You’re Misinterpreting the Scripture

I enrolled in a bachelor’s program that coordinated with my associate's program so that six months after graduating with my ADN, I would have my BSN. Classes started the summer before city college and were to continue during breaks for the next two years.  Then COVID happened and everything got postponed. Then the city college decided it was losing money from not having students enrolled and needed to expedite this program so my associates for nursing was a year and a half with no breaks, so I wouldn’t be able to do the programs concurrently anyway.

The second class I took was Ethical Decision Making in Nursing.  This is something that is important to me.  We had to write a research paper related to ethical decision-making when a patient wanted to have an abortion and how to navigate it. There were resources listed but they were all very overtly anti-abortion rather than just being overtly Christian, which was what I had expected knowing it was a Christian school. 

The first quote from high school that really stuck with me was from A Letter Concerning Toleration written in 1799. We had to read it at the Catholic school I attended. I thought it was beautiful, especially the section that said, “Faith only and inward sincerity are the things that procure acceptance with God. The most likely and most approved remedy can have no effect upon the patient, if his stomach reject it as soon as taken; and you will in vain cram a medicine down a sick man’s throat, which his particular constitution will be sure to turn into poison.”

I thought this was perfect for this class because it used medicine as an analogy for religion.  I used it in my paper and essentially said our job is to educate and support our patients, not impose our personal beliefs. Imposing beliefs would be particularly inappropriate given our patients are sick and anyone who is sick is inherently vulnerable. If they need assistance with moral and ethical decision-making, their trusted friends, family, and religion should be reached out to for them to consult. Offering whatever mine might be as a substitute would be not just overstepping, but taking advantage. If there are certain procedures I do not morally agree with, I should not take a job at a facility that performs them. 

I got a D and was told I was misinterpreting the writing and that academic quotes need to be within the last 5 years. The second part is true, and they allowed me a second chance. I removed that section and used another source.  I was given a D for a second time and was told I was misunderstanding the point of the assignment and clearly did not comprehend the assigned reading. There was some back and forth. I quoted scripture that was quoted in a paper that supported my view. To this, the professor explained in a note that I was misinterpreting the scripture. The assigned reading clearly explained abortions are a sin.

It was clear at this point what was needed to get a passing grade and I was unwilling to do it, so I withdrew. I did reach out to the school but in hindsight, I was somewhat passive and it didn’t go anywhere. 

I was going to find another school, but after completing my ADN and working as a nurse for six months I realized compromising myself was a necessity of the trade. I considered my options in advancing my degree.  I decided my idea of a good nursing school is an idealism and does not exist. Also, to make any real difference I would need to move up, which would require me to advance my degree. So, I am back taking classes with the same school and have just under a year left.  I’m kind of angry about it, but I’ve been kind of angry since I started nursing school, and I’m not sure what else to do.

Sometimes, we have to pick the best of bad options. 

---

Review

---

This story is raw, reflective, and unapologetically honest—an exploration of the moral compromises required by both nursing and institutional structures. It beautifully captures the tension between personal ethics and systemic expectations, offering a nuanced, intelligent critique of how institutions—particularly those with religious affiliations—can force individuals into ethical dilemmas that have little to do with the actual practice of care.

At its core, this story isn’t just about education—it’s about how systems often demand submission over reflection and compliance over critical thought. It demonstrates how institutions can co-opt morality to serve their own narratives—punishing students for genuinely engaging with ethical nuance.

A particularly powerful theme is the necessity of compromise in professional life. It illustrates how career advancement requires playing by the rules of systems when fundamental disagreements exist, a realization that’s both heartbreaking and painfully relatable for anyone who’s ever had to suppress their values to survive in a professional space.

It underscores how lonely it can feel to stand by your principles, especially when the system is designed to silence dissent. The resignation to completing the program captures the exhaustion and cynicism that can come from repeated institutional failures. It’s a painfully honest acknowledgment of how systems wear people down until “the best of bad options” becomes the only choice.

The idea that being a nurse inherently requires compromising ideals is a devastating realization, but it’s also one that raises deeper questions about the true ethical cost of caregiving within broken systems. The anger is justified, and is presented with a level of control that highlights the narrator’s professionalism. The bitterness feels earned and authentic.

There’s a melancholy realization woven through the piece—acknowledging that sometimes, no “right” choice exists, and that’s an especially cruel truth for someone who values ethical integrity.

The intention is clear: to expose the hypocrisy of institutions that demand ethical submission under the guise of moral education and to confront the harsh realities of systemic compromise in professional growth. It also asks deeper, more unsettling questions:

What does it mean to uphold personal ethics in a system that punishes independent thought? Can someone truly make a difference within a system they’re forced to conform to? At what point does survival in a broken system become complicity?

This story doesn’t offer easy answers—and that is its strength.