Leading With Audacity
The efforts of these women teach others how to push through barriers to achieve great things for themselves and the communities they serve.
by Leigh Ann Stuart, Debra Wallace, and Bill Donahue

“I used to walk down the street like I was a superstar. … I want people to walk around delusional about how great they can be—and then to fight so hard for it every day that the lie becomes the truth.” So said Lady Gaga, a self-described misfit who went on to become one of the most colorful and successful entertainers of her time.
 
Just about everyone on the planet has wrestled with intrusive thoughts suggesting they are not good enough or smart enough, that some avenues cannot or should not be pursued, that greatness is meant for other people. Sometimes the negativity comes from external sources, from the people around us who want us to behave and stay small. 
 
The leading women featured on the following pages surely have faced those obstacles, too, yet they pushed past them to accomplish greatness for themselves and their respective communities. 

 

A Lasting Impression
Anne Corso builds community by fostering connections to art and ideas.
 
Anne Corso sparked her fondness for the visual arts as a little girl, rejoicing in Sunday visits to the Philadelphia Museum of Art with her mom. 
 
“I knew as a little girl that I wanted to work at an art museum,” shares Corso, executive director and CEO of the Michener Art Museum in Doylestown. “Of course, I didn’t know exactly what they meant; you figure that out along the way.”
 
That “way” included art history studies at Rosemont College and later, a master’s degree in museum education from the University of the Arts. She began her career as a museum educator at the Delaware Art Museum in Wilmington, running the studio program there and eventually moving into the director of education position. 
 
She then spent several years as the director of education at the Reading Public Museum in Berks County. One of the “transformational moments” in her career came when she was asked to become the director of education at The Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk, Virginia. After nearly a decade in Norfolk, during which she had the privilege of being part of the “renovation and reinterpretation” of that museum, she headed north to become executive director of the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester. Interestingly, a group of artists established a permanent base in Manchester in the early 1950s, giving rise to the center. Manchester then came into prominence as an art colony, “not entirely unlike the art colony of Bucks County and New Hope,” Corso notes.
 
Her next move brought her back home, to helm the Michener. While each career stop along her way has a unique history and relationship with its community, Corso sees the common thread as community connection. 
 
“That [connection] I have found to be really powerful and resonant for me,” Corso says. “The Michener came to be because of a group of dedicated philanthropists and collectors in the Bucks County community. I think it’s incumbent on those institutions to serve their community, to give back to their community, to expose their community to new and unique kinds of art while celebrating the legacy of the art that is really part of their DNA.” 
 
Corso believes programming should reflect the area’s vast and varied interests and demographics. 
 
“You might come with your children or your grandchildren to visit the Eric Carle exhibition, really focusing on family learning, and another day, you might come to one of the public talks and have a very sort of directed learning experience,” she adds. “You might come for the social aspect and meet your friends for a cappuccino and sit out on the back terrace, or you might come for a musical event or performance. No one of those types of experiences is better or more important than the other.”
 
Like interpreting art itself, museum experiences are unique to each visitor. That’s a great thing, according to Corso.
 
“You can find your own meaning and you can sort of choose your own adventure, so to speak,” she adds. “You can interpret artwork the way that you want. You can understand the artist’s message if you choose to, you can engage with it personally in a way the artist might not even know or be able to understand. You can have a social experience. Ideally, it gives you a chance to look more closely at a work of art, and hopefully at yourself. 
 
“What we try to do at the Michener,” she continues, “and what many art museums—particularly ones that are rooted in their community—are trying to do is be relevant to the widest swath of their community, knowing that visitors come in different shapes and sizes and have different needs depending on their situation. What the art museum allows you as the visitor to do is connect with an artist, connect with ideas, that you don’t always have the opportunity to in everyday life.” —LAS 

 

Preserving the Past, Shaping the Future
Vashti DuBois honors the stories, experiences, and history of Black women and girls.

 
The preservation of culture—heritage, growth, pain, innovation, and heroism—is a debt humanity owes itself; yet, as witnesses to history’s events cannot themselves live indefinitely, it is the work of a heroic few to guard and preserve the legacy of lived experience from one generation to the next. Vashti DuBois, founder of The Colored Girls Museum in Philadelphia’s Germantown neighborhood, is one such steward. 
 
The Colored Girls Museum is a “memoir museum” dedicated to honoring “the stories, experiences, and history of the ordinary colored girl.” Since its founding in 2015, The Colored Girls Museum has served as a space to gather and foster community, as well as a place for exhibiting artifacts to preserve the collective memory of Black women, girls, and gender-expansive individuals.
 
