Dean Mary Gilkey asked me to post the following notice:
Hello Graduates! Thank you all for your comments. It is great to hear that so many want to witness your pinning event! Although we had initially planned to have the event at a more intimate forum, as it is a solemn event steeped in tradition, we heard that many of your loved ones wanted to witness your special day and this is very heartfelt and moving. So absolutely we will accommodate this and as such we have contacted the Expo Center and secured this location. So let’s get those uniforms ready and prepare to walk the walk of many nurses before you. Here are the details.
Mandatory Rehearsal:
When: Tuesday May 10th at 11:00 a.m. (luncheon to follow)
Where: Daniel Technology Center, Culpeper Virginia
Pinning Ceremony
When: Wednesday May 11th at 11:00 a.m.
Where: Expo Center in Fredericksburg Virginia
The Formal Graduation with the entire college will be held later this same day at 7:00 p.m. reference the GCC website for further information.
I hope you all will witness the wonder in this historical rite of passage. Congratulation Colleagues.
Dean Gilkey
Showing posts with label commencement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label commencement. Show all posts
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
My Welcome and Comments at Today's Nursing Pinning Ceremony
Good afternoon. On behalf of the Local College Board, Administration, Faculty and Staff of Germanna Community College, welcome to the 2010 Nursing Pinning Ceremony.
In honor and recognition of these newest nurses and of nurses everywhere, please let me begin by reading a poem:
Ode to a Nurse
She is a symbol in her immaculate white,
Softly treading through the stillness of the night,
Quick to cope with a sudden emergency,
She is that wonderful nurse who is on duty;
Day in and day out the constant rounds she will make
Weary, tired, the patient, she does not forsake,
Gently caressing the crying, frightened child,
Tenderly caring for the bedridden senile;
She is the nurse, the beautiful Angel in white.
She is like a star, shinning ever so bright,
Many tears, and smiles along the way she has seen,
But she will stand up, ‘ever like a great Queen.
This poem was written by a nurse, my mother, Ann J. Sam.
Her story is her own, but not very different from those of many of you who are graduating this year. She was one of 11 children who survived to adulthood in a family of Polish immigrants. She grew up in poverty, moving from house to house as her father worked the jobs he could find in Western Pennsylvania.
Of those eleven, all but one dropped out of school to help earn money for the family. The one who graduated from high school was my mother.
She dreamed of being a nurse, but her mother laughed and said, “We’re too poor. Just work any job you can until you find a husband.” And so she cleaned houses for several years and did some part-time bookkeeping.
WWII gave her an opportunity that otherwise may never have come: The Nurse Cadet Program. She had her education paid for by the government in return for a commitment to serve as a military nurse if needed. The war ended before she graduated in 1946 and so she did not serve in the Army.
But her life was one of service, especially through her career as a nurse. She was old school. She always wore her whites and her cap and her pin.
Last March, when she died at 91 years of age, she was still a licensed nurse.
I learned a lot from my mother, including what it meant to be a nurse. In the last part of her career, she worked as night nurse supervisor at a nursing home.
In her last few weeks of life, she struggled with pain, with fear, with confusion. It was hard for all of us in the family to watch.
But time after time in the hospital or the rehabilitation center, one nurse after another came to her side, ministered to the body and the machines, but also to her mind and spirit, held her hand, calmed her down, prayed with her, helped her to deal with her fears. Those nurses also cared for us, the family, listening to our concerns, helping us to deal with our fears and our mourning as mom slid away.
One day, one of the last days that I saw her alive, I was in the hospital room as a different nurse entered, checked the monitors, changed a drip, then talked quietly to mom. That nurse held mom’s hand, helped her to quiet her fears as mom knew her time was coming.
She spoke briefly to me and began to leave the room. It was then that I noticed that her name tag said “Ann, RN.”
I said, “Ann, you are an RN?”
She said, “Yes.”
And I said, “Ann who is an RN meet Ann who is an RN,” and I pointed to my mother. “You have just done for her what she did for countless people in her career. She worked at a nursing home. She held the hands of so many who were dying. She would be honored and proud to know you because you carry on in the great tradition of what it means to be a nurse. Thank you.”
