Cedric McGhee stood in front of his fellow Lorain County Community College nursing graduates at his instructors’ request, speech in hand. Still, he wasn’t quite sure why he was there or what he would say. His journey to this moment was filled with stops and starts, ups and downs. 

“I doubted myself a lot,” he said. “I wondered, ‘Was this for me? Was I smart enough?’” 

Cedric, 36, of Lorain, had been asked to talk about his nursing school journey—the loss of his mother, attending tutoring sessions with his youngest son of four, now 18 months old, on his hip, and his struggles and triumphs. 

But he didn’t want the moment to be about him. 

“That moment was about the whole cohort,” he said. “It was about everyone in that moment because people had lost family members. A lot of them were struggling through school. It was a magical moment, honestly. And I felt so honored.” 

The impact of that moment, standing before his fellow Lorain County Community College nursing graduates, was shaped by several life-defining moments, some of which began during Cedric’s childhood.  

As a young boy, Cedric came to LCCC with his mom, Rosa Brown. She worked in the maintenance department, cleaning buildings in the evening. Cedric would help her as she told stories about the land the college was built on. 

“I remember cleaning the gym with her,” he said. 

That early introduction to LCCC led Cedric to the college right after his 2008 high school graduation. He began working toward an associate of science degree, with plans to enroll in the college’s nursing program. 

“I chose nursing to help people,” he said. “I would have the chance to actually save lives and make a difference.” 

Just two years into college however, Cedric’s life came to a crashing halt. In 2010, his mom passed away suddenly. He was with her at the time, attempted CPR on her, and then called 911. At the hospital, when the doctor came out to tell Cedric and his family they could come see her, he didn’t understand the gravity of why. 

“I thought that was a good sign—that we could all go in and see her,” he recalled. “Then the doctor told everyone to come and say their goodbyes.” 

Cedric hugged his mom for the last time and watched a tear roll down her cheek. 

“I’ll never forget it,” he said. “I didn’t say goodbye. I said, ‘I’ll see you later.’” 

Cedric attended class the next day but soon realized his head and heart weren’t in it. He withdrew from the nursing program shortly after. 

Years passed and Cedric would start and stop LCCC’s nursing program once more before enrolling again at 33 years old. A husband and father of three at the time, he felt a renewed passion for completing his degree. And he learned a profound lesson—the art of asking for help. 

“One of the professors said to me—I’ll never forget what she said—she told me, ‘You’re like the tree, because you’re always extending yourself to help other people, but you’re never helping yourself. Now all the birds are gone and you’re just left standing there.’” 

Those were the words of associate professor Nanci Berman, DPN, RN, and they stuck with the typically “suffer in silence” Cedric. 

“I started helping myself,” he said.