“The Colored Girls Museum began as a show in the Philadelphia Fringe Festival in 2015,” Dubois begins. “It told the story of an ordinary house that wanted to dress up as a Colored Girls Museum. The house invited friends, fellow artists, and colleagues to help transform the three-story Victorian building into what is now known as The Colored Girls Museum.”
 
Dubois wanted to create a space to focus on the stories of Black women and girls, “especially ordinary Black women and girls,” as she was unaware of any such space existing at the time. To this end, she invited several artists, colleagues, and friends to submit art or objects that were significant to their experiences.
 
“They contributed to each room of the three-story Victorian twin,” she says. “After the conclusion of the Fringe show, many people continued to reach out about visiting The Colored Girls Museum, prompting us to remain open.” 
 
The word colored in the museum’s name does not refer to the term’s use in segregating people of African descent in America. Instead, DuBois uses the word to draw attention to the experience of being marked by others, or “colored upon.” 
 
“I use the word colored to evoke a feeling,” she says. “What does it feel like to color something? What might it feel like to be colored upon? This relates to the assumptions made about Black women and girls and what it feels like to be a girl who is colored—marked by how others perceive her. Often, this perception has little to do with how we see ourselves.
 
“I also think people forget what a word means,” she says. “This use of the word forces us to ask ourselves, ‘What do we mean, what [do] we really understand ourselves to be communicating when we say colored?
 
“This relates to the assumptions made about Black women and girls and what it feels like to be a girl who is colored—marked by how others perceive her,” she continues. “Often, this perception has little to do with how we see ourselves.”
 
Within its walls, the museum confronts and challenges the notion that history exists only in the past.
 
“Its dynamic and immersive nature recognizes that time is not linear,” DuBois notes. “The future, past, and present are always commingling and existing together, challenging us to redefine our understanding of time. Defining it strictly as a time capsule would flatten it; we would lose out on the nuance and complexity of the work.”
 
The Colored Girls Museum also has a traveling version of itself. The mobile museum journeys to different states to bring the experience to other places with the goal of creating a network of communities, artists, and institutions to serve as safe spaces. 
 
“I started this experience and have continued it because I realized it fulfills a need, which is why so many people keep coming back and asking about it,” she says. “However, I did not set out to create a museum in my home. Even now I like to say that I think the museum was there in 4613 Newhall Street when our family moved into the home; the house was just waiting for us to notice her and create space for her to do this.
 
“Everyone’s story matters,” she continues. “I am passionate about sharing this story because it is a critical piece of this tapestry called the human experience.” —LAS 

 

Ride On
Deborah Leedale-Brown teaches (and learns) resilience through competition and perpetual motion. 

 
Deborah Leedale-Brown spent the early part of her career coaching some of the world’s most elite athletes—namely, Olympians on Great Britain’s diving and cycling teams. She has since become an elite athlete in her own right. In addition, she uses her passion for athletics and physical activity to enrich the lives of the next generation.
 
Leedale-Brown teaches middle school physical education and wellness at AIM Academy, a college-preparatory school in Conshohocken for students with learning differences. She’s also the biking coordinator and head coach of the school’s varsity mountain-biking team. 
 
“I cycled as a kid and rode bikes in England, but I didn’t do it at a high level,” says Leedale-Brown, a U.K. native who moved to the Philadelphia area in 2013. “When I came over to the States, not knowing anybody, I got into the mountain-biking scene. … I started to race and found that I was pretty good at it.” 
 
She’s being humble. Leedale-Brown has taken the podium in several prominent races throughout her career, including the Tour of Somerville and the Mohican MTB 100. She also enjoyed a Pennsylvania State Championship reign and received Elite Women’s Rider of the Year (2018) honors from the Pennsylvania Cycling Association. 
 
“Any sport is tough at a high level,” says Leedale-Brown, who lives in Kennett Square. “I have done 100-mile races, 24-hour races. The personality I am, if someone tells me I can’t do something, I’m going to prove that I can. Competing has taught me resilience, toughness. I’m not failing if I’m out there doing it.”
 
Leedale-Brown seems more excited to talk about the accomplishments of AIM Academy’s mountain-biking team. She’s always thrilled to see team members thrive, of course, but mostly she wants them to improve upon their skills, take lessons from their successes and failures alike, and, above all, find joy in their efforts.
 
She takes a similar approach to her work as a PE teacher. 
 
“I’m the sort of person who never stops learning,” she says. “I’ve coached Olympians, and I’ve been to two Olympic Games. I’m honored to come in to teach this population of students. These kids [at AIM] are dealing with a lot; with a lot of kids who have learning differences, there’s some anxiety. When I was at school, I loved physical education. … I want to try and create an environment of engagement, where students can feel comfortable and connect to a lifetime of activity.” 
 
