Women in Construction

Women Working in Construction in Chile (and I´m sure in the rest of the world)
I work in construction. I am a woman.

In Chile those two sentences are just fine…that is as long as they remain separated. Problems start to come up when the two sentences are mixed.
I am a woman, and I work in construction. Here that just doesn´t work. People don´t know what do about you. In the few weeks that I have been working on this project I have seen and heard it all. I have experienced the good, the bad and the ugly (most of the time it is the bad and ugly that I get). I have been observant and have come up with a thesis: people, particularly men, go through the seven stages of grief when they find out that I am working in construction.
Stage 1: Shock and Denial

NO ONE believes that I am really leading the project in Catemu or that I actually get my hands dirty.

Christian DOES NOT work with me in Catemu EVER. I do everything. I show up, I work, I buy materials, I solve all the many problems that come up, and I deal with workers and volunteers. I am not complaining, on the contrary, this is my project and I like that he stays out of my way, however every man in Catemu (including the workers who never see or hear from Christian) insists on calling him the boss. I get a phone call and my workers ask me ¨was that the boss, what did the boss have to say¨. It doesn´t stop there, representatives from the regional government came to see the project, and they all told me to give their card to Christian.

Stage 2: Pain and Guilt:

Man feel bad after they have been blatant sexist pigs to you, and then see you doing hard physical labor.
Last week when I was walking to work a group of construction workers that were sitting next to the house I am building and whistled and hissed at me as I passed. I ignored them, walked into the house to get my gloves and wheel barrel and came out to haul stone from across the street to the house. After they picked their jaws up from the floor, they came running over to me telling me that I had to let them help me, I couldn´t possibly haul that all by myself.

Stage 3: Anger

In the last two stages I am tolerated, but once they realize that I am here to stay and on top of that they realize I am their boss, it is more than they can take.
Last Friday my two paid workers came back late from lunch. I talked to them both and said that it was unacceptable and it couldn´t happen again.
Today I went to drop off the plans and the schedule for the week and my worker yelled at me and said that I wasn´t to talk to his assistant like that and he will work as he likes. He told me that I was not to get involved in the way he worked.
Stage 3: Depression, Reflection and Loneliness
Believe it or not, I like stage 3. It leads me to stage four where finally all the buffoons realize what is what.
After my employee got all his anger out, I looked at him baffled and confused and said ¨ I don´t care what you think¨. I told him, he could finish the project on time and correctly or I wasn´t going to pay him a dime. I also said that if his little assistant wanted to tell on my again, I would fire his ass so fast that he would have whiplash.
He agreed to all of my terms related to this job, and then I left him alone with his beer to sit and think about what he did in his filthy house.

Stages 5, 6 &7 The Upward Turn, Working Though It, and finally Acceptance and Hope

I group these stages together, because sadly some people never get there. It is true, there are few men that stop feeling frustrated a woman has entered into their domain and changed it forever. They will always be sad that they can´t pee on the side of the building while they work, swear , talk about the penises and worst of all whistle at girls as they walk by.

Lets take a moment of silence for all that they have lost……

For some people, Stage 7 does come but not how I would have expected. Yesterday someone selling table cloths door to door came to the neighborhood while we were standing outside. He offered his product to every house on the block. When it came time for him to knock on our door, he looked at Don Guillermo´s house and just walked by. Guillermo told me that it happened all the time. He said that politicians look at his house and turn away without asking for his vote. Once he applied for a small business loan provided by the government to help poor business owners. The person he talked to told him that it was impossible that he would succeed in his business and denied him.

I almost started crying when he said it, not because I felt sorry for him, but because when he told me these stories with so much anger and sorrow, I realized that he and I are the EXACT same. People who don´t fit the mold because they are poor, women, gay, of a different race, speak a different language, are immigrants, or whatever all go through the same thing. No one (and I mean NO ONE) cares what I have to say. Most of the time they don´t even believe that what I say about my experiences are true. For instance, a Chilean man reading this would say, it isn´t like that here, stop being a baby. There are my Fing experiences, don´t you tell me what they are like.

Guillermo goes through the same thing because he is poor. Together Guillermo and I walked together into stage 7. I think it is a good place to be.

Disclaimer: Remember it is not only in Chile or Latin American countries that men don´t give craps about what women have to say. Machismo is alive and well in the USA, but we call it sexism. Don´t believe me, how many women have you seen working in construction lately?

Told you.