To Recruit More Men, Rebrand Nursing as ‘Masculine’? Or Just Stop Oversimplifying the Profession

As a registered nurse for more than 40 years—with experience in pediatrics, public health, and philanthropy—I read a recent article by NPR’s Shankar Vedantam (“Why More Men Don’t Get Into The Field Of Nursing”) with interest. Vedantam essentially argued that more men don’t enter nursing because it’s seen as a “feminine” profession and proposed that we start emphasizing the more “masculine” attributes of the profession.

From youthful contrarianism to a deeper vision of the profession.

When I became a nurse in 1975, my choice was shaped first by my youthful desire to be contrarian: to bend gender norms by being a man in a “woman’s” profession.

When I began practicing nursing, however, I grew in my understanding that a commitment to nursing, particularly in my specialty field of public health, provided me with the means to act every day in concrete ways to further healing and build community. And so I applaud calls like Vedantam’s drawing attention to the need for more men in nursing. The need for diversity (of all kinds) in nursing was highlighted in the 2010 Institute of Medicine’s Future of Nursing report.

The deep-rooted public view of nursing as ‘women’s work.’

2018-11-14T10:57:09-05:00November 14th, 2018|men in nursing, Nursing|6 Comments

Reluctant Heroes: When Men in Nursing Cry

Reluctant Hero / graphite, charcoal, and pastel on paper / by Julianna Paradisi 2017

I first learned the effect a man’s tears have on my emotions from the parents of my young patients when I was a pediatric intensive care nurse.

I am not unaffected by the tears of a woman, but in the PICU the tears of the mothers differed in nature from the tears of the fathers.

A mother with a hospitalized child will cry, and when overwhelmed, she will break down. But in the PICU, more often than not, she took a tissue from the box I handed her, wiped her eyes, breathed deeply, and then put on a brave face to protect her child from knowing her fear and concern over his welfare.

When the father cried, it was an admission of helplessness. His problem-solving toolbox was empty. The tears represented feelings of personal failure, powerlessness to protect his child and family from disease or trauma. His criteria for being a father, or a man, was eroded.

These displays of total soul-brokenness undid me every time. […]

2017-01-18T10:32:08-05:00January 17th, 2017|career, men in nursing, Nursing|6 Comments
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