Exploding Stereotypes
Throughout my lifetime I have been aware of stereotypes based on sex. Not just aware—but swayed by them. Even though my marriage was considered “non-traditional” by most folks (He did the bulk of the shopping and cooking. I mowed the grass and fixed the lawn tractor when it broke), throughout 35 years of marriage, I bought into the idea that barbecue grills were the man’s domain.
And when we moved from New Mexico to Arkansas, who was the primary loader of the giant truck? He was. Oh, I packed the kitchen ware and wine glasses carefully into boxes. This task couldn’t be entrusted to a man. But he ordered the truck, loaded the heavy furniture, and unloaded the big stuff at the other end.
Now I’m widowed. And I’m moving. Long distance. And I have to actually be the one to research moving methods, make the truck/trailer/pod reservations, load the goods, and unload them in their new home.
But I’m moving in stages—not all at once. So, for the first round, I ordered a couple of U-Haul Boxes. Crates that are 6×9 feet around, and 9 feet tall. Kinda like deep closets. I have experience with closets. I figured I could do this.
The delivery of the boxes was an eye-opener. I was, of course, expecting a man, because stereotyping tells me the driving of semi-trucks is men’s work. So I was taken aback—gleefully so— to find that a woman drove the giant semi-truck down my narrow crooked and steep dirt road—all by herself. Once out of the cab, she lowered a super-powered forklift machine from the truck bed to ground level, and used it to carry two giant closets down my rocky curvy driveway and place them in my yard. No men needed.
We had a nice chat. I told her the super forklift looked like a lot of fun, and she assured me it was, indeed! We exchanged ideas on how handy one of these super forklifts could be at home. And I asked her how she handles driving the semi-truck down country roads narrower than mine. Tears and profanity, she told me. Tools that help her get the job done—like when she had to back up the semi for two miles because there was no other escape. What a warrior!
Stereotypical history told me I needed male muscle to move my furniture. But for the next three days, a brigade of four women—three of whom each have 7 decades of life experience with closets—loaded the cubicles. This was no easy task since my property is on a steep slope, and every single dresser, mattress, and table that went into a U-Haul crate had to be carted uphill. We had a hand truck, a collapsible wagon, a couple of ratchet straps, and our communal muscle. And we did it: Exploded another stereotype.
On the fourth day, another semi arrived to pick up the crates—driven by yet another woman, who efficiently used another super forklift to load my closets onto her truck (She, too, agreed, it would be a fun, handy household item.)
Thank you, Janice J., Elaine K., and Molly S. Maybe I could have done it without you—but I kinda doubt it. And together, we shattered a couple of stereotypes that had been lodged in my head. Turns out I’m not too old. And women can load a truck.
Maybe someday I’ll try a barbecue grill.