When the explosion thundered through the U.S. Steel’s Clairton Coke Works, Renee Hough thought her life was over.
She was about 500 feet away when the blast went off in August. The experience left her in therapy for her mental health.
Nearly 30 years ago, her job in the male-dominated steel mill gave her the means to leave an abusive marriage. Now, 65 and nearing retirement, Hough — a utility technician coke loader — is still tested by the work.
According to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, women made up just 4.3% of Pennsylvania’s broader construction and trades workforce in 2024, and many of these women’s careers — like Hough’s — are a culmination of the grit and resilience needed to chisel out space in a man’s world.
Women working in the trades face a multitude of challenges doing their jobs everyday.
Here are four of their stories.
Getting women’s boots on the ground
Hough applied to USW Local 1557 at U.S. Steel Clairton Coke Works in 1997 seeking the financial leverage needed to leave her husband. The plant was close enough to walk to for work.
A year later, she was able to get herself and two sons out of their bad living situation. She now resides in Glassport, roughly a 10-minute drive from the plant.
“It was a godsend to get a union position with a pension plan, health insurance and a decent pay enough that I could get out of the situation that I was in,” Hough said.
She started her career shoveling and worked her way up to a less physically demanding position. During Hough’s 12-hour shifts, she remotely operates rail cars on multiple tracks, starting, stopping and monitoring them as they fill up with coke.
“When I first got hired, I heard a lot ‘you’re taking a man’s job,’ ” Hough said.
People would tell her to go home and let her husband work instead.
“But I’m not the kind of person who is going to take anything,” she said. “They know better than to talk to me like that (now).”
While Hough, who is small in frame but not lacking in spunk, developed an unwillingness to be dismissed during her years on the job, she still sees opposition from her male co-workers, who sigh when they hear there is a woman in a group of new hires.
Hough serves as chair of her local’s Women of Steel Committee. When women are first hired, she provides them with an information sheet on where to find 100% cotton clothing and undergarments that will be safe to wear in the heat of the plant.
“Nothing is for women, nothing. I had to fight like crazy to get women’s boots … boots are not unisex. Women’s feet are not made the same as men’s feet,” Hough said.
Since she was first hired, Hough has seen the number of women dwindle from 65 down to 19, she said.
Hough said that physical labor when starting a job at U.S. Steel, safety concerns surrounding the location of the plant and potential blast risks turn women away from a career in the plant.
Following the summer explosion that killed two U.S. Steel workers, Hough – a veteran in the field — weighted early retirement. She ultimately decided to stay to secure her full pension.
“This isn’t for everybody …. when I first started and I’d go home crying, this is hard (work),” she said.
Following in dad’s footsteps
Robyn McGhee, of Level Green, a village in Penn Township, grew up no stranger to a job site.
McGhee spent her summers in Lakeland, Fla., working for her dad’s demolition business from childhood through her teenage years.
At 47, she is the only female instructor at the Western Pennsylvania Operating Engineers Joint Apprenticeship and Training Program — though she once never pictured herself behind the controls of a bulldozer as a career.
She graduated from Penn-Trafford High School in 1997 and took a year off before enrolling in college.
“I had paralyzing anxiety, because I didn’t know what I wanted to do – and it was bad. It was really bad,” McGhee said.
In her 20s, McGhee struggled to find her calling. She pursued degrees in orthotics, prosthetics and earned her cosmetology license, but none of the career paths felt right.
It wasn’t until she was 32 when, on the recommendation of a woman in the union’s office, McGhee filled out an application for Operating Engineers Local 66.
“(I) didn’t think that there was actually a career out there for me in a non-traditional field, and maybe that’s what kept me from pursuing construction,” McGhee said. “I guess we all think that … traditionally, women work in offices, cosmetology … (or) nursing.”
Roughly a decade passed before McGhee’s career took her back to a job site like the one that shaped her childhood. When she told her father she wanted to become an operating engineer, he didn’t hesitate to support her.
Sitting inside her cubicle at the Western Pennsylvania Operating Engineers training facility in New Alexandria, McGhee teared up talking about her dad.
“I spent years trying to find where I felt comfortable and where I belonged, and I finally found it,” McGhee said.
Her father, Jerry Howard, said he remembered how eager she was to work with the big machines.
“She wanted on those things in the worst way,” said Howard, 83. “I’m really proud of her.”
During her apprenticeship, McGhee learned how to operate heavy equipment such as cranes, excavators and her personal favorite — a bulldozer. Now she teaches classes of six to 10 apprentices a day.
