The response to COVID-19 has raised the profile of health care professionals, inspiring a new wave of interest in front-line health careers. In light of the pandemic’s disproportionate effect on Indigenous communities, an increasing number of Native students are now taking a serious look at the educational paths to crucial health care roles.

Being a student in the time of COVID-19 has meant living and learning in new ways. The same can be said about professors, who have faced their own challenges and opportunities while learning to teach on digital platforms. Everyone’s situation during this time is unique. Some are on campus with safety guidelines and others are remote learning. With these drastic changes, schools, faculty, students, and families have shown tremendous resilience. Here are some lessons being drawn from this crash course in change and adaptation.
 

When I was young, I remember being awe-inspired by large structures and how things so massive could stay standing. Then on the Navajo Reservation, where I have lots of family, I would see collapsing houses and imperfect roads. That’s when I realized civil engineering could be a way to positively impact my community and the world around me, using my math skills to improve the lives of fellow Natives. 

Native Hawaiian taro farmers inspired me to enter the 2017 AISES Energy Challenge, an energy-specific science fair that encourages high school students to get into STEM. Taro is a prized staple food and the root of Hawaiian culture. These farmers are off the grid because many of their patches are historical or cultural sites. I wanted to learn how byproducts from bacteria in the mud in their fields could provide them with a sustainable source of energy. I won the Grand Prize for designing a microbial fuel cell.

I am Water’s Edge born for Red Running into Water. My maternal grandfather’s first clan is Mexican Clan, and my paternal grandfather’s first clan is Water’s Edge Clan. In this way, I am a Navajo woman.

Does this sound familiar? You’re logging long hours, but no matter how hard you try, your to-do list keeps growing. Worse, while you have your share of successes, important things sometimes slip through the cracks of your action-packed days. But take heart. Adopting some strong organizational habits could be the key to making your work life much more productive — and far less stressful.

Cherokee, N.C., is known for one thing: Harrah’s Casino. As a young girl growing up in its shadow, I knew that a career tied to Harrah’s wasn’t in my future. Instead, my interests lay in finance and art. But it wasn’t until I attended Arizona State University that I under-
stood how to combine the two. Now, as an MBA candidate at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in Los Angeles, I’m well on my way to realizing my dreams by combining my financial skills with my love of art.

In my first year at McGill University in Montreal, I found a home and community around the long table in the university’s four-story, red stone First Peoples’ House. The house serves as a residence and gathering space for Indigenous students, and by the time I completed my first year of university, the Wednesday soup and bannock lunches were part of my routine. It was a good way to get to know other Indigenous students on campus, and it has helped me to build that Indigenous community. 

Does any of this sound familiar? You worry about meeting expectations and you credit “luck” for your accomplishments? What about feeling that other people are overestimating you, along with a secret fear that people will find out you’re not as capable as they think? If you have thoughts and feelings like that, you may be dealing with “impostor syndrome.” Also known as impostor phenomenon, it’s a nagging inner voice whispering that you don’t deserve your achievements — that you don’t really belong.

You made it through school, you landed that job, and you are working your heart out. But there’s that nagging feeling — the whisper inside saying you don’t really belong or deserve your success.