Then she became a private duty nurse, in charge of six patients on the various wards. She attended 12 hours of lectures a day, and got another 4 hours of hands on experience. The 16 month program was grueling to say the least. It is expected that she was admitted to the program due to her 15 year relationship with that institution. Although it was easier for African American women to pursue higher education in the North than in the South, it was still rare. Then, at the age of 33, she was admitted to a new program, the first in the nation, that that very hospital had started to train nurses. She worked 16 hours a day.įinally she was able to become a nurse’s aide. At 18, She got a job at the New England Hospital for Women and Children, and worked there for 15 years. Her pursuit of nursing didn’t take a straight line, but you can tell that it always remained her goal. That part of history must have been extremely formative for her. The war didn’t end until she was 20 years old. She decided at age 18 that she wanted to be a nurse. She was 15 when the civil war started, and she saw the need and the value of nurses during that conflict.

She attended one of the first integrated schools in the country, through the 4 th grade. I suspect they instilled that strong desire in their child. She was born near Boston to freed slaves who had come up from North Carolina before the American Civil War, hoping to live somewhere with less racial discrimination. Given that she was born in 1845, though, limited photographs are par for the course. The one below is the same one that was on the billboard. The first thing I learned was that there are very few images of Ms. When I got to my nice, warm, dry house, I changed into my fuzzy jammies (“Mary Eliza Mahoney, Mary Eliza Mahoney…”) sat in my recliner with my snuggly dachshund ensconced on my lap, and I Googled. I still had a few miles to go to get home, but the whole drive I kept repeating Mary Eliza Mahoney, so I’d remember her name long enough to Google her. Her presence made me feel less alone on that cold, wet road.

This was the first I’d heard of this amazing woman. The caption said, “Mary Eliza Mahoney, First African American nurse.”

Suddenly, looking down at me as a beautiful yet somber face of a woman in an old-fashioned nursing outfit. I looked up just as a digital billboard, perched high above a used car lot, was changing images. It felt like I was the only person alive (or at least awake) on earth. During a recent rainy, late night commute home, I found myself on a deserted street.

Mary eliza mahoney images