I am a devoted fan of the University of North Carolina men’s basketball team. As an undergraduate student at Carolina, I developed, like many of my peers, a deep hatred for the Duke University men’s basketball team. Known as the “Tobacco Road Rivalry”, athletes, students, and fans around the world have such a strong desire to beat the other team during annual matchups that books and documentaries have been produced on the subject. Regardless of the team’s ability to win, fans cheer for their beloved team, quickly dismissing the talent of the other. 

Much like the Tobacco Road Rivalry, many educators and students share deep favoritism for political parties. In perhaps one of the most heated and controversial presidential elections of our time, just the mention of politics and policy can ignite an untempered passion in many.  As a nursing educator charged with the task of teaching a class on health policy and advocacy the week after the presidential election, I faced a major challenge. I struggled with how I could channel the political energy and passion of my students—regardless of their “team affiliation”—to produce a learning environment where health policy came to life and provided an opportunity for active experimentation and reflection. 

As a little girl, my friends and I would line up my stuffed animals and listen intently to their hearts and tummies, check their ears for hidden treasures, and diagnose a plethora of make-believe health problems during the process.  Childhood entertainment found in my hometown in Eastern North Carolina was often limited to outside play and imagination rather than on-demand movies, home computers or social media platforms frequently found today.  I often think that those innocent, imaginative games laid the foundation for my appreciation of working on a team and fostered my on-going commitment to caring for, and serving, others.   As young children engaged in magical play, we shared a common goal of “caring” for our make-believe friends.  While our skill sets were questionable by today’s standards, we were confidant and committed to working together to improve the outcomes of those battered stuffed animals—we were a team.