As of Jan. 23, Western Pennsylvania Operating Engineers had more than 7,000 members with 197 of them being women. The apprenticeship program had 39 women enrolled, McGhee said.
While McGhee never experienced limited opportunities due to her gender during apprenticeship, she said that it is isolating being the only woman on a job site surrounded by men.
She describes the feeling as a “stage fright” that came with needing to prove her skill before her male co-workers could see beyond that fact that she is a woman.
McGhee, inspired by her own mentor whom she affectionately refers to as “queen of the mountain” during apprenticeship, now works to uplift other women interested in the trades.
“You don’t need to be fearless or fit into a stereotype. If you’re willing to show up, learn and work hard, then you belong here,” she said.
Let the men do the talking
Tenika DeShawn, CEO and owner of Lady Carpenter LLC, started out her construction career attempting to join the carpentry union in 2012.
For her first carpentry job during her apprenticeship, she was placed at the Energy Innovation Center in the Hill District, where she worked on the exterior and metal framing.
“I can remember some of the instructors laughing at me,” said DeShawn, 44, recalling the learning curve she went through on how to handle some of the larger tools. “I’m sure I looked funny, but what got them was I wasn’t afraid to try.”
Despite doing well during the pre-job training assessment prior to the apprenticeship, she was placed on probation by the union. Between the long and inflexible hours, having three daughters and being in the midst of a divorce, DeShawn said she could not keep up with the apprenticeship program’s schedule. She decided that rather than fight to stay in the program, she would make more money instead by taking jobs in the community.
“I acquired a skill that couldn’t have been taken away,” said DeShawn.
In 2016 DeShawn, who lives in Oakland, launched her own carpentry business.
“I started taking jobs from people in the community, mostly other women, who knew I was a carpenter,” DeShawn said. “The small jobs turned into bigger jobs. … I started getting out in the community and taking advantage of some of the small business resources and training.”
DeShawn is the only member of her LLC and has subcontracts with other small businesses that specialize in drywall, plumbing, HVAC and electrical.
Despite owning Lady Carpenter, DeShawn has noticed that often if she is working with men and the contractee is also a man, they will not speak to her.
“I do find myself in situations where I’m the owner and expert (and) I’m with a guy who is just kind of following me around to move heavy stuff, and I’m talking but whoever I’m talking to is looking at him,” DeShawn said.
DeShawn doesn’t let this bother her.
“Whenever that check clears, it’s gonna clear into my bank account … and whenever we sign a contract, my name is gonna be at the top,” she said.
Working harder for respect
Michelle King, a journeymen ironworker for Ironworkers Local 3, wrapped up a monthlong beam restoration project at the Carrie Blast Furnaces, the national historic landmark run by Rivers of Steel in Swissvale.
King, 39, who lives in West Sunbury on a farm with her wife and 17-year-old daughter, has been an ironworker for 14 years.
On Feb. 3, she used a blow torch to cut sections of the old beam for replacement. Sparks sprayed over the side of the construction lift, falling down by the snow and ice.
King had been commuting over an hour each day to work at the site.
“I’m really proud of being on this job. It’s awesome because it’s so historic,” King said.
She graduated from North Hills High School and attended Community College of Allegheny County for welding.
“I like working with my hands for sure,” King said. “I always wanted to be doing something physical and I’ve never been able to sit at a desk all day.”
King worked as a fireman at Allegheny Ludlum Steel Corporation Fire Brigade in Brackenridge for 10 years before interviewing with the union.
“I have met some of the best people working in the trades than I have anywhere else,” King said.
King underwent the three-year apprenticeship program and despite being “not the best test taker,” she graduated as number one in her class.
So far, this has been one of King’s most defining moments and set the tone for the rest of her career and the way she raised her daughter.
She said that knowing what it is like to work in a male-dominated industry has made her want to instill certain values to her daughter – who wants to be a police officer.
“Everybody is equal and everybody should be treated as such,” King said, about her parenting values.
While King said being a woman hasn’t limited the jobs, she does experience a need to continuously work harder to gain respect from her male colleagues.
“I hate saying this, but sometimes it’s like you’re a first-year apprentice all over again, and you have to basically prove yourself over and over and over to the guys that don’t know you,” she said.
King also has to be proactive about ensuring she gets safety equipment, such as harnesses that fit her smaller frame.
“You sort of have to get on them about it. Sometimes that’s a little bit frustrating because safety is what we’re all about. If my life’s in (the harness’) hands, then I want it to be good,” she said.