"I'm Fine." (It's Been Six Months.)
It’s the most common answer on any jobsite. Somebody asks how it’s going, and the reply comes back automatic: Fine.” “Handled worse.” “Living the dream.” Head down, get through this job, then the next one, then the next one. None of that is exactly a lie. It’s just not always the whole truth, and most of your crew already knows it.
“‘I’m fine.’ ‘It can only get worse.’ ‘Rock bottom.’ ‘Don’t let the hard days win'” — those are the phrases Matt Apperson, health & safety manager at Emery Sapp & Sons, hears most. “If someone’s saying he’s fine, chances are something’s actually not right. That’s the culture most people were raised in: “don’t cry,” “rub some dirt in it, walk it off.”
For some, that mindset becomes more than a coping mechanism. It becomes a barrier to getting help. Cameron Marbles paving manager at Rummel Construction, a veteran who has dealt with PTSD and anxiety, knows exactly how far that mentality can go before it breaks. “I had a panic attack at work. My supervisor called an ambulance,” Cameron said. It took a paramedic, who happened to be a fellow veteran, to ask the question nobody else had, “Had I ever actually talked to anyone about what I was carrying?”
“I used to just take on every task: ‘Yeah, give me more. I’ve got it,'” Cameron said. “It was almost like I was forced to learn how to deal with it because it started affecting me physically.”
For Julian Garcia, driver at Monks Construction, this isn’t theoretical. He lost his brother to suicide. His girlfriend lost her sister the same way. For the past several years, they have run a softball tournament, which offers scholarships for students and spreads awareness about the dangers of suicide. He doesn’t wait for someone to bring something up on his own crew, either.
“I tell everybody every single day, you’re not alone, if you need something, call me,” he said.
That kind of support matters. Jamie Ramirez, a pipe laborer at Achen-Gardner Construction, knows how much weight crew members can carry quietly. “A lot of our people are supporting multiple families, or they’re the only ones working,” he said. “There’s a lot of burden we carry on our shoulders.” He counts on crew members being close enough to notice if something is wrong. “If a guy’s missed a few days or just isn’t himself, we’re together all the time, so you notice,” he said. To stay level, Jamie prioritizes time with his son, cooking, golfing, and stepping back enough to reflect. “It takes practice and time to develop tools to deal with your mental health, especially for people in this industry.”
What actually works isn’t always a program or a poster. It’s someone noticing when a crew member is off, and not accepting “fine” as an answer. Matt makes a point to share his story during orientation and onboarding. As a result, employee-owners often approach him, to share their own experiences. Cameron does it as a manager, watching for the ones who always say “I’ve got it.” Jamie does it by flagging interactions to a superintendent when he thinks something is wrong. Julian does it by offering himself as a resource everyday. It doesn’t take much. It just takes somebody willing to ask twice.
Everyone thinks they have to get through it alone but a crew is a team for a reason, and pretending to have it handled forever isn’t actually a plan.
If you or someone you know is in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline for free, confidential support 24/7.
