The case for letting students inside the hospital

Most young people are asked to make decisions about their future before they have had the chance to see what that future can look like. In healthcare, that often reduces to a familiar binary, doctor or nurse. Everything else is invisible.

Then we wonder why so many students disengage, pivot late or enter fields they do not fully understand. The issue is not lack of ambition. It is a lack of access.

A day inside a hospital makes clear that healthcare is an ecosystem that includes clinicians, yes — and technicians, transport teams, lab professionals, food and nutrition staff, operations leaders and many others whose work is essential and largely unseen. 

For students who have never been inside that environment, those roles might as well not exist. That missing exposure narrows the pipeline before it ever has a chance to form.

The stakes extend far beyond individual career decisions. In the United States, health spending reached $5.3 trillion in 2024, 18% of the economy, and is projected to climb past 20% by 2033. Healthcare occupations are expected to generate about 1.9 million job openings per year until 2034.

On Long Island, healthcare and social assistance account for about 1 in 5 jobs. Ambulatory healthcare services alone added 18,500 jobs from 2018-2023 — more than any other significant local industry — and are projected to grow 25.6% between 2020 and 2030.

If healthcare is one of the country's defining economic sectors, students should not have to decide whether they belong in it without seeing it up close. High school students who are given structured access to hospital environments, as participants moving through the system, are asking questions, forming their own impressions and becoming prospective healthcare professionals with an idea of all the opportunities available. So far, students have participated from Mineola High School, Bethpage High School and The Academy Charter High School in Hempstead. 

In one session, we saw students examine a pig's heart, tracing the pathways they had encountered only in textbooks. In another, using a realistic mannequin arm and simulated blood, they practiced a blood draw, hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence. These moments shift something fundamental. The work is no longer abstract.

One student, after visiting a hospital lab, described discovering a career they had never heard of before and deciding to pursue it. Some students lean in. Others decide it is not for them. Both outcomes are valuable. Clarity, at that stage, is progress.

This exposure is easy to overlook because it does not immediately translate into credentials or hiring outcomes. It requires time, coordination and the willingness of busy professionals to open their doors. But if we are serious about building a healthcare workforce that is prepared for the communities it serves, early exposure is not an accessory. Without it, we are asking students to make decisions in the dark. 

Efforts like these are still evolving. Questions remain about scaling them, measuring long-term impact, and sustaining the commitment. On Long Island, and across New York, those questions are tied to the future of care and work.

But one thing is clear: When students see the work up close, engage with the people doing it, and ask their own questions, something changes. The pathway becomes visible. The decision becomes informed.

Healthcare does not just need more workers. It needs people who understand the work early enough to help build a system increasingly focused on prevention, not just response.

It starts with a simple step — letting them in.

This guest essay reflects the views of Br ian A. Aquart, vice president of workforce and community education at Northwell Health.