Morgan Morgan, MS, CCLS, Executive Editor

There is something quietly profound about sitting down to write a final letter to the people you have admired for so long. As I compose this letter—my last as executive editor—I find myself doing what child life specialists do best: holding two things at once. The bittersweetness of an ending, and the genuine brightness of what lies ahead.

When I first joined the field, child life was a profession that many outside of pediatric healthcare struggled to explain at dinner parties. We knew what we did. We knew why it mattered. But the broader world was still catching up. What I have witnessed since then has been nothing short of remarkable. The profession has grown in depth, in visibility, and in the sophistication of its voice. The research has strengthened. The advocacy has sharpened. The presence of child life specialists in hospitals, clinics, hospices, and community settings has expanded in ways that would have felt ambitious to dream about not so long ago. While we know that we have a way to go before we are considered ubiquitous, I hope we can agree that we have made great strides.

That growth did not come without struggle. Our field has navigated funding pressures, staffing shortages, and the profound weight of practicing during a global pandemic that tested every one of us—clinically, emotionally, and professionally. I watched this community meet those challenges with a resilience that was instructive to witness. Child life specialists are, by the very nature of their work, people who know how to find meaning in difficulty. It turns out that capacity does not stay at the bedside. It travels with you.

Working on the Bulletin has been one of the great privileges of my professional life. Every submission reviewed, every issue assembled, every note from a reader who said “this article changed how I practice”—these have been reminders of why the written exchange of ideas matters so deeply to a profession built on communication. You have trusted these pages with your research, your reflections, your questions, and your convictions. That trust has never felt ordinary to me.

To the practitioners reading this in hospital corridors, break rooms, and home offices: You are the reason this publication exists. Your work—the procedural preparation, the therapeutic play, the presence offered to a frightened child or a grieving parent—is not peripheral to healthcare. It is, in the most essential sense, what humanizes it. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise, and do not stop telling that story yourselves.

I leave this role with a full heart and an uncomplicated confidence in what comes next. I know that Katie Walker, our incoming executive editor, will continue to elevate the Bulletin into this new era of our profession. Katie is a brilliant CCLS and educator who will bring her incredible insights and ability to share her ideas to these very pages. I am also eager to continue our partnership with Smithbucklin. The knowledge they have shared with me in our short time together has given me nothing but hope for the future of this publication. Working on the Bulletin has been the cornerstone of my career (this was my first volunteer position as a CCLS!), and I will be forever grateful for the connections and experiences I have gained through my time.

Now that you have humored me with space to reflect on the past, I want to introduce you to this issue and the bright future of the child life profession. This issue contains brilliant contributions from our colleagues at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia about building a coverage relief team

that not only extends coverage during periods of short staffing but also extends the life cycle of a practicing CCLS. Innovation like this is desperately needed at a time when so many are facing burnout in the workplace. In a similar vein, Saghi Tootoonchinia, MSc., CCLS, RECE, and Sabina Spataro BASc, CCLS, write about their unique roles on the Foundation Relations Team and how they bring developmental knowledge and cultural sensitivity to their hospital’s event and donation programming. Both articles provide creative solutions to intentionally extend the role of child life beyond the bedside.

This issue also features an interview with Kayla Black, MS, CCLS, chair of the Conference Planning Committee. She shares insight into the hours of hard work that her committee puts into planning and executing the annual conference every year.

We also revisit a topic that continues to feel as timely as ever. In “It’s Still Okay Not to Be Okay,” Kristin Brown, CCLS, reflects on the importance of continued mental health hygiene as a practicing CCLS. In a tumultuous world, it can be challenging to stay hopeful and engaged in the work, and she reminds us that some days just showing up is all we have.

Finally, we wanted to end on a celebration because March is Child Life Month! I hope this month has been a time for reflection, education, and celebration of all our hard work! I know that the hospital (and maybe the world) is a better place because of child life specialists.

It has been an honor to serve alongside you.

With deep gratitude,
Morgan Morgan, MS, CCLS