Seeking Safety for Construction Workers
I shared the following on social media. They are contradictions to what I see is making people unsafe. One set is for men, and one is for women—although there are commonalities.
I am trying to address certain oppressions and chronic patterns. The oppressions and patterns, which were there before COVID, have left construction workers with a higher COVID positivity rate than food service workers and even health care workers. Only correctional officers have a higher rate of infection than construction workers.
To the men in construction:
I see you.
I see how hard you work.
I see the physical risks you have taken throughout your career. I see how the willingness to push to the extreme and risk injury to get the job done is both a point of pride and exploited by our industry.
I see how tough and strong you are.
I see your skill.
I see your minds and hearts.
I see how few of you in construction have access to paid time off.
I see how the construction culture values toughness at all costs.
I see how all this together makes it next to impossible to follow the COVID protocols.
But I love you, individually and as a group, for all you do and who you are.
I don’t want you to die.
Please find a way a way to commit yourself to wearing a mask and keeping your distance as we get through this next surge of COVID.
Please be safe—for yourself, for your family, for your union, for me—whatever it takes.
To the women in construction:
I see you.
I see your fierceness.
I see the obstacles you overcame to build your career in construction.
I see your dedication to your skill, your craft, your trade.
I see the good money you’re bringing into your family (even if your family is just you).
I see your moments of bursting with joy when you master that tricky skill or lift that heavy thing.
I see the history you changed when you left certain expectations in order to do this work.
I see your pride as you tell everyone, “I built that.”
I see your courage, I see your muscles, I see your humor.
I see your friendships, built on shared sweat and laughter.
I’m proud to know you. I’m proud to be one of you.
I see you enduring the daily “paper cuts” [small insults] of people questioning your skill, your strength, your right to be here.
I see the pressure against safety on the job: get it done, don’t complain, pick up the pace.
I see how all the pressures against women in the trades can make it even harder to be safe.
I see how when most of the men aren’t wearing masks it can be almost impossible to wear a mask, to be the only one yet again.
I see how much you’ve done to fight the idea that women are weak.
But our fierceness, joy, pride, courage, and muscles won’t stop COVID.
This virus is a different animal from all we’ve handled before.
We’ve lost sisters and brothers to it already. I don’t want to lose more because we couldn’t do this.
There’s so much we can’t control, but we can control our own behavior.
And we can lead. We can lead.
Please be safe. I want to keep knowing you.
With love,
USA
(Present Time 203, April 2021)