Profiles of Strong Women

 

“Strong Women don’t have Attitudes, Strong Women have Values.”

 

 

To me, this wailing woman has come to symbolize the women’s movement in 2016.  Screaming and crying merely because her candidate did not win an election.  She was unnerved at what she had been led and manipulated to believe might happen after the election.    

I’m not opposed to many of the original concepts of the women’s movement, but I am opposed to what it has seemed to evolve into.   One thing is for certain, it is NOT about choice or diversity.  It is about marching lock-step on every political issue, offering NO dissent, and following every directive from its self-proclaimed “leaders.”   If you disagree you are eviscerated by those who proclaim enlightenment. 

With one of the major binding factors of the movement being “victimhood,” I see no strength in the movement whatsoever.  Once someone identifies as a “victim” they are nothing more than that.  Victims will never overcome adversity, they will simply wallow in it. 

A friend who volunteers at a center for pregnant young women, the majority of whom are black, provides them with viable options for not only their pregnancies but also their lives.  She often asks these young women about their goals in life, with the typical question of “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  I find the most common answer to be quite shocking, “To marry an NBA player.”   Is this the end result of 50 years of the women’s movement?  Marrying a rich man to take care of you?  That’s all?

I have also been stunned by Kamala Harris stating that she would like to legalize prostitution.  So, is this the pinnacle of the women’s movement?  Prostitution?  It’s certainly not how envisioned it nor what I hope for as a future for young women and girls in my family.  

But, in my life I have both known and read about truly strong women.  I am dividing them into two groups, the first six were women who grew and thrived and effected change prior to the woman’s movement of the 1960s.  I’m certain it is difficult for some to believe that any of these women could have accomplished so much, each under an umbrella of different, difficult circumstances, without the government interceding to supposedly save them.  These strong women did not wait for laws or the world to change, they instead stepped outside of themselves and helped change the world.  They were all tenacious and persistent, the two qualities of all successful people, male or female.  You don’t wait for things to come to you, you simply go out and make them happen.  

Oh, and no one changes anything by simply wearing a ribbon on their lapel.  If you are working only to raise awareness, rather than working to make changes, you are making excuses rather than making a difference. 

Here are a few profiles of women who are truly Strong women, not just women with nasty, bitchy attitudes and sharp retorts, women who have risen above their difficulties in life and made no excuses.

 

 

Gita

Born in the 1920s in Bavaria, Germany, Gita began the study of piano and music quite young.  It was her passion through childhood and on into adulthood.  She dreamed of being a concert pianist until Hitler rose to power in the 1930s and her world changed forever. 

In Germany, at that time, Bavarians were looked down upon by the Germans of the they north, much as Americans of the north have a strong bias against southerners, often implying that we are stupid or backward.  

As Hitler began implementing his various social programs, Gita was swept away from her mother and home and placed in a work camp.  During that time, she, along with all of the other girls, was forced to work hard for the German military effort in support of the war and the soldiers.  She was thankfully spared some of the more inhumane requirements of the Third Reich when it was discovered that she was a pianist.   From that point on, she was transported to various military installations to entertain the troops with music.  It was on one such trip that she first came face-to-face with the brutality of war.  While on the train, she was sitting in an aisle seat while her best friend was sitting next to the window.  An Allied plane flew over and strafed the train with gunfire, killing Gita’s friend. 

Gita continued “following orders” and performing for the troops which led, one time, to a private reception at which she performed.  The reception was for Hitler himself. 

As the structure of the Third Reich began collapsing, Gita was able to escape and reunite with her mother.   Afraid of what would happen with the Allies at Germany’s door, Gita and her mother escaped to the perceived safety of Czechoslovakia.  Upon arriving in the country, they came upon an America Army encampment and asked for help.  They, along with many other German women were taken in and cared for until the end of the war. 

At the war’s end, Czechoslovakia was now the property of the Soviet Union and the USSR was quickly sending in their own troops to secure the borders.  The American soldiers told all the young women that they needed to return to Germany before the Russians arrived, that it would not be safe for them to remain.  Gita, along with all of the other young girls, were placed on the floor of a large US Army transport truck and covered with empty fuel barrels. 

