Female Firefighters: Fighting for Their Place in Fire & Rescue

Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult. -Charlotte Whitton
Nothing frustrates me more then the firefighter that believes women don’t belong in the fire service. Now, I am not one of those “die hard” feminists. I don’t believe women are better then men at everything. I don’t believe that women should be held in higher regard then men. But I do believe that I am equal to my male counterparts, and it seriously aggravates me when I have to deal with the nay-sayers.
I finished the fire academy, near the top of my class, just
like the men. I graduated paramedic school, at the top of my class, just like
the men. So why do I constantly have to prove myself?
This is an ongoing battle, and all my sisters can probably
give me a shout-out here. Out of all the frustration though, nothing upsets me
more than when I have to deal with it at my own department. We were knee-deep
in RIT training, discussing and trying different ways to pull someone out by
using their SCBA harness.
There were several of us there: myself, another female in
the department, “Sara,” and eight or so of my male co-workers. We just finished
watching a demonstration given by an RIT instructor who is in our department.
He then pointed to each of the men, having them copy the
exercise he just completed. He then got to me and Sara and said, “Why don’t the
two of you do this together?” Sara and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised.
She then turned to the instructor and asked, “Why?” The answer we received floored me. “Because neither one of
you can do this on your own.”
I am sure the anger on our faces was evident. I heard one of
the men whisper “Woah,” under his breath. The guy on the floor, pretending to
be down, visibly cringed. Of course our co-workers knew what we were capable of
doing. All of our c-oworkers but the instructor.
Sara stepped toward the man down and went to work without
another word spoken. After she was finished, she turned to me and said,
“Kristen, it’s your turn.” I then did what I needed to do, with no help from
anyone else. When I was finished, I walked out of the apparatus bay, Sara on my
heels. I quietly doffed my gear, not trusting myself to talk. Have
I not proved myself enough at this department? Did I not graduate the academy
with half of the people standing out there? Have I not, time and time again,
done the obstacle courses that are regularly set up? Do I not work out often
enough, at the firehouse no less, so I can stay in great physical condition?
After a few deep and calming breaths I walked back out onto
the apparatus floor without my gear, and watched the rest of the demonstration.
Sara eventually joined me, no gear as well. No one said anything to us. Once
the training was over, Sara and I donned our gear once more and ran through
everything else we missed together.
Now, did we handle the situation appropriately? Probably
not. This particular instructor has let us know on many occasions he is
displeased that women are a part of the fire service. He very rarely misses an
opportunity to let us know in what ways he believes we are inferior.
That day for me was my breaking point. Walking away for me
was better then anything I would have said.
I am aware of the physical differences between men and
women. Men generally have stronger upper bodies, women have stronger lower
bodies. Women generally last longer on air then men do. Men have the brute
strength most women lack.
I may do something slightly different then a man, but I can
still do the task, and complete it, in the same amount of time. Work smarter,
not harder.
I am also aware that I may always have to fight this battle.
This is the career I chose for myself, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
But know this: I am fully capable of pulling you out of a fire, carrying you
down a ladder, and saving your butt if the situation calls for it.
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