Yvonne: 1st Female Card Carrying Union Carpenter In Tennessee
One morning while working at the Merle Norman store I broke down in tears and asked my boss Carolyn for help.
“Carolyn I’m exhausted working four jobs, my kids are with a sitter so much and I still can’t make ends meet.. There has to be a better way.” I sobbed sitting in the chair next to her desk.
She put her hand on mine and said in her sweet southern twang, “Baby you’re doing the best you can. It’s going to be alright.” She was very sympathetic but I needed a solution.
“Carolyn I need a full time job with benefits and health insurance. My kids need to go to the dentist, they need new clothes, they need me to be there for them. I can’t go on like this.”
Carolyn sat up straight in her chair and suddenly had a big smile on her face. “I’ve got it. I read an article in Ladies Home Journal yesterday.” She pulled out a yellow pad and her pen with the flashy rhinestones, “All you have to do to find your dream job, is write down everything you love to do and then find a job that uses all those traits.”
Carolyn couldn’t have been more than 98 pounds but had the biggest knockers I’d ever seen. I often wondered how she was able to walk around with those things without falling over. She had had every operation available in 1977, boob job, butt lift, tummy tuck, eye lift. We called her the 10 million dollar woman. She was beautiful but it was her positive attitude and pure heart that I truly loved. She would have done anything for anyone. I began to tell her everything I loved to do and she began to make a list.
“Well I love to be outside, getting all dirty, rolling in the grass with the kids.” I said. “And I love making things from scratch and standing back and admiring what I’d done. I love working with my hands, being creative, using my imagination. I love to sing and dance with the kids.”
Carolyn was so encouraging, “That’s good honey. Keep going. What else?”
I took in a deep breath and looked up thinking. “I love hard work. I love fixing things. I love to read and write.”
All of a sudden Carolyn picked up the yellow pad and with her huge brown eyes and beautiful smile she said, “I’ve got it! You can be a construction worker.”
I looked at her and laughed, “Yeah right a 119 pound 5’2”construction worker. That’ll work.” I said sarcastically.
She reached for the morning paper and found an article she had read earlier titled: Women in Construction. “Honey read this, they will teach you all you need to know. They pay you a salary and you get food stamps and health insurance.”
That got my attention. She handed me the newspaper. I read it out loud and it really did sound like a great idea. “Wow they take women in need and teach them how to make a good living for themselves. That’s just want I need.” I looked at her but then quickly lost my enthusiasm, “But Carolyn do you really think I could do that kind of work?”
Carolyn smiled, “Honey can you wave a flag?”
I squinted at her, “Wave a flag?”
“Yes darlin’ you could be one of those people who stand in the road and wave a flag. That’s a construction worker.” She touched up my make up and smiled at me, “There you are beautiful. Go get that job honey.”
Carolyn gave me the day off and sent me to an office downtown where the interviews were being held. I parked the car and looked into the mirror on the visor to give myself a pep talk. “You can do this. Your kids are worth it. Go get this job.”
I walked up the sidewalk into the building and looked for the room listed in the paper. Three large hard looking women were coming out of the room when I approached. It was 1976, I had never in my life been that close to a person of color. I went to all white schools, worked with all white people, and for most of my life, my white cousins were my friends. I grew up in the 50’s and my parents prejudice and fears somehow festered up in me as I walked into that room. There were 13 women in the room, eleven were people of color. They were dressed in various lengths of shorts, t-shirts and flip flops or sneakers. The largest woman in the room, had a wide purple hair pick sticking out of the side of her matted hair. She looked right at me like she was going to kill me. Nervously, I smiled back, because I didn’t know what else to do. Immediately I felt completely out of place in my three piece maroon pant suit and vest, maroon plaid blouse, gold heart neckless and love knot gold earrings. My black high heals clicked on the hard floor making my entrance hard to ignore. I felt fear as all eyes were on me and no one smiled.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully to the secretary, “I’m not sure if I’m in the right place.” I barely whispered, “I’d like to apply for the Women in Construction program listed in todays paper.”
She looked me up and down, handed me a form to fill out and chuckled as I found a seat next to the only other white woman in the room. I have never been so afraid in my life and the sad part was, I didn’t really understand what I was afraid of. I kept my children’s image in my mind and filled out the form. When my name was called, I entered the interview with a positive attitude. I needed this job and I wanted it. The women in the waiting area all looked like they didn’t want to be there. They slumped in chairs, smoked cigarettes and just seemed like they all needed naps. Surely, I was a shoe-in. I answered all the ladies questions as she reviewed my form. When the interview was over she took in a deep breath and asked, “Miss Ludington, why exactly are you here?”