The truck then headed to the German border in a hopeful attempt to out-flank the Russians.  They were not successful and the truck carrying the young girls was met at the border.  The driver insisted he was merely transported empty fuel barrels back into Germany.  The suspicious Russians entered the back of the truck and began bayonetting the barrels, suspecting they might be filled with Germans or Czechs.  Thankfully, the girls being below rather than inside of the barrels escaped the harm intended for them and were not discovered. 

After safely into post-war Germany, the American driver of the truck pulled over and asked the girls where they would like him to take each of them. 

Gita’s father was already dead and her mother was still in Czechoslovakia.  She was now totally alone in the world with no home to which she might return.  She sadly looked at the driver and said, “I’ll just get out here, for me, it’s as good a place as anywhere else.”

As the truck drove away, Gita had to consider her situation and her limited options.  Her beloved country was in ruins, her dreams of being a concert pianist were as untenable as Hitler’s dreams of ruling the world.  She had nothing and no one except her own grit and determination to survive. 

She pulled herself up and began walking to the nearest town. 

Once in the town she looked for the first Catholic church, she being of that faith, and inquired about joining their convent.  She met with the Mother Superior and told her she wished to become a nun, that seeming to be her most viable option for survival. 

The Mother Superior replied, “Have you ten thousand dollars to give us?  If not, we’re sorry, but we have our own problems.  We cannot help you.”

Leaving the convent and with absolutely no where to go, she began roaming the streets.  As if by divine intervention, an American soldier was driving up the street, saw her and stopped.  She looked over at him and recognized him from the camp in Czechoslovakia.  He asked her what she was doing and she told him what had happened since her leaving the camp. 

He told her to get into the jeep and that he would do his best to help her. 

He drove her to the local US Army Base and on to the Officer’s Club.  There he found her work as a pianist in the club.  

She, and her plight, became quite well known amongst the American officers and their wives.  The women were soon donating their used clothing to her and they helped find her an apartment in town. 

Wearing the lovely clothes of the American wives, she said she was often derided by the local Germans as being a prostitute for the American soldiers.  She ignored the vicious attacks and cheerfully continued the little life she had carved out for herself.  She lived her life with gratitude that she was faring as well as she was.  She was living a respectful life and saw no need to allow herself to be pulled down by the nasty criticisms of the local women.    

Over time, she met more people in town, eventually meeting a young German man who had recently graduated from medical school. They fell for each other and began dating. 

They eventually married, but the new doctor was unable to find work in his destroyed homeland. 

They were approached by one of the officers who was familiar with their plight and asked, “Would you consider moving to the US?  I might be able to help you through the red tape. We can find you a sponsor with whom you can live until you get your feet on the ground.”

The young couple jumped at the opportunity, figuring that there was really nothing for them to lose by leaving Germany.  Their first great disappointment upon reaching the US was that his medical education was not transferrable or accepted in the US.  Having already successfully been declared a medical doctor in Germany, it was now necessary for him to return to school.  He thankfully did not have to start at the very beginning, but it did mean that he was unable to work and support the two of them.  So, it was up to Gita to find work.  Being German and often viewed as “the enemy” in the US, there was tremendous bias against her and it was most difficult for her to find any type of job.  Again, not one to make excuses, she took a job as a maid in the local hospital, cleaning toilets, etc., so that they might survive. 

She later was able to use her own education to get a better job as a librarian at the local university. 

When her husband, yet again, finished school, he was offered an internship at Cedars Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles, California.  As a German in a predominately Jewish hospital, he found the environment to be quite challenging, again accepting and working through the biases and prejudices against him.  But just as Gita had done, he sucked it up and simply dealt with the hardships, improving his life rather than wasting time making excuses and blaming others.   

The doctor later became the head of the radiology department at a large, local hospital.  Gita returned to the piano and made quite a name for herself as a teacher.  In the over 20 years that I knew her, I only heard the above story by luck, as she was reticent to tell it to anyone, lest she appear ungrateful.  She never complained, never seemed to feel sorry for herself and appeared to find salvation in hard work and gratitude. 

When I have faced my own daunting challenges in life (yes, even as a white man with supposed privilege) I have often said to myself, “At least I have not been left by the side of the road.”

