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Posts tagged ‘Geraldine Gorman’

Honoring the Legacy of Anne Zimmerman


The current featured ANS article is titled “The View From Anne’s
Shoulders: Preserving and Honoring the Legacy of Our Leaders
” authored by Geraldine Gorman, PhD, RN; Brigid Lusk, PhD, RN, FAAN;
Rebecca Clay, MSN, RN. You can download this interesting article at no cost while it is featured, and we welcome your comments here! Dr. Gorman provided this message giving more background about this work for ANS readers here:

Geri Gorman

Anne Larson Zimmerman, 1914-2003, was an extraordinary woman, world citizen, activist and nurse. Likely you do not know her name. She blazed through the world before we digitalized. She leaves only a ghostly thread of internet references. But in the Special Archives section of the University of Illinois at Chicago’s Health Sciences library, boxes of her donated papers attest to an extraordinary life. Human rights activist, labor leader, staunch proponent of nursing in general and of every individual nurse in particular, Anne’s star shines brightly in our firmament. But how would we know? How many will visit the special archives and take the time to delve into the boxes that hold Anne’s life?

Dare we, then, to tell a story?

We are not very good at that anymore, we nurses. We disparage our stories for fear they will make us seem less rigorous, less scientific. Instead of stories we exchange data. And nurses like Anne will not be found there. So if we want to celebrate our leaders and heroes, the ones who inspire and edify us, we are well advised to tell their stories before they slip from our collective memory.

I knew Anne only for the last seven years of her life but her impact was indelible. I was a new nurse and an old PhD student struggling with a dissertation which told the story of one the Midwest’s last surviving VNA’s. Anne’s glory days as international human rights ambassador, ANA president, INA Executive Director and union champion were behind her. Voted a Living Legend by the ANA, she described her retirement years as time spent “not so much in consultation as in consolation.” She believed in the importance of the story I struggled to tell and she helped me to organize the VNA nurses in one last glorious act of public resistance before the proud organization was gobbled up by a corporate health care system. When she died at age 89, nurses acclaimed and unheralded packed the Chicago church for a celebration of her magnificent life.

By that time I was new faculty at the College of Nursing at UIC. I spoke to the incoming nursing students about the importance of knowing our history—the good and the bad—but our textbooks really stopped telling the stories of individual nurses somewhere in the early part of the twentieth century. I told them about Anne but the weight of her insistent legacy grew heavier from year to year.

By 2015, a full twelve years after her death, Anne’s voice was a constant presence in my life and teaching. It was payback time. Dr. Brigid Lusk, nursing historian, had joined our faculty. I engaged Brigid in discussions about a performance which had been gestating within me for a decade. I envisioned nurses and nursing students rediscovering and recreating and Anne’s life, told in her own words and in those of her colleagues and friends and legions of admirers. I wanted us to pull those boxes from the stacks and dig in. There was a story which must be told. Brigid agreed.

Amy Spreitzer, Rachel Renee Gage and Jocelyn Mallard, who portrayed Anne at different times in her career, standing in front of a portrait of Anne’s hands.

And so we did. Through 2015 till the end of 2016 we composed a celebration of Anne’s struggles and accomplishments against a backdrop of events from the twentieth century with which her life intersected. Nursing students immersed themselves in the papers from those boxes. They interviewed Anne’s family and surviving colleagues. They created an historical timeline replete with images that defined her life and the evolving century. I wrote the story into a script and we added music. Twenty-three students and nurses brought it to life in three separate performances in 2016, one of which took place at the American Association for the History of Nursing’s annual conference.

Rachel Reichlin with Anne’s closet friend, the late Peg Stafford, RN, FAAN, who Rachel portrayed in the performance

At all the performances, Anne’s friends, admirers and family members co-mingled with those who were hearing her story for the first time.
I am grateful to ANS for its breadth of vision and understanding. It is no easy task to publish the account of a such a project—one that extols the intrinsic worth of storytelling—in our professional journals. We are wary of narratives for the reasons I outlined; they can threaten the staunchness of our rigor, make us look fuzzy and dreamy, like the ‘sentimental women’ image which has haunted the profession. But oh my Lord—do we need a revolution in our thinking!

Rachel Neuschatz in front of photo of Anne holding her daughter, Nancy

As we wait for science to save us from ourselves, to concoct that magic vaccine which will deliver us from the wages of our societal sins, we gravitate toward stories to comfort us, to ease the rawness of this historical moment. The statistics which flash across our screens numb us but the stories of health care workers who confront the pandemic ennoble us, give us hope. Studies about structural racism do not compel us to march in the streets but the story of a man’s murder detailed by a public countdown of minutes inspired a spontaneous movement. What kept so many of us glued to our screens during John Lewis’s long and eloquent memorial were the details of the life of the man from Troy. We are ravenous for such stories. And too seldom do our professional journals feed that hunger. Instead we are offered a steady stream of dry and formulaic articles in which the author’s voice and the precious human details are obscured beneath a mountain of statistical data.

