From Research Coordinator to Policy Advocate

I'd spent three years coordinating NIH-funded clinical trials at Stanford, watching federal research dollars translate directly into patient survival. But what I didn't understand, what I couldn't have understood until I walked into those meetings on Capitol Hill, was how profoundly nursing is absent from the policy conversations that shape the research I used to coordinate.

The Summit fundamentally changed how I see my role as a future nurse.

Discovering NINR: Where Nursing Science Meets National Priority

One of the most eye-opening moments came during our session with Dr. Courtney Aklin, Director of the National Institute of Nursing Research. I learned that while there's an increasing need for nursing scientists, we're seeing a decline in PhD-prepared nurses. Not only is this an academic pipeline problem, it's a patient care crisis. Nurse scientists are the ones asking questions that no one else thinks to ask: How do we improve postpartum hypertension monitoring when it's the leading cause of maternal mortality? How do we predict nursing burnout before it leads to medical errors? How do we address food insecurity through medically-tailored grocery delivery programs?

These are nursing questions. They require a nursing lens. And they're funded through NINR, an institute I didn't even know existed before this Summit.

What struck me most was Dr. Aklin's emphasis on community-engaged research: designing studies with communities, not for them. Circling back to show what the data means and how it can help. This type of research takes years, she told us, but it's how we move from describing disparities to actually addressing them. As someone who had to fight to maintain Spanish consent forms when my research team lost our bilingual coordinator, I felt this deeply. That's the nursing perspective in action, seeing barriers before they exclude patients from life-saving trials.

The Economics of Care: Why Nurses Need to Understand Health Policy

Betty Rambur's keynote, "Care That Counts: How Nursing Leadership Shapes Sustainable Health Systems," challenged everything I thought I knew about why healthcare feels so broken. She opened with what she called "typical nurse syndrome"—nurses have brilliant ideas to change the system but no idea how to pay for them.

Here's what I learned: Insurance works because the well carry the sick. But right now, there aren't enough well people to carry the sick, financially or in terms of caregiving capacity. The average family of four is spending $30,000 a year on healthcare premiums. That money isn't available for higher education, infrastructure, or addressing the social determinants of health that create the conditions we're treating in hospitals.

Rambur traced how we got here: employer-based insurance started in 1929 when Baylor offered teachers coverage for $6/year. The system evolved to prioritize volume and services (high revenue) while keeping labor costs, of which nursing is the greatest proportion, as low as possible. Sound familiar? We're still living in that model. Hospital finances drive nurse staffing, and more money doesn't equal more efficiency. Despite decades of research on how nursing burnout impacts patient care, the paradox of overtreatment (financially, physically, emotionally) persists.

Her solutions were bold: universal healthcare coverage, nurse-run clinics, NPs in every long-term care setting, RN-owned hospitals. "When you're hospitalized," she said, "it's because you NEED a nurse." She challenged us to become RN innovators and entrepreneurs, to actively drive value-informed practice as an ethical imperative.

But what stuck with me most was her advice on skill development: "Say yes. Strive to be uncomfortable. Even as you're growing to fill the space you're in, you're outgrowing the space you're in." She quoted Rumi: "Start a huge foolish project, like Noah." That permission to be ambitious, to trust the difficult, to pursue flow over happiness, that's what I needed to hear as I think about my future as a research nurse who wants to influence policy.

Making the Ask: Translating Ideas into Action

The session on building powerful messages for policymakers was where theory met practice. We learned that despite being the most honest and ethical profession according to Gallup polls, nurses are among the least influential in health reform. Members of Congress, ironically, are at the very bottom of that same poll. Yet somehow, we're supposed to convince them to fund nursing research and education.

The key, we learned, is reframing. "It's not just about words and language," our facilitator explained. "It's about ideas. Ideas have to be in place in people's brains before the sound bite can make sense." We practiced crafting three talking points for different audiences asking for $610 million for Title VIII Nursing Workforce Development Programs and $215 million for NINR in FY2027.

For fiscal conservatives: Return on investment. Every dollar invested in nursing workforce development reduces costly nurse shortages that drive up hospital expenses and burden taxpayers through inflated Medicare and Medicaid costs. A robust nursing workforce is a strategic national asset—COVID-19 exposed dangerous gaps in our surge capacity.

For fiscal liberals: Health equity starts with the nursing workforce. Title VIII programs fund training in underserved communities and support diversity pipelines. NINR funds research focused on populations most neglected by broader biomedical research, the elderly, low-income patients, those managing chronic illness at home.

For the general public: Your nurse shortage is already here, and it's going to get worse. Long ER wait times, overworked nurses, understaffed nursing homes, you've already felt the symptoms. This funding trains the next generation so that when you or a loved one needs care, a qualified nurse is there.

The exercise taught me that advocacy isn't about having one perfect pitch, it's about understanding your audience and meeting them where they are.

On Capitol Hill: When Policy Becomes Personal

Meeting with legislative staff from Rep. Nancy Pelosi, Rep. Lateefah Simon, and Rep. Kevin Mullin was both exhilarating and humbling. We were told to use specific keywords when speaking to Senate staff: help, access, prevention. Have a clear ask. Use personal stories and data. Don't be too aggressive. And remember: bill passage isn't the only marker of success. Educating others and moving the conversation forward matters just as much.

I shared my story about advocating for Spanish consent forms when no one else was concerned about non-English speaking patients losing access to our trial. I explained how the Department of Education's proposed rule would cap my graduate nursing loans at half what medicine and law students can borrow, and how 81% of California nursing students say this would negatively impact their ability to finance their education. I asked for three things: protect NIH funding and encourage nursing representation in trial leadership, advocate for equitable loan limits for nursing students, and increase Title VIII funding.

What struck me most was how genuinely the staffers listened. Kit Devine, working on healthcare policy for Rep. Mullin, heard our concerns and expressed the Congressman's support. McKenzie Fields shared how nurses were by her side during her baby's delivery, a reminder that we're not talking about abstract policy, but about the people who show up in life's most critical moments. Sydney Dahiyat, who has an MPH and a physician mother, understood both the clinical and policy perspectives we were bringing.

I left those meetings feeling heard. Not necessarily confident that every ask would be granted, but confident that the conversation had moved forward. That student voices matter. That nursing voices matter.

What I'm Taking Forward

Before the Summit, I understood research. Now I understand how policy shapes the entire healthcare ecosystem—from which questions get funded, to who gets to ask them, to whether students like me can afford to become the nurse scientists who lead that work.

I'm returning to USF energized to share what I learned and eager to build on this momentum. Another Summit attendee, Jenny, and I are exploring the possibility of starting an all-levels nursing advocacy club (BSN, MSN, DNP) to keep these conversations going. Because if there's one thing this experience taught me, it's that advocacy isn't a one-time event, it's a practice. A commitment. A huge, foolish project that we start anyway, like Noah.

Someone prompted Dr. Aklin during her Q&A: "How can we begin this while we're still students?" Her answer: Get involved with researchers on your campus. Apply for the Academic Internship Program. Seek out parent grants. Those who get involved in research shape the questions that meet patients where they're at.

Betty Rambur reminded us: "Life is long, and no true effort is wasted. Trust the difficult."

The legislative staffers showed us: Your voice is vital to the policy process.

I'm choosing to believe all of them. And I'm choosing to start my huge, foolish project right now, building a career where nursing research, patient advocacy, and policy change aren't separate paths, but one integrated mission.

Because when you're hospitalized, it's because you need a nurse. And nurses deserve a seat at every table where decisions about healthcare are made.