I am not a girly girl but I am not a boy. Anybody who knows me, especially mi familia, knows I do not like to hammer nails. Do not like to touch wood (it gives me slivers). Do not like to clean really dirty areas. I don't like cement. Rocks. Pulling weeds. Yard work.
... (I think I'm starting to sound like a princess).
There are those occasional days though, where I would hop in the back of my dad's diesel fueled, American flag decorated, truck, with my hard hat on the dash and my Carhart boots tied tight. Ready to set off into the danger zone, never knowing what project I was going to be assigned. That's right, me, employee of the day for Wagner Construction of Hampton Inc. And dad I would like to thank you for the lessons, sense of strength and determination you taught me, on those days spent doing a "man's job."
That time I had to crawl in the boiler room, the walls hugging me tightly as I snake crawled through the slimmest hole into a room that was 98 degrees Fahrenheit . That time the hammer decided it wanted to get intimate, and tapped me nicely on the shoulder. That time you told me to swing my arms, widen my stance and walk like a man. These instances, snapshots rather, of concentration and absolute challenging work, are a daily reminder that I can finish this art project, and finish it successfully.
It may have taken me 3 hours to build a 9x9x9 in. cube. It may have taken me three attempts at making the perfect cement solution. (I now know it takes three parts mixture and one part water). It may have taken me a whole class day (6.5 hrs) to figure out how to assemble the base of my sculpture. BUT I have done it. Slowly but surely I have begun to mosaic the world, on a cube, rested on the tip of my fingers. A "man's job" some would say.
All I have to say is I'm a woman
... And I got the whole wide world on the tip of my finger.
THANKS PAPA!
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