So I appreciate the opportunity to share Anne’s story through the account of the performance we created: While I am Here: the life and legacy of Anne Larson Zimmerman. May it inspire you to celebrate the heroes you have known and to encourage nursing’s literature to bestow upon them their deserved place in the record, not as a statistic but as a vibrant story demanding a telling.

 

Nursing Practice and the Criminal Justice System


The current issue of ANS features two articles focused on Crime, Justice and Health.  The first of these two articles is titled “In a Spirit of Restoration: A Phenomenology of NursingPractice and the Criminal Justice System” by Geraldine Gorman, PhD; Rebecca M. Singer, ND; Erin Christmas, MS; Catherine Herbstritt, MS; Layne Miller, MS; Mary Murphy, MS; Cailan Shannon, MS; and Katrina Wyss, MS.  We invite ANS readers to download this article while it is featured (no cost), and share your reflections in the comments section below.  Dr. Gorman shared this summary of her work, and how she became dedicated to addressing this timely and important social justice issue, followed by a message from co-author and faculty colleague Rebecca Singer:

From Geraldine Gorman:

Tragedy and crisis divert our attention from other tragedy and crisis. I became interested in prison reform back in the 90’s when I attended a forum focused on the impact of Buddhism on healthcare.  A Religious Studies professor from DePaul University in Chicago talked about  the

Geraldine Gorman

sangha he initiated for the men imprisoned in the maximum security facility in Michigan City, IN. I was intrigued and Ron invited me to attend one of their Zen Buddhist sittings. For the next 15 years I went into the prison as a volunteer with the Buddhist group, sitting and chanting in Korean– not a word of which I understood– and getting to know the men, some of whom had spent time on death row. During those years  3 executions took place, one which took the life of one of the members of the sangha. A peaceful protest accompanied each state-sanctioned murder with black robed Buddhists  sitting silently in the parking lot, from dusk till dawn. The reverberations from each death ran deeply.

But then 9/11 shook the world and my nursing conscience turned from the injustices of the prison industrial complex to the horrors of war. I continued going into the prison but war dominated my thoughts and words and  outrage.  This is what happens when the dike starts springing too many leaks. We have only so many hands, so much time.  It goes without saying that our current political dike has become a sieve.

Ten years ago as part of our public health nursing class, I began bringing students to the Indiana prison. They were able to walk through the cell blocks, observe what passes for healthcare, listen to men describe their journey to and through incarceration. Chicago’s own Cook County Jail had remained an impenetrable fortress until very recently when our reform-minded Sheriff reached out to the College of Nursing and we began providing health education to the men and women detained in the cavernous jail. Our article describes the initiation of this project, along with the gratifications and challenges faculty and students encountered.

We appreciate the opportunity to share this with the ANS audience. While we must pay close attention to the ever present rumors of war and more war, we cannot allow our attention to be diverted from the injustices in our own communities.  And we need to expose our students to what is done in our names without paralyzing them. Such is the challenge for nursing practice, education and scholarship: to witness and confront insurmountable suffering and to move forward.

From Rebecca Singer:

My primary area of practice is within humanitarian response work which takes me to conflict or post-conflict zones where I try to provide services with few resources to displaced peoples who have lost nearly everything but their lives. In my work with students, they express interest in this work and often ask what they should do to prepare for a job in humanitarian response. After

Rebecca Singer

several weeks in the jail, I realized that Cook County Jail was the closest I had ever come to a refugee camp in Tanzania or a displaced persons’ settlement in South Sudan while never traveling beyond my own city’s limits. The students and I needed to travel no further than 26th and California, just over 2.5 miles from our own College of Nursing, to be surrounded by displaced peoples who have lost nearly everything but their lives and to provide health education with few resources but our wits, several pieces of paper and a poster board.

As the weeks passed and we struggled to understand the rules, to navigate the bleak halls, and to be heard over the din, I came to see how much like a foreign country the jail was. Each time we enter the jail, we repeatedly are asked to show our ID and permission letter, which serve as our passport to this foreign land. We pass through metal detectors and check-points which remind me of the international borders and military check-points I cross to get to my other work. They check our bags and confiscate anything that might pass as contraband; this week a permanent marker and next week a roll of tape. We must pack our bags with care.