 

Helena Rubenstein and Elizabeth Arden

Fierce business rivals, Helena and Elizabeth both built cosmetics empires in the early 1900s, making them two of the richest women in the world.   They were entrepreneurs before the word even seemed to exist.  Both had marketing savvy and both overcame obstacles that would certainly cause our woman in the photo above to break down sobbing and throw in the towel. 

The story of these two truly Strong Women can be seen in the documentary The Powder and the Glory which I highly recommend.  Helena founded her first cosmetics salon in 1915 and prior to the Stock Market crash, sold her empire for the modern-day equivalent of $88 million dollars.  After the Great Depression, she bought back her shares for about one-tenth of what she had sold them and once again took control of the empire that bore her name.  She expanded her salons from being only in New York City to cities across the country.  

One of my favorite stories about Helena was that she was unable to purchase a luxury apartment in Manhattan, not because she was a woman, but because she was Jewish.  Undaunted, she investigated the entire apartment building and ended up buying it instead.   Needless to say, she got her apartment. 

Elizabeth Arden was born in Canada in 1884 as the fifth of five children on a farm with parents who struggled to simply put food on the table.  There was no money for luxuries such as fine clothing or cosmetics.  To help support the family, she worked various odd jobs and then went to school to study nursing.  It was during her time with her studies that she became interested in the lotion used for burn victims and how to make her own.   In 1908 she immigrated to New York City where she began work as an assistant to a beautician.  She learned the industry and in 1910, she opened her own salon, located on Fifth Avenue with $1,000 she invested of her own money. 

At this time, cosmetics were primarily associated with prostitutes, not respectable ladies.  Arden began changing that perception with her creative marketing and packaging campaigns.  She became so successful that she branched out into other business ventures including the highly male-dominated sport of horse racing.  One of her horses even won the Kentucky Derby. 

Elizabeth Arden was also a leader in the suffragette movement in the early 1900s, but she was already a wildly successful business woman long before the Constitution was changed, giving women the right to vote.  Again, she didn’t wait for the world to change or for anyone to give her “permission” to succeed. 

Neither woman wallowed in self-pity or victimhood.  Neither waited for someone else or the government to “empower” them.  They walked boldly into the business world and succeeded.  They faced their challenges and limitations in life and triumphed anyway. 

One other interesting thing I see in today’s women’s movement is the lack of success stories, women held up as shining examples.  Instead, the media focuses on women who fail and hold those up as excuses.  Success takes perseverance, struggle, and hard work.  It very rarely simply falls from the sky, except, of course, in fairy tales. 

 

 

Loraine, My Mother

Loraine was born in Wisconsin in 1920 but her family moved shortly thereafter to Waukegan, a suburb of Chicago, Illinois.   Her father was a carpenter who refused to join a union to find work, so their income was quite limited during the Great Depression.  My mother was the second child of what would eventually be five children, three of whom, were girls.

Life was quite hard for the family during the Great Depression.  Their house was quite small and had no running water.  As a young girl, Loraine lost her two front teeth in a minor accident and there was no money to have them replaced.   She went through her childhood and teen years never smiling, with a very unattractive scowl on her face in every photograph taken of her. 

Their house was small with an outhouse in the back.   She shared a bed with her sister and brother that was in the living area of the first floor of the house. 

She did have the advantage of a large, extended, loving Norwegian family and was taught the values of hard work and that feeling sorry for yourself or being jealous or envious of others, was never acceptable.  These same values, she passed down to me.

In high school, her father insisted that all three of his daughters take typing and shorthand so that they would always have a skill that was marketable.  These skills served Loraine quite well through her life.  The thought of someone asking, “What would you like to be when you grow up?” was as much a fantasy as any tale by Aesop.   You worked and you worked hard, period.

Loraine held several jobs after graduating from high school and eventually met Wilma, who would become not only her best friend, but later her sister-in-law when she married Loraine’s brother. 

Loraine suffered horribly from allergies in the Great Lakes region and a doctor advised her to move west to a dryer climate.   She asked Wilma if she would like to go with her and Wilma readily agreed.  The two of them left Chicago, via train, initially for El Paso where the family had contacts. 

