Women in Boots #1: Tardis Time

Warning: ”Some of my posts from here on in may disturb some viewers.

Names of people and places have been changed or omitted to protect their

identity. There may be offensive language. Mild language is acceptable and will

be included in its entirety. There may be any or all of the following:

Broad generalisations.

Statements deemed ‘not politically correct’.

Brutal facts, home truths some viewers may not want to hear.

All views expressed in my posts are mine only and are not a reflection on any

company or client past or present that I am or will be affiliated with.

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The ‘data’ here (insert opinions) has been accumulated over 3 decades of

personal on site experience and every story, scenario or recollection is true, not

a ‘fictitious story’ to add value as has been suggested in the past. Truth is

stranger than fiction.

If you the reader are not willing to accept the above please abandon your

desire to carry on reading. If you decide to carry on reading and are then

offended, tuff sh#t you were warned so do not come crying to me after the

fact. Regular readers, this warning shall remain at the start of all of my posts

on this forum, just skip it and hook in to main piece.

PS I know it is the wrong ‘tuff’ that may happen too.

Cheers Hard Hat Mentor.”

Hi Team,

Firstly if you have not read the ‘intro post’ to this series here it is below, it is a

fast read and I feel it would be helpful to give you the bigger picture before

you hook into this one

www.linkedin.com/pulse/women-boots-intro-post-drewie-dionne-drew-aka-

hard-hat-mentor?trk=pulse_spock-articles

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Post number 1 for the ‘Women In Boots’ series, how excitement! Ready?

Ok so let’s time travel back to my 18th birthday

1985. It was my first day on a copper mine in

South Australia. My Mum was working there and

got me a job as a cleaner. It was very much a case

of who you know not what you know. The good

folk who work in essential services are among

some of the hardest working I have ever met. The

very term says it all. Feeling a little off? Have no

energy? Care factor of zero? We all have days like

that, I don’t care who you are, we do. Well that is

just tough shit if you work in essential services. The rooms need cleaning, the

food needs cooking and the dishes need doing regardless, and oh don’t you

hear about it if any of the above are even slightly under par. To this day I leave

‘gifts’ on my pillow for the cleaners, take the time to thank the chefs and

kitchen hands every single day for looking after me when I am on site. Hope

you do too, if not, start today I say.

The roster was not too bad, 3 weeks on 1 off. The dongas were tiny, no

ensuite. (Though those of us in the game at the time knew no different) The

girls had their own ablution block. Mind you the guys used to go into our loo

when they were pissed and have a huge dump thinking it was hilarious. They

also used to steal our underwear and bras from the line and the dryer. One of

my bras ended up on a machine in the workshop with all saying it was found in

the back of ‘Tim’s car.’ The louder the denials the more convinced everyone

was of the truth, I gave up after about 4 times.

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The air conditioners in the dongas were so

loud and rattled the whole room. Had to

get up and give them a bash during the

night to at least lower the level of the

shaking a little. To this day I cannot sleep

in silence, causes all sorts of grief at home.

Having a jaw crusher in the background for

years probably added to that too. Speaking of walls you could literally hear

your neighbour fart, even a very quiet fart, they were so thin. Heard all sorts of

‘interesting’ things going on.

The drinking and drugs were rife on site. No testing back then. I was no saint,

even spiked the orange juice with vodka one Christmas day. Hey I was

18...Needless to say no one let on, yet the OJ vanished faster than ever before,

had the boss stumped. No one was injured that day, for the record.

The number of times I woke up with 3 or 4 guys in my room sitting on the end

of my bed trying to convince me up to come back to the ‘party,’ as I had left

early to get some sleep, was out of control. The door locks were broken, many

things were broken. They had no ill intent, just freaked me out as you can

imagine.

So many memorable moments there. I was banned from playing pool in the

wet mess in my shorts. It was 40 plus degrees most of the time (Celsius for our

international readers) I only owned the clothes I owned. My

shorts were very, very short. Genuinely had no idea what I

was doing to the guys, since I wouldn’t ‘put out’ they didn’t

want to see it anymore. Be mindful what you are putting out

there by your choice of clothing. Right or wrong it is a fact.

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Just friendly advice, take it or leave it, have a think about it. Tight, tight jeans,

low cut tops… what are you saying? The way you behave is more important I

guess, yet couple that with highly revealing attire and it is the perfect storm.

This next piece of ‘advice’ not so friendly.

‘If you are doing it on purpose, trust me when I say it will end in tears in the

long run. It is not professional and it will put us back years in our hope to be

taken seriously. Oh and it pisses those of us off who have worked so hard to

give you the right to flaunt sexual crap in front of guys so far from their

family for so long. So pull your head in or leave site, you don’t belong and you

are not welcome.’ HHM

We had chicks come to site who were blatantly there to sleep with many,

some even charged for the privilege. Made me sick. Not my business yet it

made it all the more difficult for those of us just trying to make it in a world

which was hard enough as it was.

What also made/makes me angry is this ridiculous notion that all women were

on site to ‘bag a rich miner.’ Possibly not so prevalent now days, yet I still hear

it. My come back was “No, I am here to get rich and they can try to bag me.”

Well that was a hell of a side bar or one of my famous ‘tangents,’ so back to

the story. My goal was always to get out of essential services. Whenever some

ars#hole ‘frisbeed’ the plate from the return counter into the big sink I was

washing the dishes in (as it was hilarious to see me get drowned) I just took a

deep breath and remembered the end goal. I was a smart mouthed little thing

then – as opposed to? – and yes I ‘give it to em’ when they did that, yet like

everything else back then being a chick, the louder you complained the more

they did it, whatever it was. If you just ignored ‘it’ they got bored and stopped.