The people who get caught up in our criminal justice system live in the same city that we do, yet their lived reality is essentially foreign to me and to most of the students.  They often speak a different language, using slang that I have never heard.  Coming from parts of the city with higher rates of unemployment and lower rates levels of education, they function in an economy far removed from the Loop that I can see from our campus. The exchange of illegal items, including illicit drugs and the firearms that drive up the rates of violence in their communities, render the currency they use different from ours. And while our city is diverse, the range of brown and black people I meet in the jail do not look like the faculty I call my colleagues at our university.

Yet, it is only like a foreign country, because, in fact, this jail is in our city. It houses fellow citizens of our Midwestern city–polite, friendly sports’ fans who love to complain about the weather. They are fellow citizens whose current conditions serve as a stark and vivid reminder that the social determinants of health are at play right here. Now when students ask me about my humanitarian response work and express interest in doing it, I can encourage them to come with us to do that very work without traveling more than 2.5 miles—no passport necessary—just pack with care.

Overcoming that which divides


The current “Editor’s Pick” article presents what the authors, Geraldine Gorman, PhD, RN and Corinne Westing, MS, RN,  call a “union narrative as a nursing parable.”  Their article is titled “Nursing, Unionization, and Caste: The Lessons of Local 6456” which provides an account of one local unionization effort, as well as an analysis of the far-reaching implications for reaching across that which divides us to create peace in our own communities.  Corinne shared this story of the work she and Gerry have pursued together over the past 5 years:

This article started in some ways in the winter of 2009. President Obama’s first term in the White House. This was during my first semester of nursing school, in Obama’s home town. I was lucky to have as one of my first classes a course intended to help new nursing students navigate the cultural and social transition into the nursing world. Gerry and I found we were completely simpatico. When I entered the Master of Science program in my pursuit of a career in nurse-midwifery, Gerry asked me to share my knowledge and experience or labor organizing as it impacted nursing, by giving a lecture for her class to supplement the presentation

Corinne Westing

Corinne Westing

traditionally given by the Illinois Nurses Association. I had been around the National Nurses United, which represents the nurses at Cook County, University of Chicago, and a few other hospitals in the Chicago area. I had read a few things about nursing strikes over the years and was generally very sympathetic toward organized labor and nurses’ grievances.

During that time, faculty at the University of Illinois began organizing of their own accord. In the wake of the economic crisis that was deeply impacting public education, faculty had every reason to begin to explore organizing. Amidst the hostility surrounding this union drive at the College of Nursing (CON), Gerry and I—and of course other union sympathizers—began a conversation about what was going on. We struggled with the divide between unionization in some of the clinical sites the CON sends its students to and the negative reception nursing colleagues gave the union organizers at the CON. How could unionizing be accepted for rank and file nurses but not for academic nurse workers, especially those in an increasingly stratified workplace like the public university?

Over the semesters, my research into the history of nurse unionism proved challenging. I could not find one single source that could knit together this story—especially not in nursing literature. There would be hints of the back story in labor texts and historical archives. The narrative was unfolding, and it was my pleasure to try

Gerry Gorman

Gerry Gorman

to construct a coherent version that could also shed light on current conditions in academic labor, including in the nursing world.

As frustrating this journey to unearth radical nursing past proved, it also was profoundly rewarding to discover how well nurses belie the myth of the “handmaiden” or subservient comforter. Though women may be socialized to nurture, when put in collective working conditions like the hospital unit, women care workers, like all workers, will eventually struggle. And it turns out that even a tenure-driven, female-dominated academic workplace can contain the seeds of struggle.

We worked on this article through the ups and downs of the card drive at the University, and in the context of a successful strike by Chicago public school teachers. We chewed on the meaning of the mass protests against austerity and union rights just north in Madison while we watched as little organized resistance developed to take on rising tuition costs at our University. We solidarized with the movement of the 99% in Chicago and hoped that Occupy would inspire increased support for campus labor, including professors. We submitted this article in the shadow of President Obama’s second inauguration, as hope of change from above seemed to dissipate, and we struggled with where to go from here. Within UIC United Faculty, negotiations continue; still no contract, still a pressing need to build links between students, faculty, and other campus labor groups to help win this much-needed agreement.

It was an honor to work with Gerry through the process of shaping this piece to contribute to the discussion about how working conditions shape clinical and teaching practice. We are extremely grateful for the opportunity to share this work with you, through Advances in Nursing Science. We hope that this article has inspired critical thought about the roles we play in our workplaces and how, collectively, we can make nursing stronger, on the nursing unit and in the classroom.

Visit the ANS web site today to download your copy of this article while it is featured at no charge and read their account  – one which deeply honors the intent and hope to seek peace in our communities.

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