I looked her in the eye and said, “I’m here for two reasons.” I opened my purse and pulled Aubry and Johnny’s pictures from my wallet. “These kids.” I got a bit emotional. “They deserve a better life than I’m able to give them right now. I want to be able to support them and this seems like a way to do that.”
I’ll never forget this woman. I truly feel she wanted to hire me, but her hands were tied. “I’m so sorry Ms. Ludington, but this program is for women who have no other option. It’s a way for women to get off of welfare and into the workplace.” She picked up my paper work, “Financially you qualify even though you are not on welfare, but because you graduated from State Beauty School with a license to be a hair dresser, you don’t qualify.” She gently put my paperwork down.
I pleaded, “But I was a terrible hairdresser. I ruined peoples hair. Please I’m begging you. I need this.”
She looked down at the paper, “I’m really sorry.”
I stood up and walked toward the door and then I have no idea what came over me. Frustrated I said, “I angry! I’m working four jobs, I never see my children. You’re being mean to me for no reason!” I slammed the door and left in tears. I don’t know why I said that. It was just the only bad thing I could think of to say. As soon as I got into the car I felt horrible and wished I had just left like the lady my mother taught me to be. Instead, I drove home depressed, defeated and desperate. I took off my suit and my high heels. I laid across my bed and cried myself to sleep.
A few hours later I heard the kids come in the back door. I put on my happy face, kissed them all over their faces and sat them at the wooden kitchen table to hear all about what happened in school, on the buss and on the playground while I fixed an after school snack.
“Mommy, my teacher picked me today to be the line leader!” My little curly haired daughter said with pride.
“Really? and what does a Line Leader do, pray tell?”
“Well, I lead the line into the cafeteria for lunch and back to the class room and then this afternoon I led everyone to the library, and last I had to lead us all outside for the bus!” She was thrilled.
Just then the phone rang. As I went to pick it up I looked and her with a big smile and said, “I’m so proud of you Suzy Q!”
Aubry started to take a sip of the milk I had poured and reached for a cookie on the platter in the center of the table.
I put the phone to my ear and walked toward the kitchen sink. “Hello.”
A sweet southern twang came through the phone. “Hello Ms. Ludington honey, we’ve lost that application you filled out today and I was wonderin’ if you could come by tomorrow and fill out a new one?”
I was confused. “But I didn’t qualify, remember?”
She took a deep breath and said, “Oh baby doll, I want you to re-apply.” And she accented the re..apply.
“Yes but, what will it matter? I went to beauty school remem……”
She cut me off and said “Yes. I know. If you RE APPLY you might forget to put that on the application.”
We were both silent for a moment while that set in. She must have thought I was an idiot it took me so long to understand what she was doing. “Oh yes, ok I’ll be in first thing in the morning..and thank you.”
I hung up the phone and went back to the table. I picked up my young son and twirled him around the kitchen smiling. Johnny giggled and said, “Put me down, mama. Put me down.” I was overjoyed.
I went back the next day, reapplied, left out my beauty school education and just like that, I was a student in the Women in Construction Program in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
In 1976 in the south, men still ruled the world and women were supposed to stay home and bake biscuits. I didn’t enter this mans world to inspire other young women or to be any sort of pioneer, I simply wanted health insurance for my two young children. For nine months I worked with thirty other women learning about the various trades. We were taught by men from the local unions: carpenters, electricians, painters, laborers, plumbers etc. Each day we worked on a community project. One day we painted thrift store another day we put a roof on a boat house at the college, the next we corrected some plumbing issues at a nursing home. Each day was a different job, each teaching us on the trades. After nine months of training we could choose a local union to apply for a paid apprenticeship. I chose the carpenters local. I became an official carpenters apprentice. I had to go to school part of the day and then work on the job the rest of the day. But the good news was my children could get glasses. They could go to the doctor and they could have their teeth cleaned. Generally, it takes four years to become a card carrying union Carpenter. because these men did not want me there it took me nearly 6 years. I was told by one of the carpenters that I was taking a job away from a good man who needed it to support his family. I was too shy to even respond.
Yvonne Conte, has written seven books about Laughter, Humor and Joy however she’s on a new path. She’s writing her Memoir. Her working title is: What I Didn’t Know: A nationally respected motivational speaker plummets into depression when secrets of her childhood cause her to question who she is and to threaten her life’s work. Yvonne ’s 26 years of experience writing seven books, essays, newspaper articles and scripts for radio and TV shines through her new project, memoir, What I Didn’t Know. She’s always loved writing however her college professor truly got her working hard writing and gave her a passion for the art of the written word.
