I remember asking for a tool kit for Christmas when I was 12--I wanted one like my big brother had been given, with pliers, socket wrenches, and little rings of hex keys. My parents tried to convince me that I didnt want tools; what would I even do with them? I cried, and tried to explain that I wanted to take things apart and put things together. My brother bought it for me in the end. Over the last four years, those same tools, worn from a dozen years of heavy use, rebuilt our house from the ground up. People (read: grown-ass men) still seem surprised when I turn up to a theatre set-build with a power drill hanging from my tool belt, and I know, whether they realize it or not, when they say be careful as I climb a ladder or operate a table saw, theyre actually saying Thats no job for you, little lady, but Im not listening anymore. I have work to do.
Posted on: Wed, 25 Jun 2014 19:39:06 +0000
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