Gabrielle Shelton - Persistence

 

 

Every single welding shop in Manhattan refused to hire me. It wasn't my youth or my inexperience, they said, “It was just simply the fact that I was a girl and they didn't know what to do with a girl welder.” The first guy who was just straight up disgusted, he said, “No. It's not right.” But one of the other guys said, “I'm sorry, honey, we don't even have a girl's bathroom.” The corpulent Italian metal shop owner on Grand Street in soho, he leaned back in his chair, put his cigarette out, he literally shoved my resume back to me and he said, “You know what? Don't get me wrong, we wouldn't mind looking at you, but you're just going to be way too distracting to my men.” 

 

So, I kept looking and everybody turned me down. I had just driven across country from Chicago to New York in my 1973 Chevy. It wasn't the young, it wasn’t hot rod one, it was the dorky cream puff post catalytic converter one. [audience laughter] I had been working as a welder and in foundries in Chicago when I was in school and I'd just come off a six-month gig as an iron worker in Georgia. I was a really fucking good welder and I didn't understand why nobody would hire me. 

 

The union wasn't really what I wanted. The iron workers apprenticeship wasn't for me. You had to start as a flag waiver, as a girl, and it was about a four-month program to even touch a piece of metal and I wasn't going to wait for that. And so, I kept looking and broadened my search and I got a job in this little theater on Greenwich Street in Spring. It was this cultish theater community center. I was doing props and helping in their tiny little shop, and then they expanded into the room next door. And on the first day that the contractor came in, this guy Joe, I just put my hooks in him right away. I knew he might be a way in, and so I started stalking him. [audience laughter] 

 

I would get there before he did, so I could help bring the tools up in the elevator. I started showing up on days that I wasn't even on shift or on call. I would nonchalantly bring him a coffee or a bacon, egg and cheese on a roll as if I had just had an extra one. [audience laughter] I got to know his guys and Esteban, his head carpenter, he looked at me one day, he's like, “Do you like working for free or you know, what's going on here?” I just told him I needed a job, I wanted a job and I wanted to be a metal worker and I wanted to be an engineer and I wanted to figure out cut list and order steel and I wanted to learn how to build everything I possibly could and weld every possible thing I could and design and be a mechanic and engineer everything.

 

And he's like, “Well, you got to ask for a job first, you know?” [audience laughter] So, on the last day that they were wrapping up the construction at theater, I followed Joe down and put his toolbox in his truck. I was standing there and he was looking at me. He’s not really sure what to do with me. I was about to ask, but I was in the way. He got in his truck and he sat down and was standing there still. He did this half, like bye, nod, and he drove off. The guys were walking to the subway and I ran after him and I said, “Hey, you guys want to get a beer?” And they said, “Sure.” And Esteban was like, “Let's tell Shorty. Let's get her Heineken and tell her how poorly she swings a hammer.” So, we went to the Ear Inn, which was right around the corner. 

 

This was 1995, by the way, almost 22 years old. And so, that night, they told me-- Actually, that afternoon, construction is pretty early. We were drinking and sun hadn't set yet and they told me a lot of crazy stuff. It was the whole crew. The most important thing they told me, is that Joe was starting a new job on Forsyth Street the next morning. So, I picked up Steve and Dave at 26th and 2nd Avenue? 2nd Avenue. About six o’clock in the morning, we drove down. Steve was this wild ex-heroin addict. He'd played drums in every punk band in New York. He looked like scrappier version of Kramer, if you can imagine that. [audience laughter] He had real fucked up teeth. 

 

And Dave was this sexy, cool carpenter millworker. Sorry. [audience laughter] He wore this single conch shell on a leather [audience laughter] piece around his neck. He had tight jeans and his hair was in front of his eyes. The only real turn off about Dave was that he was a huge Pat Metheny fan and he used to do this fusion air guitar. 

 

Anyway, so I got the job on Forsyth Street. The first day, Amani and I had to bring up 300 sheets of drywall and chip tile and pull pipes and all that. At the end of that job a couple months later, Joe liked me and we were buddies. He told me he hired me full time and I told him, “I really wanted to be a metal worker.” And he said, “Yeah, that's what the guys say.” And he said, “You know what? You got to Williamsburg. That's where all the scrappy metal workers your age are going.” [audience laughter] 

 

I know a guy over there and I'll tell him you're a hard worker. So, I took the L-train to Bedford Avenue, got a coffee at the L-Cafe and walked to North 6th Street, made a right old meatpacking district back then. Right as the delivery truck was pulling up in front of the shop, smiled, dropped my backpack, started unloading the truck before my new boss even knew my name. Thank you.