On Being Intrepid
From foster care to the forests of Kenya, Robin Rosenbluth shares her search for freedom and belonging.
Intrepid is a word I once wore like a badge as I slung an orange backpack over my shoulders to travel to countries I never thought I’d see. I was a college student, spreading my wings for the first time. No longer a ward of New York State in foster care, I stepped away from a time when I had no control over where I could live. I longed to leave the state, even the country, something I was forbidden to do as a foster teen. I felt the exhilaration of placing my feet on the airport line, twisting my way through the barricades, knowing that I would soon deplane in a new place—somewhere I chose after twirling a globe on its axis and deciding to be bold. Something I had dreamed about but never thought would come true.
In 1971, I landed in Denmark, my first international stop as a student at a global experimental college. I didn’t speak the language—in fact, I’d never even heard it spoken—but I wasn’t worried. During my three months there, I learned enough to get by, and then again, during my nine months in Italy. Language was only one of the many lessons I gained from living in cultures different from my own. I came to understand that there were many ways to live, eat, work, and connect with people, no matter their country of origin, race, or religion.
A year later, still a college student, my journey led me to the forests of northern Kenya. I must have tapped an inner strength that guided me to choose to live in a Rendille village, also home to the Samburu tribe. How could I leave my home country, carry everything I needed for a year, and not truly know if or how I would find my way in a distant land? Looking back, I wonder how I could have believed I’d find a place where I belonged after experiencing one abandonment after another.
The year I spent living in Kenya was life-changing. Physically, it was challenging, with no running water, electricity, or toilets, but emotionally, it was transformative as I formed deep emotional bonds with people who came to care about me more than any of my many guardians had throughout my teens. During that year of teaching elementary school, I formed deep friendships and found a surrogate mother in a Rendille woman who gave me the first parental affection I’d had since my mother died when I was eight. Yearning for a mother’s love is something we carry with us for a lifetime if we haven’t been among those lucky enough to have such affection.
What traces of resilience remained hidden beneath the layers of insecurity that suffocated me in my youth? The path to self-acceptance was long, as I battled the toxic insults from my father, the inability to be a good parent figure to my young sister when I was 11, and the loss of the only parent remaining. After my father sent us to live with strangers in foster care, I had custodial care from foster parents who cared more about the money they received than the two children they took into their home. I knew there had to be kinder people, and I was determined to find them.
Being intrepid was like trying on high-heeled shoes for the first time and learning not to waver or fall. Being intrepid allowed me to taste foods I’d never have dared to try—foods I hadn’t even known existed. Being intrepid gave me the confidence I needed to learn new languages. Being intrepid guided me to a deeper understanding: a new inner strength, a brighter horizon, and a new level of self-awareness, enabling me to become the lovable person I’d almost lost, to find out who I was, and to discover what I am worth.
Robin Rosenbluth is a former foster teen who now advocates for finding permanent homes for older foster youth. She is the author of the memoir, Living With Strangers: Healing a Wounded Heart in a Distant Land, available now. She worked in the nonprofit sector in New York, raising funds for museums, women’s organizations, healthcare, and environmental causes, and taught fundraising at New York University and Columbia University. She writes on Substack at My Jagged Journey as a Debut Writer. Robin and her wife have raised two children who now have families of their own. She lives in Brooklyn, New York. Learn more at robinrosenbluth.com.
Images courtesy of the author.
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