(And Why We’re Not Just Here—We’re Taking Over)
This blog wasn’t born from a brainstorming session. It wasn’t gently drafted over coffee or inspired by some motivational Pinterest quote.
Nope. It was sparked by a phone call.
A real one. At work. In 2025.
Mr. Caller: “Hi honey, could you connect me to someone who knows what they’re doing?”
Insert vein-popping silence and my immediate need to take deep, regulated breaths to avoid flipping the entire desk.
“Someone who knows what they’re doing”? Buddy, I’ve forgotten more about industrial lumber than you’ll ever know. But sure—let me go grab a man so you can feel validated. Because no, sweetheart, I’m not your glorified secretary—I’m the one who helps keep this mess from burning down.
That call didn’t just make my blood boil—it ignited a full-blown five-alarm fire. The kind that makes my fingers type faster than OSHA violations fly on a non-union jobsite. So here we are.
Because women in construction are still getting “honeyed,” second-guessed, and asked to fetch someone who allegedly “knows more.” And we’re still supposed to smile through it?
Nah. Not today.
This blog is for every woman who's ever been talked over, doubted, side-eyed, or underestimated on a jobsite. For every one of us who’s had to prove ourselves twice just to be taken half as seriously.
We’re not here for your comfort.
We’re here because we earned it.
And if you’re still wondering whether we belong in construction, allow me to introduce you to the women of Calumet Lumber—who are too busy running sh*t to wait for your approval.
Let’s Talk About the “Good Ol’ Days” (If You’re into Horror Stories)
Once upon a bourbon-soaked time, women were banned from working in the trades—not because we couldn’t do it, but because some guy in a suit decided our wombs might fall out if we climbed a ladder. Meanwhile, half the crew couldn’t tell a level from a lunchbox, but sure—we were the liability.
Then WWII hit, and suddenly, women were useful. Rosie the Riveter showed up, flexed a bicep, and proved we could build war machines and outwork every dude at the factory. But as soon as the war ended, we were shoved back into the kitchen with a condescending “thanks, doll,” and told to stick to meatloaf and mascara.
Spoiler: we didn’t stay there.
Welcome to 2025. Same Industry. New Rules. Ours.
Today, women make up a whopping 11% of the construction workforce. Big progress, right? Except only 1% of us are out in the field. The rest are quietly herded into admin and HR roles like it’s the 1950s and someone’s worried we’ll chip a nail operating a skid steer.
Let’s call it what it is: this industry was not built for us.
But here’s the thing about women—we adapt. We bulldoze. We put up with more crap in a week than most of you could handle in an hour, and we do it without flinching. We’ve learned how to quote six-figure jobs while being talked down to. We’ve hauled lumber while being asked if we needed help lifting it. We’ve led crews of men who still can’t believe we’re the boss.
Tough. We are.
The Numbers Don’t Lie—But They Might Make You Sweat
Let’s slap you in the face with a few stats before someone tries to explain why “women just aren’t interested in construction.”
Gender-diverse companies? 25% more productive.
Job sites with women on them? 46% better safety records. We read safety protocols instead of pretending we were born with OSHA knowledge in our bloodstream.
Teams with women in leadership? 15% more profitable. You’re welcome.
Inclusive workplaces? Higher retention, less drama, better results. Why? Because we don’t waste time measuring who has the bigger tape measure. We just get the damn job done.
Still underpaid.
Even after all that, women in construction make:
95 cents to the dollar in union roles (which is considered good).
80 to 85 cents outside unions.
And if you're a woman of color? You’re looking at 60–70 cents if you're lucky—and a constant uphill slog to even be seen.
We’re outperforming men, outlasting their egos, and still making less. But sure, keep asking if we’re “qualified.”
Meet the Women of Calumet Lumber: Built Different
April – Fourth Generation Owner, Glass Ceiling Sniper
Let’s start at the top—literally. April isn’t just the owner of Calumet Lumber; she’s the fourth generation of a legacy that’s been moving timber and making deals since 1906. And under her leadership? This place didn’t just survive—it leveled up.
She’s led this WOSB, WBENC, WBE, and DBE-certified beast through an industry that still tries to act surprised when a woman knows what “dimensional” means. Newsflash: April’s been in rooms where she’s the only woman—and still left every man taking notes. She’s not interested in fitting in. She’s here to lead, disrupt, and dominate. And she does it without breaking a sweat.