Upon reaching El Paso, they learned that there were no jobs in the area.  With few options, they decided to press on to Long Beach, California and the Long Beach ship yards.  This was now during World War II and the shipyards were operating at full capacity building ship after ship for the war effort. 

Both Loraine and Wilma were quickly employed by the shipyard and they began their adventures in Southern California, home of warm, sandy beaches and palm trees. 

The two women carved out an adventurous life for themselves and eventually moved on to live in San Bernardino, California where Loraine worked at Norton Air Force Base.  Loraine was quite attractive with a beautiful, youthful face, a tall stature for a woman of her time, dark hair, and a soft, elegant personality.  It would be difficult for almost any man to ignore this young, single, beauty, but it became rather difficult when she began receiving far too much unwanted attention from her own boss. 

She decided she needed to find a new position and began checking the various posts on the boards on the base.  She found one posting that caught her eye, but realized that it would mean that her entire life would change.  The job was a position in post-war, occupied Germany at a US Air Force base in Wiesbaden. 

She took some time to think it over, but the harassment in her current job became impossible to tolerate.  She contacted human resources and applied for the job in Germany.  With her qualifications, she was quickly accepted for the position and she began making plans to move. 

Keeping in mind that this was around 1949, one did not simply hop on a jet and fly to Germany.  Loraine had to take a train from California to New York, where she then boarded a troop ship headed for Bremerhaven, Germany. 

Upon disembarking in Bremerhaven, she boarded a train for Wiesbaden, several hours south.   Arriving in Wiesbaden, she was told that her room was not yet ready and they made arrangements for her in another hotel in town.  Alone in her room that night, she realized that she was in the red-light district of the town and outside her window she heard bottles and glass breaking as well as the sound of gun shots.  Needless to say, her thoughts drifted to, “What have I done by coming here?” 

The next day her room in the hotel where she would live for the rest of her stay in Europe became available and she did move.  She began work, made friends, and began traveling across Europe, visiting places that had only been part of a movie up to this point. 

She began dating Bill, someone she cared for deeply, who she also shared many common interests.  Bill’s deficit was that he was career military and Loraine knew full well that she did not want to live her life as an Army Officer’s wife.   Despite his overtures, Loraine turned him down. 

It was later she met Harvey, although an officer in the US Air Force, Harvey had no long-term plans in the military.  There were not the same wide range of common interests, but Loraine could see that they shared many common and important goals.  

Harvey proposed to Loraine, but Loraine was enjoying her life in Europe a bit too much to commit to marriage and the inevitable changes it would bring to her life.  She left Harvey waiting on her answer for almost one year. 

They were married in Paris and returned to the US shortly thereafter.  Arriving in New Jersey, they purchased a car and began the long drive from the east coast to California.

They eventually settled in San Bernardino, California.  In 1956, Loraine gave birth to her first son and then in 1958, at the age of 39, I was born.   We lived in a very small house with no air conditioning in a city that reached temperatures as high as 115 degrees in the summer.   Also know that my mother did not drive, so she was basically trapped all day in that hot, little house with my brother and I.

As an adult, I asked my mother about this.   “How could you give up your life of traveling through Europe to be trapped in a small, hot house with two boys who were always fighting and crying?”

“Because it was the life I chose.   I was extremely grateful that I had been able to live in Europe, travel extensively, and lead a life very few women of my time could even dream about.  When you boys were born, that was then the life I chose and I accepted the limitations and difficulties but was always thankful that I had my own children.  No, it wasn’t as glamorous or exciting as living in Europe, but I could always look back and relive in my mind my prior adventures.”

I include my mother in this list because as her life with my father moved forward, I was then old enough to see the difficulties in their lives.  My father was not a bad man, but even he admitted that he had married too far above his station in life, which led to conflicts and frustrations with both of them.   I knew that my mother was often frustrated, but I never heard her complain, she never assumed the mantle of victimhood, and she never seemed envious of others.   In spite of that fact that her life was not perfect, she was very grateful and it was important to her to instill gratitude in her two sons. 

What always amazed me about my mother is that regardless of any storm in her life, she was always a sea of serenity and calm.  Just being near her was like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day.  

