By Lori Carlson, Editor 

I have no construction experience. Let’s make that clear.Lori
Carlson

So, it was with trepidation that I read an e-mail from my friend, who wrote that she wanted to celebrate her 40th birthday by getting 15 to 20 women together to build a house.

 I tried to imagine myself up on scaffolding, hoisting up a piece of siding and attempting to hammer it to the side of a house. It was a tough attempt at visualization that quickly wandered into visions of me getting tetanus after stepping on a rusty nail or getting sent home for being the worst Habitat for Humanity volunteer ever.

It turns out I was wrong on many counts. Not only did I sign up for Women Build and not get sent home or hurt myself, but I helped to make someone’s dream of owning a home become a reality – and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

When I arrived on site, I was still a little nervous about what the day would bring. Some of the women looked like certified pros. They wore tool belts and hard hats. All I’d brought was a bottle of water. But the site supervisor, a young woman who’d worked in the AmeriCorps program before taking a full-time job with Habitat, put us at ease immediately. She explained how we’d be helping to complete a home for a woman from Somalia who had three children and had already finished the many hours of required sweat equity.

She explained to us that there were four main projects that day: installing the roof on the garage, sanding and sealing pieces of interior trim, siding the garage, or caulking and painting the house’s exterior.

Luckily, I got in on the caulking and painting deal. Though I didn’t mention it, I’m a little afraid of heights, and I didn’t particularly want to inhale polyurethane fumes for eight hours. My hand shot up high when the supervisor asked who would like to caulk and paint. Though I’ve never used a caulking gun, I knew I’d done a good job with painting my own house, and it occurred to me that this project was the best way for me to contribute efficiently.

After we split into our crews and got our supplies in order, the supervisor gave us a quick lesson on how to caulk. I realize many people reading this are probably snickering to themselves, but no, I did not know precisely how to caulk. I understood that caulk fills gaps, but I wasn’t sure how much to use or how much of the excess I needed to wipe off. Still, it didn’t take long before I felt like I was caulking like a pro.

By the time we started painting, I was in the groove. Occasionally, I looked around and saw women pounding shingles on the roof of the garage, women putting up siding, women carrying ladders, women cooperating and working hard. Though none of us had even met the people who would eventually move into the house, all of us felt compelled to do the best job we could for them. We took pride in our work. We talked and laughed, but no one ever put down their tools and stopped working.

By lunch time, my crew seemed more like a group of friends. When we finished for the day, we stood back, looked at what we’d accomplished and exclaimed, “Woo hoo!”

Not only did we realize we had made a difference, but many of us learned that we did, indeed, have construction skills – some of us just needed a little nudge to bring them out of hiding.

 Lori Carlson can be reached at (952) 345-6378 or editor@plamerican.com.