Peligro! This is not politically correct!

I was at work the other day, slowly wearing away all the cartilage in my shoulders. The stone masons and pool guys outside were toiling in the burning hot sun, having a heck of a time: laughing, smiling, joking amongst themselves. Landscaper guys were moving dirt and mulch all around. The basecoat painters were figuring out how to seal the ceilings of the porches when there was “muy wind.” The cabinet makers were working at a snail’s pace.

And that’s when I started thinking about this blog post. Really, my favorite thing about my job is that while I am transforming people’s spaces, I get to pray and think and ponder big issues. What a bonus. I am one lucky girl.

While I was antiquing the hand-troweled walls on a brand-new dream home to make them look like an old hacienda, I was struck by the differences between the different kinds of subcontractors I come across on the job. I spend a lot of time with subcontractors. Actually, I are one. I am always the only female on the job, and generally, I'm one of the only white ones, which brings me to the point of this post.

Did you know that there are big differences between white subcontractors and Mexican subcontractors? Actually, not all of them are Mexican. One of my favorite fellow painter friends was from Honduras. He figured out how to get himself all the way to Texas all by himself when he was just a boy, and has never seen his family since. He probably never will. It’s not like he can go for a visit on Christmas vacation.

Just in case any of you are getting over-heated because I’m using terms like girl, Mexican, white, etc., just save yourselves the indignation. I warned you this wouldn’t be politically correct. I'm a girl and I'm white. That's just the way it is. I do know all the politically-correct ways to speak and I do it because I'm educated and not racist and really wish we could “all just get along.” Bothering with all that PC speech is also quite tiring.

Getting back to the differences between Hispanic subcontractors and white subcontractors, I can tell you this. The Hispanic ones are just a whole lot more enjoyable to work with on the job. I admire the hell out of them. They work their butts off. They get to the job early and they work all day. But you know what I like best? They smile and laugh and joke with each other while they're doing it. In the blazing hot sun, putting in a pool they'll never get to swim in, they figure out how to have a good time.

I hate to break it to you that white subcontractors are not quite so enjoyable. Their example is not quite so inspiring. Generally, they tend to bitch and moan. It's so unattractive. Their helper is hurt. The job is complicated and hard. Wah wah wah. They get there about 10:30. Leave around 2 p.m. or 3 p.m. If I’m painting in front of a doorway, the white guy will expect me to move my ladder. There are at last three other doors he could use, but I’m in his way.

Yesterday with "muy wind,” the basecoat painter figured out how to seal all the porch ceilings anyway. A white guy would have said he had to come back next week when it wasn't so windy. You think I'm joking. Seriously, I'm not.

White contractors also like to complain about the Mexicans coming in and taking over the trades. And that's probably true. People like a bargain. They also like workers who work hard and show up and are somewhat thankful for the work. There’s another reason white guys are in the trades. Because they like to smoke dope and can’t pass the drug tests for other jobs. Oooooh, did she really write that? It’s one of my theories and I’m sticking to it. That’s the other reason they’re bitter. They smoke dope and have no ambition and barely get by. All of which is sure to make a man grouchy. Particularly when you work in fabulous homes you won’t ever come close to making your own.

One time, on the job with nice guy from Honduras, all the big fat white mediocre housekeeper could do was complain about Mexicans being in the house, as if they were spreading leprosy or something. I guess she thought since I was white I would agree with her. The Mexicans in the house were painting and remodeling. I couldn’t help but advise the homeowner. The next time I was there, a lovely Mexican woman, the wife of the main painter, had taken her place. It was so nice working there with her Christian music playing and all the bad energy from the big fat bitter white maid long gone. The house was also a lot cleaner.

On the job, Mexican subcontractors are more fun to work around. They like to sing. And it’s funny because they really think they can sing well even when they don’t. The white guys are generally grouchy and wishing they were somewhere else.

As I was pondering all this on the job the other day, it occurred to me how much I like to work. I actually like hard work and admire others who work hard (along with people who are smart, and food that is fresh.) I like to accomplish projects and get stuff done. It makes me feel good. I am fulfilled. I wondered how I got to be this way. How do you instill this kind of work ethic in a person, particularly your child? Why am I happy that I climbed a ladder for seven hours and can barely move around without wincing from my various old lady aches and pains? I could have a desk job sitting on my rear, but I don’t want one. Why do some admire sedentary executives in suits over masters of rock work?

The other reason the trades are so fulfilling is because you get a job and you do the job and the job gets finished. It's not like one of those jobs that just keeps on coming and you have no sense of completion. It makes me think of Newman the mailman on Seinfeld. When I finish for the day and limp on out to my truck, I can see what I've done. Usually I'm happy about it. Sometimes I'm all angst-ridden, not in love with it, generally tormented. It’s not all fun and games.

To conclude, I'll leave you with this. It's from the Bible. "The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God." -- Leviticus 19:34

Oh, and after Moses told everybody what God said in Leviticus, that other guy, Jesus, said “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

That ought to throw some gas on the fire. I’ll save my comparisons between the Israelites and Mexicans in the promised land for another day …