Diane Rodriguez, MSN, RN

When I reflect on my journey, the answer to what has carried me forward is clear: my family and friends, whose unwavering support has been my anchor; the mentors who believed in me before I fully believed in myself; and my faith in God, who I trust has guided every step — including the ones I did not fully understand at the time.

That foundation made it possible to show up fully in every role I have held.

My years working across diverse areas of healthcare — from pediatric oncology and the emergency room to urgent care and quality education — gave me something that cannot be taught in a classroom alone: perspective. Each role deepened my understanding of how systems, culture, and education intersect to shape patient care. That breadth of experience became the foundation of my leadership, teaching me to see not just the moment in front of me, but the bigger picture.

Today, as a clinical instructor, I have the privilege of bringing all of that into the classroom. I get to empower students, guide their growth, and witness them find their footing as the next generation of nurses — and there is nothing more rewarding than that.

In many ways, this is where I always knew I was meant to be. The desire to teach was there from the very beginning; experience simply gave me something worth teaching. Every role I held, every challenge I navigated, and every team I worked alongside instilled in me the values of compassion and collaboration that I now pass forward.

The road was not always direct. But it led exactly where it was supposed to.

Never stop learning.

Education is not a destination — it is a lifelong commitment. Whether it is pursuing a certification, attending a webinar, attending a conference, or taking the leap to advance your formal education, every opportunity to grow matters.

In a field that is constantly evolving, your knowledge is one of your most powerful tools. Staying current is not just a professional advantage — it is a responsibility to the patients and students who depend on you.

Invest in yourself. The return is immeasurable.

If I could speak to my younger self, I would offer three simple words: Slow down. Ask questions. Seek out resources. And trust that the difficulty you are feeling is not a sign that you do not belong; it is a sign that you are growing. I tell my students this often: the first year after you graduate and get a job is the hardest. Time management alone can feel overwhelming, and that is before you factor in the complexity of navigating new teams, new environments, and the weight of caring for patients. But here is what I want every new nurse to remember — you are not alone in that feeling. The colleague beside you may be experiencing the exact same thing and simply not saying so. That is why community matters. Get involved in professional organizations. Connect with other novice nurses. Talk to people who are in the trenches alongside you, because those conversations can be the difference between feeling isolated and feeling supported. Yes, there will be challenges. There will be difficult colleagues, moments of self-doubt, and shifts that test everything you have. But the goal — always — is the patient. When you anchor yourself to that purpose and lean on your team, you will find your footing.

Through it all, do not neglect yourself. I always remind my students: you cannot pour from an empty cup. Self-care is not a luxury in this profession; it is a responsibility. After a hard week or a demanding term, I ask them: what is one thing you are going to do to fill your cup back up? That question matters. Because a nurse who takes care of themselves is better equipped to take care of everyone else. You can do this. I promise — you can do this.

There is a growing urgency for nurses and educators to understand the changes that technology and AI are bringing to healthcare and to be active participants in shaping them.

I still hear the words of one of my professors at Barry University: "We have to be in the drawing rooms. We have to be in the rooms where the decisions are made." For too long, I haven't lived up to what I believed was so impactful.... But that changes now. If nurses are not at the table, someone else will be — and they will make decisions without truly understanding what we do. We are the ones at the bedside. We are the ones who see, in real time, when a change makes no sense or when a policy creates risk. We are the ones who ask the hard questions. The voice of Nurses belongs in every room where the future of healthcare is being designed. This is why I believe advocacy is not optional; it is a professional responsibility. We must advocate for the human touch that defines nursing. We are not replaceable, but we are responsible. Responsible for understanding the process to ensure patient safety is met. AI can support us. It cannot replace us. We must make the hospital environment safe. I am currently pursuing a course in AI and Healthcare through Johns Hopkins to understand this landscape deeply enough to meaningfully integrate it into the curriculum and clinical practice. The future of healthcare will be shaped by technology. Nurses must be the ones helping to shape it, but we must understand it as well.

As a Latina nurse educator, representation is not just something I value — it is something I live out intentionally every day. I make it a priority to create inclusive learning environments where every student feels seen, safe, and empowered to ask questions, make mistakes, and grow. Diversity in the classroom is not a checkbox; it is a necessity. When students see themselves reflected in their educators and in the profession, it changes what they believe is possible for them.

My approach to teaching is deeply rooted in the values I have carried from years of working in inpatient care: teamwork, compassion, and an unwavering focus on the patient. Healthcare is not a solo endeavor. It requires people who can collaborate across differences, communicate with empathy, and never lose sight of why they are there. Those are the lessons I bring into every classroom, every conversation, and every interaction with a student.

What I love most about the work I do today is witnessing transformation — watching a student move from uncertainty to confidence, and knowing I had the privilege of walking alongside them in that journey. But perhaps the most personal lesson I carry came not from a textbook or a clinical rotation, but from my own experience with burnout. It stopped me in my tracks and forced me to be still — to reflect, to pray, and to ask God to guide me back to where I was supposed to be. That season taught me something I now pass on to every student I teach: you cannot pour from an empty cup.

Mindfulness and self-awareness are not soft skills — they are survival skills in this profession. Taking care of yourself is not selfish. It is the foundation that makes everything else possible.