In life there is the path imagined & the path followed. The difference between these two paths is our experience. My experience on the path to becoming a Registered Nurse began in the fall of 1998 at West Chester University. For as long as I could recall I was possessed of an unmitigated passion for taking care of others. This passion, I was sure, this joy I found in helping others that seemed so much a part of who I was, would propel me through my undergraduate classes. In four years, I assumed, I would have a degree, would be starting a career as a professional nurse. This, the path imagined, was so clear.
Then there was the path followed. The idea that life is not to be lived for selfish ends but for the principal benefit and aide of others was instilled in me by my parents, both of whom immigrated to the United States from Vietnam at the close of the war. They arrived with no money and but a few sets of clothing. What they lacked, however, in material wealth they compensated for with devotion: to each other, to their children, and to those traditions that they brought with them from Vietnam. Born in America, but raised in a traditionally Vietnamese household, there were many points of friction. My parents often kept me home on the weekends to help with chores. A great emphasis was placed on academics and a great much of my day-to-day living was scheduled or spoken for without my input. Admittance to West Chester’s University’s nursing program was predicated on the completion of several pre-requisite courses. Their completion, however, did not guarantee immediate acceptance into the program. No longer bound to those traditions of family which had seemed so overwhelming, overbearing even, and suddenly unable to move forward in my studies, I drifted into the more social aspects of college. My grades reflect this: a person who has done so much correctly, so much for others, suddenly unable to help herself. Frustrated, I