construction

When I was in high school I received one of the greatest gifts possible--a job that I desperately didn't want to make into a career.  The summer I turned sixteen I was having trouble finding places that would hire someone my age, and so a contractor friend of the family offered me a job on his crew.  I learned a lot from the experience, as I worked there the next three summers, but frankly most of it had to do with how I was not well-suited to working in construction.

The primary lesson regarding my incompatibility with construction had to do with the fact that didn't, and I still don't, do well working in the elements.  I recall one specific roof that we worked on on a day that was closer to 110 °F than 100 °F.  The sun was unrelenting, and it sapped the energy from the body as we did anything.  One of the guys in the crew who took a lot of pride in his work ethic got wobbly at one point, and had to take a long break in the shade on the ground.  It was impossible to do anything for more than a couple of minutes without downing a huge gulp of water, because we were sweating it out faster than it could be drunk.  I distinctly remember riding home from that job thinking that I clearly cannot do this for the rest of my life.

As bad as hot days were, the cold days were worse.  We didn't work many cold days, but I would help on random jobs in the spring or autumn.  I remember siding a house on a breezy October day wondering why anyone would put themselves through that.  At some point I couldn't reliably use my hands because they were too numb.  I cannot imagine how someone working construction outside on a winter day must feel.

I think about these situations a lot on days that are very hot or cold.  I am fortunate to have the opportunity to work in an office setting with a controlled climate.  That fact alone is worth the effort and expense I put into my education, and I am fortunate enough to know that I am fortunate.

A secondary lesson I received from that job was the fact that I realized that I am a klutz.  I have to have a job away from dangerous equipment, because otherwise I'll eventually hurt myself or someone else badly.  In the short time I was there I was able to observe that I got more cuts and bruises than the rest of the crew.  I have at least one scar from that period of time in my life, and I was fortunate it was as minor as it was.  I understood very quickly that it was only a matter of time before something very bad happened.  This was compounded with the fact that I took more chances on scaffolding than I probably should have.  My boss confessed to my parents once about watching me nervously on a scaffold, I assume it was from concern that I'd take a misstep from two stories up.

I didn't really need extra motivation to stay in school.  There was no chance of me quitting once I started, and it's the setting where I've always done best.  However, having a job like that, which I worked even through my freshman year in college, provided quite a bit of clarity regarding the sort of life I did not want to have, and the choices I needed to make to keep from going down that path.  There are probably a lot of people who don't have that opportunity, and they make life decisions without that same clarity.  I can now, twenty years after the fact, say that this clarity was a blessing.