Katy – Brain Surgery Survivor, Accounting Sniper, Keeper of the Ledger
Katy runs our AP department with such precision; it makes Swiss watches look sloppy. She catches invoice errors with the accuracy of a sniper and balances the books while the rest of us are still figuring out how we lost that one receipt from three weeks ago.
She survived brain surgery—yeah, real surgery, on her actual brain—and came back like, “Cool, where’s that vendor statement?” Most people wouldn’t bounce back from a bad cold that fast. Katy walked back in and immediately started chasing down overdue POs with that quiet, terrifying efficiency we all secretly admire (and slightly fear).
If you forgot to turn something in, she’ll remind you with a smile—and that subtle edge in her voice that says, “Do it again and I will haunt your spreadsheets.”
She’s the rock. And Calumet doesn’t roll without her.
Judith – Teamster, Flatbed Queen, and Road Warrior Extraordinaire
Judith doesn’t just drive a truck—she owns the road. Behind the wheel of a loaded flatbed, she’s smoother than fresh concrete and tougher than a pallet of hardwood in January.
She’s one of many women driving big rigs in our region, and if that surprises you, you clearly haven’t been on a jobsite lately. Female drivers are out here hauling serious loads, backing into job sites with inches to spare, and parking rigs better than most folks can handle a minivan. Judith just does it with the kind of quiet confidence that says: “I got this—don’t make it weird.”
Try to offer her advice and you’ll be lucky if all you walk away with is a bruised ego and a gently crushed clipboard.
She doesn’t ask for space—she makes it, keeps it moving, and does it all without breaking a sweat. Efficient, unbothered, and absolutely essential—Judith is the kind of driver you build a schedule around, not the other way around.
Stefanee – Writer, Rabble-Rouser, Walking HR Violation (But Like, in a Fun Way) & Loudmouth Who Calls Bullsh*t
That’s me—the one who doesn’t bother with makeup but won’t apologize for loving bright colors and a splash of glitter. I’m the sledgehammer in a toolbox full of polite suggestions. I write this blog to call out OSHA screw-ups, call bullshit on unsafe jobsites, and expose the nonsense everyone else is too afraid to touch.
I don’t sugarcoat. I don’t play nice. I’m here to make the construction world wake the f*ck up—because too many people are still skating by on lazy, outdated crap that gets folks hurt or worse.
I quote lumber, rant about safety violations, and tell it like it is—whether you like it or not. I’m the loudmouth who brings the chaos and keeps Calumet Lumber real. The glitter? That’s just to remind you I’m not here to blend in.
Alex – Fifth Generation, Learning Fast, and Carving Her Own Damn Path
Alex is still learning the ropes—mostly from behind a desk, not out in the yard—but don’t let that fool you. She’s watching, absorbing, and quietly plotting her own kind of world domination. She’s got sawdust in her blood and steel in her stare, but she’s not sold on the idea of taking over the company—that might be her brother’s gig.
Alex isn’t here to just inherit a legacy; she’s here to remodel the whole damn blueprint in a way that fits her vision. She’s young, figuring sh*t out, and ready to shake things up on her own terms—office chair or not.
Final Nail in the Coffin (And We’re Swinging a Sledge)
Here’s the cold hard truth: we’re done asking for space. We’re taking it. With calloused hands, quick wits, and a resilience that scares the hell out of every dude still clutching his “boys club” membership card, women are reshaping this industry—one truck, one scaffold plank, one OSHA form at a time.
Call us difficult. Call us aggressive. Call us “emotional” while we’re quoting six-figure jobs, managing crews, keeping the books tighter than your ego, and dodging your outdated opinions like flying debris on a windy jobsite.
And don’t forget the pay gap. We’re doing twice the work for less cash—unless there’s a union contract holding things somewhat level. Otherwise, forget it.
At Calumet Lumber, we’re not a diversity checkbox. We’re the damn standard. Serving heavy industry since 1906, certified and crushing it with women at the wheel—literally, Judith’s driving the truck.
We don’t shrink to fit your narrative. We expand it—making room for tomboys, glam girls, misfits, trailblazers, and every woman who walked onto a jobsite knowing she’d have to prove herself twice just to be taken half as seriously.
So here’s your PSA:
We’re not going anywhere.
We’re not dialing it down.
And we sure as hell aren’t “toning it down to be more approachable.”
We’re the approach.
We’re the foot in the door.
And if the door’s locked? We’ve got a crowbar.
Next time someone questions whether women belong in construction, send them our way. We’ll sell them the lumber, deliver it in our rig, and then blog about how we did it better, faster, and with a fresh coat of glitter.
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