And Ann the RN went back to Ann the RN and spoke quietly to her again about being a nurse. Then she finished, leaving the room.
So to you who are in the audience and are nurses, and to you who are about to become nurses, on behalf of families everywhere, on behalf of patients everywhere, thank you for ministering to our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. Thank you for making our pain a little less, our fears a little less, our hope a little more, our health a little better, and our final passing a little easier. You may not know how much of a difference you make, or you may not be thanked enough even if you do.
My mother is a tough act to follow. But, graduates, I know all of you will do her and nurses everywhere proud. Congratulations.
Thank you all for answering the great calling of nursing.
In honor and recognition of these newest nurses and of nurses everywhere, please let me begin by reading a poem:
Ode to a Nurse
She is a symbol in her immaculate white,
Softly treading through the stillness of the night,
Quick to cope with a sudden emergency,
She is that wonderful nurse who is on duty;
Day in and day out the constant rounds she will make
Weary, tired, the patient, she does not forsake,
Gently caressing the crying, frightened child,
Tenderly caring for the bedridden senile;
She is the nurse, the beautiful Angel in white.
She is like a star, shinning ever so bright,
Many tears, and smiles along the way she has seen,
But she will stand up, ‘ever like a great Queen.
This poem was written by a nurse, my mother, Ann J. Sam.
Her story is her own, but not very different from those of many of you who are graduating this year. She was one of 11 children who survived to adulthood in a family of Polish immigrants. She grew up in poverty, moving from house to house as her father worked the jobs he could find in Western Pennsylvania.
Of those eleven, all but one dropped out of school to help earn money for the family. The one who graduated from high school was my mother.
She dreamed of being a nurse, but her mother laughed and said, “We’re too poor. Just work any job you can until you find a husband.” And so she cleaned houses for several years and did some part-time bookkeeping.
WWII gave her an opportunity that otherwise may never have come: The Nurse Cadet Program. She had her education paid for by the government in return for a commitment to serve as a military nurse if needed. The war ended before she graduated in 1946 and so she did not serve in the Army.
But her life was one of service, especially through her career as a nurse. She was old school. She always wore her whites and her cap and her pin.
Last March, when she died at 91 years of age, she was still a licensed nurse.
I learned a lot from my mother, including what it meant to be a nurse. In the last part of her career, she worked as night nurse supervisor at a nursing home.
In her last few weeks of life, she struggled with pain, with fear, with confusion. It was hard for all of us in the family to watch.
But time after time in the hospital or the rehabilitation center, one nurse after another came to her side, ministered to the body and the machines, but also to her mind and spirit, held her hand, calmed her down, prayed with her, helped her to deal with her fears. Those nurses also cared for us, the family, listening to our concerns, helping us to deal with our fears and our mourning as mom slid away.
One day, one of the last days that I saw her alive, I was in the hospital room as a different nurse entered, checked the monitors, changed a drip, then talked quietly to mom. That nurse held mom’s hand, helped her to quiet her fears as mom knew her time was coming.
She spoke briefly to me and began to leave the room. It was then that I noticed that her name tag said “Ann, RN.”
I said, “Ann, you are an RN?”
She said, “Yes.”
And I said, “Ann who is an RN meet Ann who is an RN,” and I pointed to my mother. “You have just done for her what she did for countless people in her career. She worked at a nursing home. She held the hands of so many who were dying. She would be honored and proud to know you because you carry on in the great tradition of what it means to be a nurse. Thank you.”
And Ann the RN went back to Ann the RN and spoke quietly to her again about being a nurse. Then she finished, leaving the room.
So to you who are in the audience and are nurses, and to you who are about to become nurses, on behalf of families everywhere, on behalf of patients everywhere, thank you for ministering to our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. Thank you for making our pain a little less, our fears a little less, our hope a little more, our health a little better, and our final passing a little easier. You may not know how much of a difference you make, or you may not be thanked enough even if you do.
My mother is a tough act to follow. But, graduates, I know all of you will do her and nurses everywhere proud. Congratulations.
Thank you all for answering the great calling of nursing.
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