Leedale-Brown has been a good model; she continues to ride and compete at a high level as a member of the 50-plus age group. Although she has done her share of road races, she feels more connected to mountain biking because it “takes you to places off the beaten track.” Being close to the natural world—the wind, the trees, the soil—provides “the best form of therapy.”
 
Her approach to life seem to have rubbed off on her son, Oliver, a NCAA D1 athlete who recently played his final lacrosse game for Wagner College in Staten Island, New York.
 
“He came to so many of my races,” she says. “He said to me not long ago, ‘I watched you push yourself, crash, win races, lose.’ I think him seeing me do that taught him that doing something difficult, even if it’s big and scary, can change your life in a positive way.”
 
While she continues to compete, she also makes time for “the simple things in life”: hiking, reading, yoga, cooking, dining out, etc. She’s also a private coach for athletes from around the country; she particularly enjoys helping other women hone their skills in mountain biking, which remains a largely male-dominated sport. 
 
“Life is fairly busy, and I’m on my feet constantly,” she adds. “On Sunday I’ll do a ride, but weekend riding is for relaxation.”  —BD

 

Breaking New Ground
Dr. Wendy Ross opens doors for families with neurodivergent children.

 
For nearly 25 years, Wendy J. Ross, M.D., has been quietly transforming the lives of families navigating autism. The bold, creative programs she has devised—from sensory-friendly sports experiences to mock airport flights—have helped open doors to experiences that once felt out of reach for families with neurodivergent children.
 
A developmental pediatrician at The Jefferson Center for Autism and Neurodiversity since 2019, Dr. Ross centers her clinical work on supporting children with developmental differences by integrating medical, educational, social, and therapeutic care. Over the years, her out-of-the-box thinking has created a series of groundbreaking initiatives aimed at improving life for autistic children and their families.  
 
In 2011, Dr. Ross founded Autism Inclusion Resources, an organization focused on improving accessibility in everyday spaces for individuals with autism. She partnered with multiple airlines to create mock airport and flight experiences that allow families to practice traveling before a real trip to overcome fears of air travel. The initiative helped inspire what is now the TSA Cares program, which assists travelers with autism and other disabilities in navigating airport security and check-in procedures more comfortably.
 
In 2014, she expanded her efforts into the sports world, launching autism-inclusion programs, first with the Philadelphia Phillies and later with the Eagles, Flyers, and 76ers. Groundbreaking game-day initiatives included visual guides to explain the stadium experience, while venues added sensory escape spaces and trained staff to better support neurodivergent guests. If families needed clinical support, she made it happen.  
 
“I think these programs had a major cultural impact,” Dr. Ross says. “The focus was more on belonging instead of just inclusion.”
 
In her medical practice, Dr. Ross helps families navigate the emotional and logistical challenges of a new and ongoing autism diagnosis. When parents come to her after a child has received a diagnosis, Dr. Ross focuses on empowerment. She regularly communicates with teachers, therapists, and other professionals involved in a child’s care to monitor progress through approaches both creative and traditional.
 
The Jefferson Center for Autism and Neurodiversity collaborates with multiple departments across Thomas Jefferson University, including the College of Architecture & the Built Environment; design and health students come together with community members to think about the neurodivergent population while working in interdisciplinary teams.
 
Dr. Ross’s expertise also brought her into the entertainment world. She served as a technical advisor for The Pitt, the award-winning medical drama now in its second season, which features several neurodivergent characters. In 2024, before the HBO series even had a name, Dr. Ross was contacted by The Norman Lear Center at the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism, which connects television productions with a variety of experts.  
 
“They told me there was a new ER-based show featuring a bright autistic doctor,” Dr. Ross recalls. “But they didn’t want the stereotypical savant portrayal.” This doctor became the character Melissa “Mel” King, played by Taylor Dearden.
 
During her first Zoom meeting with the writers and producers, she noticed a familiar face: Noah Wylie, a lead actor and executive producer of The Pitt. “As a major admirer of his earlier series, ER, this was exciting and a bit surreal,” she says.
 
In Season 1, Episode 7, a scene features a patient with autism being treated in the ER. Dr. King steps in to help another doctor guide the care by successfully using strategies that make the environment more comfortable for the patient—dimming lights, lowering blinds, and adjusting the communication approaches. Dr. Ross says those are the same strategies she teaches to Jefferson Health’s emergency medicine staff. 
 
“I’m not asking doctors and nurses to become experts,” she explains. “I’m simply asking them to keep autism on their radar—and above all, to be kind. … Sometimes you’re having a terrible day, and everything feels overwhelming. But if someone is kind to you, it can completely change how you feel.” —DW
 
Photo courtesy of Deborah Leedale-Brown
 
Published (and copyrighted) in Suburban Life, May 2026.