My mother never tolerated whining or complaining from her children.  I can still remember as a young boy complaining over something trivial and hearing my mother say to me, “Go put your shoes one.”   I would pause and ask “why?”   “Because I am going to take you to County Hospital.  I want you to meet young boys and girls with no arms or legs and then I want you to tell me how difficult you have it.” 

Gratitude is a characteristic I admire in people and something I too rarely see in many Americans.  Instead of being grateful for what they have, they focus on what they do not, expecting someone else to fill those wants.  

As was true of most of her family, if you were unhappy about something, stay quiet and work harder.  Take responsibility for your choices and mistakes and most importantly, laugh at yourself. 

 

 Harriet Tubman

"You cannot own a child of God."

I will not attempt to write Ms. Tubman’s extraordinary biography in this essay. Just know that she is, in my opinion and without a doubt, the most shining possible example of a truly strong woman. She was a slave in the south with no rights, no protection and very few options yet was known as "The Moses of her People".  

Without any government assistance, in fact, with the government basically working against her and trying to hunt her down, as well as through pure grit and determination, she made her way north. Once there, she contacted an organization that worked to free other southern slaves, running a type of underground railroad. Whereas the organization wanted to move cautiously, Harriet acted boldly, making thirteen risky trips back into the south to bring over seventy slaves to freedom. Harriet had no problem picking up a gun and using it when necessary. In fact, she was the only woman during the civil war to lead an armed expedition of men. 

Please watch the movie Harriett to learn more about this amazing woman or read her own account in the 1886 book Harriet: The Moses of Her People.  Note all of the adversities she rose above. She didn’t wait for the government to pass new laws, she didn’t try to get Constitutional amendments passed before she acted, she didn’t whine and complain about her situation, she instead blazed her own trail in life, accepted the difficulties and rose above them. She accepted the poor hand she was dealt and made the best of it, not only for herself but for others as well.  

She didn’t wait for the world to change to give her what she wanted or what she felt was just, instead she went out and changed the world through her own actions. I have no doubt that Harriett would look upon today’s “feminist” with their cornucopia of rights, privileges and opportunities and be quite disappointed by their constant whining and complaining and especially their lack of action.  

 

Abigail Adams

Another amazingly strong, determined woman in American History.  Yes, she was the wife of the second President of the United States, but if any woman earned that position, it was Abigail. 

As her husband worked with the other founding fathers of this great country and was often gone for months or years at a time, Abigail was left to raise their six children and to run and work their farm.  She was also alone on the farm during the Revolutionary War.  While he was gone, she faced smallpox in her family and had to alone make difficult decisions as to how they would protect themselves and move forward.  

Her thoughts and views on the founding of the United States and its type of government are well documented in the numerous letters she sent to John Adams while he was in Philadelphia.  Abigail was no intellectual light-weight, she was a woman of tremendous vision and with high ideals.  Interestingly, Abigail received no formal education, she was primarily self-taught. 

Abigail was probably the first true leader of the women’s movement in the United States, her letters showed great interest in women’s rights in the late 18^th century. 

Even upon becoming the First Lady of the US, she faced daunting challenges in the public’s view of her husband, his own self-doubts about himself, and the fact that the White House was still under construction when they moved in.  

She lived through the highs of her son, John Quincy Adams, also becoming President of the United States and the lows of losing a son to alcoholism.  Each success seemed to also be met with tragedy, yet this strong woman persevered and overcame the challenges presented to her. 

As you read through her biographies, she is always portrayed as a lovely, gracious woman.  I am quite certain she never saw herself as a victim of anything except possibly overwhelming opportunity.

As with Harriett Tubman, Abagail’s life it worth reading about further or watching the movie John Adams to get a better look into the details of the strong, determined, and tenacious woman.   

 

The following women have lived most of their lives in the post-women’s movement America, yet I see their success coming from their own determination as opposed to the government granting them some sort of permission.  They looked beyond the challenges in their lives and beyond to the possibilities. 

 

Mrs. Nguyen

I met Mrs. Nguyen, the mother of a friend, during the night of the November 1996 election returns.  It was during this election that the Republican party surprisingly took control of both the House of Representatives and the Senate during the Clinton presidency. 

