Women training in building trades find it difficult to be taken seriously by the male-dominated industry. Susan McKay reports
Its glossy Strategic Development Plan states that Women's Tec aims to become the largest quality provider of training for women in non-traditional skills in Northern Ireland, but it has catchier ways of describing its ambitions, such as, "Changing the shape of builders' bums!"
The project, based on the peaceline in north Belfast, is training women to work in the construction industry, one of the North's many male bastions.
"I was in the Women's Aid refuge and we did a summer course with Women's Tec - plumbing, bricklaying, tiling and joinery," says Angela Harper.
"I loved the joining and just decided to go on and do it. Before this, I was at home full time with my kids. At first when I started the course, I was going, 'I can't do this'. Now I know I can - it's a big boost to my confidence."
Women's Tec has been around since 1989, running 10-week courses in a wide range of subjects. But it is only in the past year that it has started the Changing Places, Citywide project, putting women through full professional training programmes at the Belfast Institute for Further Education (BIFE).
"We needed to mainstream it," says Helen Crickard, the project manager. "There is an acute shortage of workers in the industry, and with all the new building projects coming up in Belfast, there's going to be plenty of work."
Last week, ambitious plans were announced for the Titanic Quarter of Belfast. This will be a huge construction project, with potentially thousands of construction jobs. At present, women make up 7 per cent of workers in the industry, but this figure includes architects and planners.
Skilled tradespeople are still 97 per cent male. The future could be lucrative for the Women's Tec trainees.
Crickard trained as a joiner at BIFE in the 1980s. "I was the only girl in the class back then, and there have only been three women on that course since then. There have been none in plumbing, bricklaying or plastering."
It still isn't easy. Victor Henry, centre manager for the building trades at BIFE, admits it can be hard to find building companies willing to take on women workers on placement, a necessary part of the training.
"The problem is a historical perception that the building trade is a male domain," he says. "Northern Ireland is very traditional. They just can't see women in steel-toed boots and hard hats.
"But personally, I think it is the way to go. There are a lot of east Europeans on the sites now, and the other obvious source of workers is women. It takes a certain calibre of woman to be willing to go out into a dirty, wet building site. The little girls that run about as fashion victims won't be seen there."
Henry's next observation is controversial. "The women have the ability to develop the skills, but they may be a bit slower than the men," he says.
The women don't think so. "There's four of us in the joinery class and 16 boys," says Harper. "The tutor has told us we are well ahead of them. Yet all of them have placements with employers and they are being paid. All the resources go into men. They seem to think women will cause trouble. You have to fight every stage of the way."
Sheela Ashburn says she feels intimidated when the guys at her placement hang out the windows staring as the women go by, but it isn't going to put her off.
"I'm 52 and I've always been interested in woodwork, but I would have been too intimidated to enrol in a class on my own. The fact that there is four of us on the course means we can be very supportive of one another. It is wonderful. I love watching the mastercraftsmen and I'm learning a lot. I love it.
"Just because women haven't traditionally done these jobs, doesn't mean they can't. Putting together a piece of furniture is just the same as putting together a garment, and women have always made clothes. The machines we work with are no more complicated than washing machines."
Clare Morgan is learning electrics and is the only woman in a class of 30.
"The first day I went in, there was a bit of shouting and a guy called out, 'I'll give her a lift home in my Renault Clio'. Then he asked me to sit beside him. I just said, 'No, you're all right'. I haven't had any trouble, really. I'm stubborn, anyway. I'll do things to prove to myself I can do them.
"I was always the one in our house to fix everything, even my kids' TV. I did a half hour of training at tiling and went home and tiled my bathroom.
"When you know you can do something, you have to just not listen to other people's opinions," adds Morgan. "People lead sheltered lives. They don't want to believe women can do the things they can do."
Crucially, Women's Tec has a free creche, and advises trainees on how their rights to benefits are affected by moving into training and work. It still runs its short courses, as well as courses leading to a National Vocataional Qualification (NVQ) in horticulture. It has also set up a directory of tradeswomen, because there is a demand for women to do work for women, and for community and women's projects.
"A lot of women want a woman worker because they feel they won't be ripped off," says Crickard.
Early next year, it will launch its own construction company. "We want to be independent," she says.
Another programme run by Women's Tec is Girl Power, which introduces schoolgirls to non-traditional training and offers careers advice.
"A lot of young women still have very conventional ideas of what they want to be. A lot of them want to be beauticians," says Ashburn. "They're into manicuring their nails."
We all look at our hands. The hands of working women. Not a manicured nail among them.
Crickard points to a large stack of boxes in the project's smart, modern premises on Duncairn Gardens.
"Those are tools that have been given to us," she says. "There are chop saws, soldering irons, welding equipment and blow torches. All our new toys. We can't wait to get at them."