darkness that has swallowed so much of the world.
I’m sorry for the lives lost, the dreams crushed, and the potential buried under systemic injustice.
But now it’s time to move forward, not with fists, but with compassion.
We’ll never win if we fight hate with hate. The time for change has come—and it must come now.
Together, We Can Heal
We need each other—nurses, parents, teachers, neighbors, leaders.
Every voice matters. Every child matters.
America cannot heal until we all commit to the healing.
“Compassion is the path to peace.”
Let it begin with you.
Great article. It got me in a deep thought.
Maxine, glad article moved you to think deeply. Hopefully we can attempt to make a change in this world or come together united.
Love this article understand what you are saying, I am dealing with a 15 year old living with me, he is doing good in school, who miss his mom, hope and pray he and his mom will be reunited.
Lamuriel, Good that his grades is not affect by mother not being present in is life. Keep being there for him and have hope he will be able to reunite with mother once again.
Such a heartfelt post! I can’t imagine what it would be like to be a nurse. It takes a very special kind of person to volunteer to do such a heart wrenching job! I’m thankful for people like you who are compassionate and caring, especially as a nurse! I agree, there is no nobility in violence!
Heather, thank you for your sincere comment, glad I was able to reach someone.