As democrats would comment on the returns and what it might mean in Washington, D.C. Mrs. Nguyen could no longer remain silent.  “I’ve lived in the United States for about 30 years.  Every promise made by democrats is exactly the same empty promises made by the communists in Vietnam.   I cannot vote for a democrat because I do not want to see this great country destroyed the same way that my country was destroyed.”

I asked her to tell me more about her life and her leaving Vietnam. 

“We were quite well off before the war, the type of family others envied.  My husband had found success in his life and we lived well and we had eight children together.  The war came and our country was all but destroyed.   My chauffeur would often brag to me about how good his life was going to be under the communists.  He thought he would not have to work as hard and he would have a more comfortable life.  Of course, I just sat there and smiled at him, knowing that he was trading his soul for a far more difficult life than he currently lived. 

Shortly after the war ended, the communists came and arrested my husband on a false charge and took him away.  I was left with my home and my eight children, not knowing if I would ever see my husband again. 

I did my best to maintain normalcy in our lives, but the changes happening under the communist regime were far too sweeping and I knew that for the safety and security of my family, we would have to escape the country. 

I sold what I could without attracting too much attention and began looking for someone who could smuggle us out of Vietnam.   One day while I was in town, I ran into my old chauffeur and ask him if his life was now better.  He looked at me sadly and said, “No, my life is worse.  I work harder now for even less money.  I want things to be the way they used to be.”   Again, all I could do was smile and shake my head. 

 I finally made contact with someone who told me they could get me and my children out of Vietnam.  The price was quite high, but, at that point, I felt I had no other options and that the risk and cost was worth it.  So, I paid the man the money and was told to bring my family down to the beach at midnight and to pack lightly.

We did as we were instructed, bringing as much cash as I had put together, knowing there would be additional bribes I would need to pay along the way.  

With much trepidation, I took my children down to the beach and waited at midnight.  A small boat did find us and we all got in.  That boat took us further out into the ocean where we met up with a larger boat, filled with other refugees also attempting their escape from the nightmare of communism. 

On the boat we were told that we were being taken to the Philippines to a refugee camp.  Each day and night on the boat I did my best to protect myself and my children from those looking to profit from our misery.  I was successful in physically protecting my children, but my money, all that I had, was either stolen or used to pay bribes. 

We did eventually arrive in the United States, none of us speaking English or even being familiar with the culture and the traditions.  Clearly, we did not look or act as Americans.   I made it clear to my children that only success was accepted and that it was now their task to each contribute to the support of the family.

All of her children excelled in school and all but one got their college degree.  Amongst her children she had a doctor, a lawyer, and several small business owners.  Each one owned their own house and each contributed and supported their mother. 

Again, as with every story above, Mrs. Nguyen had the opportunity to give thousands of excuses as to why she and her children could not succeed in this country.  Instead of following that path, she set the bar high for her family, she expected success in her children and they all rose to the challenge. 

As an immigrant and war refugee, Mrs. Nguyen overcame far greater struggles than almost ANY woman born and raised in the US in the latter part of the 20^th Century, yet she succeeded when so many born into this system fail.  The opportunities lay before them, yet they find excuses rather than reaching down inside of themselves and moving forward. 

It was quite the honor meeting Mrs. Nguyen and hearing her story.  I wish I could have gotten it all on video. 

 

Elizabeth, my cousin

For my final profile I’d like to once again return to my own family and tell you about my beautiful and amazing cousin Elizabeth.  Elizabeth is six months younger than me but we grew up together and remained close as we continued through school.  As we finished high school and went on to college, our communication increased with letters back and forth.  Elizabeth is extremely intelligent and hard-working and also happens to be quite beautiful.  I doubt that she ever really even noticed many obstacles in her life, she was simply too busy moving forward to pay attention to the noise and chatter around her.  

While in college she met a young man and they fell in love.  He would be graduating soon and planned to accept a job in Canada where he would teach.   They would marry before he moved and then she would join him in Canada after she graduated.    

What those of us in the family did not know, was that her husband-to-be was a world-class mountain climber, holding several records around the world.   After graduating from college, he did move to Canada and took a day to climb solo (as was his wont) up one of the more treacherous mountains in his Provence.  The day did not end well.  A piton was not fully tapped into the rock, it gave way and he plummeted 3,000 feet to his death. 

