The Field

EDUCATION The Field Theresa L. Burriss They had always been a part of my life. But they stood in the margins, appearing only within my peripheral vision, never directly in front. In a way, I grew up with them. Yet their presence in my life remained distant. And they only bridged this distance as my grandfather and father allowed. In elementary school, I reveled in the times whenGrangran Pop or Daddy grabbed a hardhat, fixed it atop my head, and invited, "Let's go." We'd journey through treacherous mountain passes, sinewy turns greeting us at periodic intervals. Sometimes our travels took us deeper into the lush valleys of East Tennessee, while other times we'd find our way through coal-dusted counties of far Southwest Virginia or Eastern Kentucky. Our destinations all depended on BurWil Construction Company's bid success. If Grangran and Daddy were low bidders, then BurWil secured the construction of yet another commercial project. And this is where "they" made an appearance, on these construction sites. Jim and Randy, Bill and Lewis, Roger, Tom, Wade, and Verlain. They were principle actors in the drama that unfolded in the field, while I lingered conspicuously in the wings at times to marvel at their skill and ingenuity. As Jim and Randy served as supervisors, keeping vigilant watch over blueprints and myriad men on their projects, Bill and Lewis easily maneuvered cranes and backhoes to place steel beams or dig plumbing trenches. Meanwhile, Roger, Tom, Wade, and Verlain wielded hammer and nails to erect 2x4 framing, to hang windows and doors, to exhibit fine finish carpentry. It was a magical sight to witness, this flurry of seemingly chaotic activity that evolved into a high school, a bank, a wastewater treatment plant. I was never a part of this activity, though I desperately wanted to be. I sometimes dreamed of becoming an architect, the creator of such wondrous engineering. But in the mind of a ten-year-old, that time of growing up and pursuing a career remained too elusive. So, I'd return to the joys of childhood to build forts out of firewood, to scatter with friends throughout the neighborhood while playing kick-the-can. Periodically, though, through the rest of elementary school and on into junior high, I'd dive into the world of construction, albeit briefly, to witness the ebb and flow of the field. 20 Then, when I turned sixteen, Grangran invited me to work in BurWil's office. I learned the basic administrative side of the construction industry, but grew bored sitting at a desk eight hours a day during the summer months. Because I had always been a tomboy, climbing trees and scampering across woodland knolls, my limbs and spirit atrophied in the office setting. I sought every opportunity to accompany a project manager on visits to construction sites. Yet these were infrequent and never satiated my desire. And because of OSHA regulations, I could not even entertain the idea of working in the field until I turned eighteen. As with all those who remain patient, I did earn that chance to join the men of the field in 1984, the year that I turned eighteen, the summer before I left for college. I begged Grangran and Daddy not to make me return to the office, to give me an opportunity on the sites. And for whatever reason, they both consented. So, with steel-toed work boots laced tightly on my feet and shiny new hardhat fitted squarely on my head, I entered the world of construction—as a laborer. Instead of sitting bored at a desk eight hours a day, I labored, hard physical labor, eight hours a day for two months. Roger, one of BurWil's finer carpenters, took me under his wing, and I followed him throughout the remodeling and expansion of Bristol Memorial Hospital, the very hospital where I'd been born. Because I was such a novelty on the jobsite—after all, I was the only female and the boss's daughter—I eventually became the darling in the field. This did not come without proving myself, however. I worked hard. Every day I'd leave with new...