I grew up thinking I could be anything. I didn't realize that the cost of being the lone woman on the jobsite would be this high.
"The same operator asked if I wanted to see his below-the-belt piercing again" I complain to my two coworkers as I collapse into the construction trailer. Harassment is nothing new, but this guy is particularly persistent.
The men exchange uneasy glances and one tactfully asks me if I had done something to make him think I was interested. I don't even have the energy to muster up rage- years of working with men has made me immune to the insinuations. I work as a process engineer in a design and construction firm. Half my time is spent in an office with self-inflated, soft engineers who don't even notice that they are being offensive. The head of the office often tells me to smile as I'm going about my day.
The first time was after a meeting where the client asked for someone with more experiance without ever seeing my resume. They heard my young, effeminate voice on the phone and assumed I wouldn't be able to handle a construction site. I had designed the entire production line they were so excited to install- but a coworker who had just started was requested to oversee the install.
I walked out of the meeting crushed and ran smack into the office manager.
"Smile!" he told me with a jolly wink and continued down the hall. My blood boiled- I stormed back to my desk and wasted time writing and deleting an email correcting his behavior. He was my boss's boss and I wanted to succeed here, so I swallowed my pride. Now when he tells me to smile I arrange my face into a well-practiced mask and only feel a dull ache where my self-worth once was.
The half of my time not spent in the office is spent on a construction site. I have learned more about myself and the world there than my overpriced engineering degree could have ever taught me. The world encompasses more than you can ever comprehend. I have met men larger than life-a concrete guy whose face is covered in more prison tattoos than visable skin. The lines crossing his face are the drawings his daughter sent him while he was locked up and trying to get clean. Everytime he wanted to use he got a drawing tattooed instead. He disappeared halfway through the project- his buddy told me he relapsed.
The devout Guatemalan electrician who was convinced God was punishing him because he continued to have daughters instead of a son. He and most of his crew disappeared the day after Trump won. My crew from North Carolina were late that day too, but they were hung over from celebrating too hard. They were happy to see my Guatemalan crew had ghosted- it was proof that Trump was already making America great again.
The only thing all the contractors had in common was a general distaste for me. The working class, the immigrants, the skilled and unskilled labors did not enjoy having a 5'3" woman telling then what to do. Every job was the same- they were excited to see someone young and female until they realized they couldn't flirt, bark, or bully me to get their way. That was when the harrassment set in.
I learned to walk with my feet apart to diminish the sway of my hips, I dressed as masculine as possible, and wore a binder to make it easier for the men to meet my eye. I ignored the pointed stares at my ass and the cunt or dyke writings on the port-a-potty walls. I walked the line with more or less success between managing and bonding with the men who leave behind their families to come build the facilities I design.
These men I understand. They are honest about who they are. They will never respect me, but they will listen because that was the job they were hired to do. They will test me daily- some days I pass and some days I fail. We understand each other and pass the time telling stories that I will never know if they make up to shock me or if it shocks me because it is so removed from the life i live. I confuse and fascinate them as well. The women they know are happy to stay home and raise the children. The earnest ones tell me that I'm not that ugly and that I can still find someone. The other engineers onsite onsite choke with laughter every time, forgetting quickly how they reacted the first time they saw me onsite.
When I'm in the office my entire demeanor softens, so i can always pick up on the confused glances and different attitude onsite. I change who I am to fit the expectations of the men around me. I break myself in half trying to prove I am as good as the boys. I understand the lack of respect from a man who finishes everyday dripping in sweat with the physical proof of what he accomplished sitting in front of him. It's the lack of respect from the clients and coworkers that drive me insane.
There is client who starts every meeting with "Hello gentlemen" after months of working with him. The client who offered my coworker a job and jokingly told me I could have one in the HR department after I worked 26 hours straight to troubleshoot startup issues. The manager who told me he can't hire too many women because everyone will get pregnant together and he can't have that many people out of the office.
Everyday I am told in actions that i don't measure up and everyday i get closer to believing them.
I work most weekends. I work long days that turn into long nights. My closest friend is the person at the front desk of whatever hotel I'm at that month. When the women were marching all over the world I was at work. At some point that day an operator pretended to slip and grabbed me. He flashed a knowing smile that showed he had lost more teeth that he had left. I gently detangled myself from his roaming hands and walked away without a word. Being "grabb[ed] by the pussy" is not a vulgar phrase that my president once said- it's something that has happened to me at work.
I'm not sure anymore that by showing up and busting ass everyday if I'm fighting the patriarchy or feeding it. All I know is that equality is a myth.
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