Written By: Hope Azzaratta-Rubyhawk
Edited By: Morgan Marks
Part I: The Build Up
All at once, the humbling weight of trust thudded down upon my shoulders. There I stood, in the turned and dry dirt under the hot sun at the crux between home foundations, vaguely aware of the scattered, jovial crowd in the background and quite aware of the director of my organization walking away from me toward the Habitat for Humanity branded car. We were at the site of a new rural homebuilding project in Red Lodge, Montana. The construction supervisor had been in an awful car accident only days before and was starting the work of recovery from a severe injury. Today, the small-town community had come together to celebrate the raising of the first wall on one of the four homes in progress. As the group mingled following the event, Jacob had pulled me aside to walk with him around the build site as he patiently explained everything that needed to be accomplished in the coming couple of weeks.
Afterward, Jacob said goodbye and headed back to Helena–four hours away. With the construction supervisor suddenly unable to continue in his role, I was now taking on some of his responsibilities. These included leading the team of future homeowners and volunteers on build days, tracking contractor progress, performing small construction-related tasks, and picking up needed materials from the lumber store. The turn of events had made me the only representative of Helena Habitat living in the area. While the local partner, The Red Lodge Area Community Foundation, is a supporter of the housing program and works directly with applicants and future homeowners, Helena Habitat is responsible for all aspects of construction. Mark, the construction manager, would provide clearly broken-down directions, but I had to make sure that we got out there and actually got it done.
Let me back up and clarify that at that time, I had roughly two and a half days of construction experience. That is, unless you count putting together furniture that comes out of a cardboard box or hanging cheap curtain rods assisted only by a screwdriver and my sheer force of will. Furthermore, I had started my position as Volunteer and Family Services Coordinator only a week prior as a member of AmeriCorps National.
AmeriCorps is a national service program which places people in non-profit and community-oriented organizations throughout the country. In exchange for three months to one year of service, a member receives professional experience, an education award, and a small living stipend. My husband and I had recently returned to our hometown of Red Lodge after a couple of years away. I saw this opportunity to serve with AmeriCorps as a chance to reconnect with the community and do meaningful work in the town I loved and had missed. I also was an ambitious new mother who wanted to change careers and amp up her professional life on her return to the workforce, and I hoped that a term with AmeriCorps would pave a path to fulfill that goal.
While I knew prior to my AmeriCorps term that I would be doing some work on the build site and serving in a supportive role, I confess I never imagined that part of my journey to a new career would involve being thrust so suddenly into the world of construction. But, as Jacob closed the car door and began the drive back to Helena, my determination quickly overtook the nerves that had churned in my gut. The Red Lodge community, especially the future homeowners who had already started working to build their homes, were counting on the success of this project. As three dedicated single mothers and essential workers, I admired the heart and the optimism the future homeowners put into building a home for their families, sweating in the hot sun for hours and doing difficult tasks that they never had before. Not only did they tackle the physical labor, but each of them had worked so hard even to be present each build day – disciplining themselves into being financially ready for the mortgage they would soon take on and jumping through hoops to make sure they had care for their children as they dug foundations and wielded circular saws.
Though I had only begun building with them a week prior, the nature of our small town meant that I had at least slight familiarity with each of them already. Kristen, Human Resources professional at the local hospital and mother of two older boys, is my mom’s closest friend. As a young adult I had run in the same circles as Tanya, who worked for several years assisting disabled individuals and has a young son and teenage daughter, and who I once gave a tarot reading to at a party. Terry Sue, I recognized from where she worked at the local grocery store, though now I was also aware that she is mom to two young girls and a little boy and has a partner named Parker who usually volunteered at the construction site alongside us.
That day as the small crowd had masked-up and gathered to celebrate the wall-raising, I found that I also recognized many of the faces among them. My own parents were volunteering every Tuesday night on the build site and had recently moved into a house across the street. While it was tempting to feel intimidated by the unexpected responsibilities that had just fallen in my lap, my sense of dependability was stronger. I loved these people and did not want to let them down. I had made a commitment to Helena Habitat, AmeriCorps, and myself. Perhaps most of all, I had indeed been handed an extraordinary amount of trust that no boss had ever handed me before. I was working on my own and remotely. I was completely inexperienced with construction. I was hardly more than a volunteer, receiving half as much pay as in my previous job. Jacob had every reason to believe that I would drop the ball, but that day as he walked with me around the home foundations, he chose to put faith in me instead. It did not matter if it was out of raw necessity. That trust that I had craved in previous work environments added fuel to the fire of determination within me.
If my love of the people involved, understanding of my commitment, and gratitude for being believed in was not enough…my naturally stubborn and overly confident spirit would be. I knew that I could – and would – do this.
