Contributed by Margaret Schramm Horn

“Mwen regrèt ou gen pou doulè.” (I am sorry for your pain.)

It was the chant that greeted the redhead American, Ian, who led our team, as we returned patients from surgery to their family and cots.  Ian, an American from Colorado, had been volunteering at the hospital in Jimani, a small town on the Haitian/ Dominican Republic border, since the first evacuations from Port-au-Prince.  Creole is the national language of Haiti, but rarely taught or studied outside of Haiti.  He mastered (and taught us) that simple but heartfelt sentence in their language, and it created an immediate bond between all of us. In that small phrase, we were able to cross cultural boundaries.

I was thousands of miles away from my corporate life. I had just parted company with my former employer, a casualty of the financial crisis. The timing proved perfect to volunteer as a relief worker in the aftermath of the Haitian earthquake.

Read more

By Melissa J. Anderson (New York City)

The Glass Hammer is looking for more stories on Intrepid Women – professional women who have a flair for adventure, a love of the unknown, and the courage to step out of their comfort zone. Sound like you, or someone you know?

Previous Intrepid Women have included a lawyer / volunteer fire fighter, a marketing executive who scaled the Great Wall, and our former editor Pamela Weinsaft – who wrote about her expedition to Antarctica. We’ve also visited trapeze school, sky diving class, and even a Russian Bath House here in New York.

And now we want to know about your adventure.

How have you challenged yourself physically or emotionally lately? What was the outcome? What has your adventuresome, limit-pushing experience taught you about yourself, and how has it helped you professionally?

Are you an intrepid woman? Tell us why! Email me and tell me what you’d like to write about, and we’ll discuss the next steps.

Can’t wait to hear about your adventure!

By Tina Vasquez (Los Angeles)

After speaking to Betty Ross, you realize the power that comes with being honest and straightforward and that sometimes, a frank approach is the best approach. So let’s begin: What are the chances that a young black girl growing up in the segregated South during some of the region’s most tumultuous times would persevere and make a grand life for herself after growing up in low-income housing to parents with eighth grade educations? Are her chances even further diminished when she becomes the woman of the house after her mother passed away when she’s just thirteen, baring her with the full brunt of domestic responsibilities for her father and four siblings? What are her chances when she becomes a teenage bride and mother for the first time at eighteen, and a divorced mother of two at twenty?

For Betty Ross, a seventy-year-old financial advisor currently with Sapient Financial Group, who grew up in an area where high school was the height of education, succeeding and going beyond what was expected of her was never a choice, but rather the only option – no matter how long it took.

In 1971, Ross left San Antonio, Texas – where she was born and raised and currently lives today – just seven years after the city had officially been integrated, though it was still experiencing a great deal of racial unrest. “I decided that being in Texas wasn’t good for me or my sons; it held too many painful memories and the city was slow to progress,” Ross said. “I wanted to provide my sons with a different outlook on life.” If you’ve encountered Ross – even for a moment – you’ll understand that her sons would have turned out just fine without the change of location because her strong spirit, fearlessness, and tenacity are enough to facilitate any change necessary.

Read more

by Kelley Vollmer (New York City)

Since moving to Manhattan, self defense had been something I’d always meant to learn, but I kept finding excuses as to why I couldn’t take a class: it didn’t fit into my schedule; I didn’t know which course to take; or it was just too expensive. I told myself that since I lived in a safe neighborhood and made smart choices, I was fine. But, routinely, I’d find myself in situations – from men walking by me with catcalls to walking by myself late at night after work – in which I would feel vulnerable and fearful. It was at those times that I would remind myself that I needed to take a self defense class.

One night last summer upped the ante for me. I responded to an ad on Craigslist for free concert tickets. Of course, I now recognize how supremely naive I was but, at the time, my only thought was that the tickets were third row center for one of my favorite bands. The guy even claimed to not be looking for a date, saying he was too old. Even though he gave me “uh-oh” feeling the moment I met him and kept his fists clenched throughout the evening (in addition to having a curious bulge near his ankle and asking inappropriate questions about my sexuality), I stuck out the concert because I didn’t want to be rude. At the end, I thanked him for his generosity and left or, rather, attempted to leave.

When I said I was heading to Brooklyn, he said he had a car and could drive me as he was going that way. When I said, “No, thanks I’ll take the subway,” he responded with, “I’ll go with you.” I was feeling very uncomfortable so I sprinted into the chaos that is Times Square after all the Broadway shows let out.

Without looking back, I ran into the subway and down to the train platform right as an express train was pulling up. I jumped onto the train and sat down in the only available seat in a packed car. As I was about to sigh with relief, I felt a presence. I discreetly looked up and saw the old man from the concert – he had followed me onto the train and was now hiding behind someone so I would not see him.

Read more