An association for Filipino nurses offers support to a group that’s borne a disproportionate burden during the pandemic
"As a nurse, you’re in between the life and death of a person,” Elizabeth de-Leon Gamboa says. She recounts a time when her initiative and quick actions helped resuscitate an unresponsive patient at a rehab facility. Sharp with her IV skills, de-Leon Gamboa put a line in, allowing other units to administer medication and revive the patient. “That rapid response taught me that I’m really valuable,” she says. “That was one of my greatest moments.”
De-Leon Gamboa is a registered nurse in Southern Nevada, but she got her bachelor of science in nursing in the Philippines in 1991. She decided on nursing school because of the United States work petition that sponsors permanent residency during employment. She is one of the hundreds of thousands of immigrant nurses from the Philippines who’ve worked to realize a better life in the U.S. since the late ’60s. Over the decades, Filipino nurses have helped to fill the gap in the U.S. healthcare industry, representing around 4 percent of all registered nurses nationwide, whereas Filipinos only account for 1.2 percent of the U.S. population overall.
The pandemic exacerbated a healthcare-worker shortage that started with Nevada’s early 2000s population boom. For the last two years, overworked nurses have been fighting to stay afloat as shortages heightened to new levels. And, because of Filipino nurses’ disproportionate representation in the field, the struggle has hit this population hard. According to National Nurses United, about 30 percent of U.S. registered nurses who’ve died because of COVID-19 were Filipino. This immense pressure on the physical, mental, and emotional health of Filipino nurses is something I’ve seen firsthand from my mother, a Filipino nurse who retired following the pandemic. “On top of the physical stress, many nurses worried about exposing their own families to the virus,” de-Leon Gamboa says. Nurses would take extra precautions when going home to their families to prevent the spread of the virus, often isolating themselves from their loved ones for weeks and months.
While Filipino nurses have confronted these hardships and risks on the frontlines since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, who has taken care of them? Perhaps not surprisingly, they’re doing it themselves. De-Leon Gamboa heads an association that is responding to those challenges with advocacy, education, and support.
Growing up, De-Leon Gamboa wanted to be a lawyer. But her mother and two older sisters are nurses, which, according to career forces in a stereotypical Filipino family, meant she was expected to be one, too. In the end, she gave in to the expectation because of the work petition, sending her to California, where her sisters were already working as nurses. Despite initially not wanting to be like her family members, de-Leon Gamboa says her mother became her inspiration. “I’ve always wanted to serve people,” she says. “Even when I wanted to become a lawyer, I wanted to advocate for people.” She’s been doing just that for the last 31 years as a registered nurse, holding multiple clinical and management positions in California and Nevada.
De-Leon Gamboa’s advocacy continued when she joined the nonprofit Philippine Nurses Association of Nevada (PNANV) in 2014, working her way up as a board member and eventually being appointed president in 2021. UMC nurses founded PNANV in 1992 to recognize and celebrate the hard work of Filipino nurses, and to foster their well-being.
During the pandemic, PNANV volunteers started the “Masks On, Shields Up!” personal protective equipment drive, making masks and face shields and donating them to hospitals, nursing homes, schools, and the public. The organization has also taken part in vaccination and flu clinics, working with the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and organizations such as the Asian Community Development Council to help boost numbers.
PNANV celebrated its 30th anniversary at the annual fundraiser gala in May. The theme, Pearls of Wisdom and Resilience, evoked the last years’ experience. “2020 was the year of the nurse,” de-Leon Gamboa says. “We really had to step up to the plate and commit to our mission.” That mission is to take care of one another.
De-Leon Gamboa recalls when a nurse practitioner, who was also a member of PNANV, was infected with COVID-19 and had to be intubated and hospitalized for about a month. While he was bedridden, his own mother was also infected and passed away. The organization helped him with their Gifts of Sharing event, which gathered money and food donations for nurses afflicted with COVID-19 during the holidays.
Along with other issues that the Asian American Pacific Islander community already faced, the pandemic exacerbated anti-Asian violence, making Filipinos and other people of Asian descent targets of hate, racism, and xenophobia. It’s another plague that has hit hospitals, where stories circulate of Asian healthcare workers being harassed on the job. PNANV has been involved in discussions and roundtable meetings at various locations — including hospitals, the Las Vegas Metropolitan Department, and Roseman University — addressing diversity issues and the root cause of anti-Asian hate. De-Leon Gamboa says that colleagues who’ve experienced verbal abuse from patients ask themselves what they did wrong, and say that it "gives them feelings of heaviness, sadness, and anxiety.” Yet they still have to take care of these patients.
Because of all these pressures, nurses’ greatest need right now is mental health support. Through self-care programs, the organization has shifted more of its focus to members taking care of themselves. “As a nurse, you can’t really give from an empty cup. You have to fill your own cup in order to give,” de-Leon Gamboa says. PNANV is creating a comprehensive mental health guide to help immigrant nurses dealing with the additional stresses of moving to and assimilating in a new country.
While Filipino nurses’ importance is being recognized, de-Leon Gamboa believes that more could be done. Community support and compassion are needed more than ever, and that includes spiritual support. “Our culture of prayer has a lot to do with our resilience and how we were able to survive this pandemic,” de-Leon Gamboa says. That spiritual culture is unique to Filipino nurses, showing their strong sense of hope and prayer while they go through the toughest battles of their careers. She is hopeful and positive that, with more support and advocacy for their safety, these essential caregivers can handle any kind of weather now, as much of the pandemic storm passes. Φ