It was a shock to the entire family and I can still remember that phone call from my mother telling me the horrible news. 

My cousin gathered herself, refocused and returned to college to complete her education.  I cannot imagine the pain and suffering she endured, but she continued on with her life. 

Nearing the end of her own education, she met another young man and they too fell in love.   After their graduations, they were married and set out on quite the adventure for their lives.  He tried a couple of different jobs, but went back to his roots in construction and they eventually settled in a small community on the Central Coast of California. 

After having four beautiful girls (at the time, ranging in ages from 3 to 8 years old), Elizabeth’s husband was at a construction site when there was an accident and he too was killed.  

At the young age of only about 35, she had been effectively widowed twice and was now left with four young children to raise on her own.  

I cannot begin to tell you what fine men both of these two were.  It is sad to lose anyone in our lives, but somehow even more tragic when they are such stellar examples of being good men and good Christians.  It was especially sad to me that these four girls did not have this wonderful man in their lives for the various stages in their growth and maturity.  Yet, they did not seem to suffer. 

Again, she had every reason to give up, throw in the towel, or even just complain about how her “plans” were ruined.  But then, that is not my cousin’s makeup.  She didn’t have simply an attitude, she had principles and determination.  

She asked for help from close friends to take control of her husband’s construction company and bring it to a close.  She got her finances together, brought order and discipline to the lives of her girls, letting them know that they would all have to work together and contribute if they were all to stay together. 

My cousin chose to home school her four girls, which she did herself, not looking to outsource this important task to anyone else.  

Her four beautiful daughters are all adults now, two are married and the other two have careers.  They are the most beautiful, well-educated, gracious, thankful and grateful women I know.   All five have good reasons to be resentful and to give excuses for anything wrong in their lives, but like their mother, they continue to blaze forward in life, not wasting time blaming others, God, their fate, etc. 

I cannot say enough good about my cousin, I cannot tell you how much pride swells into my chest when I see her.   She is the model of poise and grace along with a healthy dose of hard-core persistence and tenacity.   When I think of a strong woman, Elizabeth is the first woman of which I tend to think. 

 

 

In Conclusion

 

There are many more profiles and biographies I considered for this essay, such as Helen Keller, but these are the ones upon which I finally settled.  I think they make my point for me quite clearly.  You can live a life of action, or one of excuses.   The life of excuses is usual filled with bitterness and anger at life’s missed opportunities. 

One nebulous word that is constantly thrown around by various groups is “empowerment.”  Everyone wants this seemingly elusive quality.  No one but the individual can empower themselves.  Sadly, it is ONLY the individual that possess the power to accomplish this.  Instead of looking to themselves, too many seek this goal through their identification with various groups.  The one thing these many groups have in common is victimhood.  Once you identify as a victim, you are nothing more than a victim.  In identifying with any of these groups, instead of as an individual, you have already surrendered your power to the group with which you identify. 

Real empowerment requires real self-responsibility.   You cannot deflect your mistakes nor your achievements onto others.  You must own both of them and move forward.  Yes, your plans will necessarily change, but that is called being an adult.  

Note that none of these women looked for someone else to “empower” them.  They each reached deep inside themselves and triumphed over adversity.  The only true empowerment is what we choose for ourselves and it is already inside each of us, both women and men. 

Some will clearly read these stories and focus on what they see as injustices, while others will be inspired and encouraged by the indomitable and undefeatable spirits of these women. They will hopefully realize that challenges in life are experienced by all people, regardless of sex or race.  We all experience challenges, but it is our own resolve and our own reliance in ourselves that can lead us to become defeated or to triumph over adversity.   

Am I “intimidated” by Strong Women?  Hardly; I am dazzled and inspired by them, I hold them up as beacons in the night, as rich examples for others to learn from and to emulate. 

In writing these profiles, I am reminded of Medea from Jason and the Argonauts:

"The Oracle comes to Medea and says....  Medea, what is left?  Everything is destroyed, everything is gone....'  Medea says "what is left?..... there is me.  What do you mean, what is left?...Everything is left....I am left.'

 Everything is Left.  I am left!