Embracing Support Over Resilience in School Nursing
I dream of never being called resilient again. I’m exhausted by strength. I want ease. I want support. I want softness. I don’t want to be patted on the back for how well I take a hit. Or for how many. – Zandashe L’Orelia Brown
This powerful quote captures the weariness of those who have spent too long shouldering burdens without reprieve, and it resonates deeply with the role of a school nurse.
School nursing is often characterized by resilience. We are praised for our ability to navigate emergencies, manage complex health needs, and act as anchors of calm in a storm of educational demands, student health crises, and systemic inequities. Yet, this constant expectation of resilience is unsustainable. Beneath the facade of strength lies an undeniable truth: we, too, need ease, support, and softness.
The Myth of the Resilient School Nurse
For too long, resilience has been held up as a badge of honor in school nursing. We are celebrated for our capacity to “power through” overwhelming workloads, inadequate staffing, and the emotional toll of supporting children facing trauma, chronic illness, and mental health challenges. While resilience is admirable, it has often become a euphemism for enduring unsustainable conditions without complaint.
This myth perpetuates the notion that school nurses are unshakable, self-sufficient, and immune to caregiving’s emotional and physical toll. It erases the humanity of the individuals behind the title. As it is currently framed, resilience overlooks the costs of constantly absorbing the impact of a broken system while being expected to maintain equilibrium.
The Exhaustion Behind the Strength
The pandemic exposed the cracks in the foundation of public health and education systems, including school nurses’ critical role in maintaining both. It also amplified the pressures we face: managing ever-growing caseloads, navigating conflicting policies, and serving as frontline responders to crises like gun violence, mental health epidemics, and health disparities.
Each “hit” we take—whether it’s an overwhelming caseload, a lack of resources, or policy changes that undermine our ability to advocate for children—leaves its mark. While we may outwardly appear to bounce back, the cumulative effect of these challenges erodes our well-being. The exhaustion behind the strength is real and palpable.
A Vision for Ease and Support
What if we reimagined resilience not as the ability to endure but as the ability to thrive in an environment that fosters support and care? For school nurses, this would mean systemic changes that prioritize our well-being as much as the health of the students we serve. It would mean having adequate resources, manageable workloads, and policies that honor our expertise and contributions.
Ease does not mean complacency. It means having the tools and support to meet challenges without sacrificing our health or humanity. Support does not mean weakness. It means creating networks of collaboration and care so that no nurse feels they have to stand alone. Softness does not mean fragility. It means cultivating spaces where vulnerability is met with compassion rather than judgment.
Moving Beyond “Taking a Hit”
The idea that strength lies in how well we endure adversity must be replaced with the understanding that true strength lies in creating systems that do not require constant endurance. For school nurses, this means advocating not only for our students but also for ourselves. It means demanding conditions where we can do our jobs effectively without depleting our reserves.
Imagine a school nurse who is not lauded for “taking a hit” but celebrated for being part of a community that values care—for students, colleagues, and one another. Imagine a world where strength is defined not by how well we absorb the impact but by how well we collaborate to prevent unnecessary harm.
The quote, “I dream of never being called resilient again,” challenges us to rethink our relationship with strength and endurance. As school nurses, we must reject the notion that our value lies in how much we can bear. Instead, we should aspire to a future where we are supported, valued, and cared for—where we can provide softness and ease for our students because we, too, have access to those same gifts.
It’s time to dream of a different reality—one where resilience is not the measure of our worth but a tool we use sparingly, alongside a system that prioritizes our well-being.
A Letter to a New Era in School Nursing, the 2025 Version:
I wrote the following letter to myself as a declaration of how I envision 2025. Will you join me? What will your 2025 look like? Remember, if it isn’t written, it did not happen, so let’s move into this new era with a new perspective.
I’m done. Done pretending that my exhaustion is a virtue. Done wearing my burnout like some twisted medal of honor. In 2025, I choose me—fully, unapologetically, radically. Every day, I walk into these school hallways carrying more than my medical bag. I carry the weight of every child’s unspoken story, every family’s hidden struggle. My heart has been a reservoir of other people’s pain, and this year, I’m reclaiming my emotional landscape.
What Healing Looks Like
Healing isn’t about being strong. It’s about being honest. When a colleague asks how I’m doing, I won’t default to “Fine.” I’ll tell the truth. Some days, I’m barely holding it together. Some days, the weight of caring feels suffocating. And that’s okay. I’m learning that my compassion isn’t a bottomless well. It needs replenishing. It needs boundaries. It needs me to say “no” without explaining, without guilt.
Resolutions for 2025
My resolutions are not grand, they are gentle. It’s about:
- Breathing before responding
- Recognizing my limits
- Protecting my peace
- Understanding that self-care isn’t selfish—it’s survival
A Promise to Myself
I will speak when something hurts.
I will ask for help without seeing it as weakness.
I will create space for my healing.
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Powerful words, Robin! We can only be fully effective for our students, staff and each other if we are whole ourselves!
Thank you for your reflection, Kate.
This is such an honest assessment of the reality of life as a nurse in any setting but particularly in schools.
Having to constantly educate educators and school boards about the necessity of you being there for example is exhausting.
This is a more sustainable and healthy approach to professional life.
Think we were on the same train…… the other day I wrote the following to a friend in Asheville NC. She and her family survived but things are very far from back together.
………..”I have read about the incredible resilience of spirit in your neck of the woods. That word gets me sometimes, like it’s boundless. It’s grit and bravery and resolve all bunched up together with probably a fair dose of wtf else are we gonna do?”……….
Your post this morning is brave and raw and gritty. Great job and love the message of radical self care and compassion.
Thank you Judy, your message means so much to me.