Unheard of! There hasn't been a girl in the shop since WW2's Rosie the Riveter! Are you nuts?
"Yeah, I guess, kinda. Just thought I should learn how to weld since it is something that sculptors do"
http://www.rosietheriveter.org/
So I got my way and one guy got his way to eat free food in Home Ec class. I'm not sure if it was a trade off or not because politics wasn't my concern.
Me and the guys sat through some boring lectures and took a couple of tests and then were allowed to enter the realm of the imaginable. We dressed in fire repellant coveralls, clumsy gloves and heavy helmets with blinding face shields. The shop teacher taught us to handle the tools needed to bend and cut pieces of iron and the only hard part was working with all of the protective gear. We learned to cut through iron with a torch and how to weld with both acetylene and electric equipment.
I loved this world away from the rest of high school drama. All you could see with the helmet on and the shield down was the bright light of the sparks as they flew and bounced in all directions.
One day as I was thinking about how good I was getting at this new skill another student yelled out, "Fire!" I stopped and threw off my helmet and looked around but didn't see anything. It always smelled like fire in the shop with the flames dancing around.
"There! Your feet!" he yelled and I looked down and we both started jumping up and down on my ragged edged bell bottom jeans that protruded from the coveralls. The flames licked my ankles and encircled my feet.
The fire was out but my jeans kept smoldering away so someone grabbed a hose and soaked my feet and that was the end of the most exiting day in shop class. Glad I wore all that protective gear!
The rest of the day in that other world of high school classes I wore my trendy bell bottom jeans with the blackened ragged edge that smelled a little like charcoal.
"Yeah, I guess, kinda. Just thought I should learn how to weld since it is something that sculptors do"
So I got my way and one guy got his way to eat free food in Home Ec class. I'm not sure if it was a trade off or not because politics wasn't my concern.
Me and the guys sat through some boring lectures and took a couple of tests and then were allowed to enter the realm of the imaginable. We dressed in fire repellant coveralls, clumsy gloves and heavy helmets with blinding face shields. The shop teacher taught us to handle the tools needed to bend and cut pieces of iron and the only hard part was working with all of the protective gear. We learned to cut through iron with a torch and how to weld with both acetylene and electric equipment.
I loved this world away from the rest of high school drama. All you could see with the helmet on and the shield down was the bright light of the sparks as they flew and bounced in all directions.
"There! Your feet!" he yelled and I looked down and we both started jumping up and down on my ragged edged bell bottom jeans that protruded from the coveralls. The flames licked my ankles and encircled my feet.
The fire was out but my jeans kept smoldering away so someone grabbed a hose and soaked my feet and that was the end of the most exiting day in shop class. Glad I wore all that protective gear!
The rest of the day in that other world of high school classes I wore my trendy bell bottom jeans with the blackened ragged edge that smelled a little like charcoal.
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