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There was always a line in the sand of course, you had to pick your battles and

little pranks like that were small fry compared to some of stuff that went

down. Mind you my tongue was bleeding most of the time from biting it so

very often.

Things were different when not ‘on the clock.’ I ‘gave as good as I got’ and then

some. Found out pretty quickly that smart arse blokes can give it but are

pussies when it comes to taking it back, especially from a little girl. (That fact

has never changed just quietly) I thought “I have taken your crap all day at

work. This is my time now.” We live and learn. Blokes are actually fairly easy to

‘influence’ without having a battle. (I didn’t write manipulate) and in a manner

which takes far less energy. Can be done with respect, which is always a smart

move, if you do it right they don’t even know it has been done. Not hard, make

them think they came up with the idea, let them take all the credit. Easy. (One

of many other strategies all women have pretty much mastered I would think.)

Guys out there, do you have a daughter, a wife, a mother, a girlfriend? Then

you may have an idea what I mean. Do not think for one minute that the

professional women on your team are not using every tool in their kit on you…

as you are on them, what a wonderful world we live in. GOLD!!

Putting a few mine sites together here for the sake of time; in Western

Australia on a gold mine now. Roster 6 weeks on 1 off. Pretty prevalent roster

then for an operational FIFO site.

Working remotely appeals to some who are quite happy to get away from their

‘real life.’ As a woman it was heartbreaking to meet some men who hated us

being there. (Remember talking old school here.) I usually say ‘hate is such a

strong word’, yet there is no other word for it, it came out of their very pores,

screamed at you in their body language even when they tried to mask it and be

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at least civil. Many were angry as they had a rough

break up or divorce and ‘that bitch is taking most

of my money I am earning here anyway’. The way

those particular guys treated the chicks on site

would blow your mind. It would never be tolerated in this day and age. Blatant

sexual, psychological harassment and some of the worst cases of bullying I

have ever seen and I have seen plenty. Portions of it even came from the

bosses. All of it ignored, no one held accountable. Their world. Toughen up

princess or get out. We supported those who suffered as best as we could,

tried to make the ‘leaders’ hear our plight, to no avail. I survived as I grew up in

a rough neighbourhood, came from a broken home, bla bla, on top of some of

the background in the intro post. Many did not. It broke them and broke them

very badly. I started to understand why some of the women on site were so

‘manly’ swore like bloody troopers and you wouldn’t want to meet them in a

dark alley if they were angry at you. They were the generation before me and I

cannot even begin to imagine their journey. There were ‘ladies’ on site who

survived of course. Yet they didn’t mix it on the front line as much, more in the

office environment etc. It also seemed if you dressed and acted like a ‘lady’

should then some of the heat came off. Being a tom boy and taking no shit, I

took plenty of heat.

Gave it back like a flame thrower. I evolved to settle into the middle ground

where I hang out today. It is a good place, took some time to find.

Taking the tardis to the present day: If someone offends you on site ladies, let

them know and give them a chance - only one - to adjust their behaviour,

don’t just run off and ‘report’ them without them even knowing they have

offended you. For me that too will put us back years. (Naturally if it is an

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obvious off the scale unacceptable attack that everyone

knows in today’s time is just that, then do what you feel is

appropriate.)

Ok back to the story or we shall be here for years! The next goal came pretty

rapidly, out of the cleaning and kitchen and into the laboratory. Sample prep to

start, up there on the hard yards scale. Hot, dusty, loud, boring, took a toll on

the body. Yet done with pride anything is satisfying and just kept thinking

about the next goal. That came super- fast, into the ‘wet lab’ no dust yet very

stinky chemicals. Boring. Monkeys can do it - no offense monkeys - yet to

trouble shoot on the AA, to care enough not to cheat, especially on night shift,

that takes more effort. A critical role working in a lab, accurate results are so

very important, can be game changers. Still the cheating that went on in the

lab, on the plant, well everywhere was mind numbing. My work ethic did not

allow that. The abandoned posts on nightshift due to sleeping were legendary.

Joints smoked in the crib room. (Not me of course) Need I go on?

We must wind up here. Those tangents took up our time, I shall let them often.

We shall carry on in post #2.

Hit the finish line with some positive mojo.

The bonds you make with people on sites is very hard to describe. Especially

when you spend the likes of Christmas and New Year with them. When many

other very special and important milestones in your and their lives are being

spent with your crew instead of your family and friends, it ties you together in

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a way no one else will ever understand. (Except probably those in the forces

and other occupations that take you away I guess, yet that is on a level I will

not profess to relate too, totally different ball game.) They really do become a

surrogate family. There are times when some very serious possibly life

changing events are happening at home and you just cannot be there. The

support offered by your crew in those times shows a side of humanity that

makes me so very proud to be human. Even some who may never have given

you the time of day or were perhaps mean to you at times, show their true

colours. Those colours are vibrant, illuminating, blindingly comforting.

We shall explore this further in the next post. Including the fact that the

‘gender’ gap melts away at those times. We are all one, as we should be,

sacrificing and celebrating together (all the other crap is forgotten.) That is a

huge part of what keeps me in the game. To be with those special souls who

‘get it.’

Hope this one was not too long for you. If you are here, then perhaps not.

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As always this is all just my humble opinion, I share it in the hope it may

resonate or assist.

FIFO = For Incredible Folk Only: There will be a positive acronym on every post.

Please let me know your thoughts. See you again on #2.

‘Likes’ are lovely, ‘Comments’ are cool, and ‘Sharing’ is caring.

Stay safe, keep smilin’

Only use your power for good.

Cheers Drewie and Hard Hat Mentor

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