The name is Penny O'Hara, and I'm a construction manager with Renard Engineering, a general contractor that does a lot of business in downtown Ottawa, Ontario. You don't see a lot of women working in construction, and you see even fewer in construction management. I was born in the town of Perth, Ontario, to a provincial police officer, Winston O'Hara, and a schoolteacher, Gwendolyn Stuart. My father raised me to be fearless, encouraging me in my tomboy streak and my pursuit of non-traditionally feminine interests. I am every bit my father's daughter, folks.
I grew up to be six feet three inches tall, athletic and fit, with alabaster skin, brown eyes and long black hair. My friends call me Tall Penny, or Penny The Amazon. Yes, it's because I am a tall female. Get used to it. I attended the University of Ottawa, graduating with a bachelor's degree in commerce in the summer of 2006. I was twenty two years old at the time. I couldn't find work in my field, and ended up walking onto a construction site owned by Renard Engineering. That's when destiny called, folks.
The owner, Michael Renard, happened to be on site that day, and he was impressed by a ballsy chick like me. I quickly proved myself, for I had trade school training thanks to my father, who became a trade school instructor after retiring from the Ontario provincial police force. I became a construction worker, and I proved myself to the men by my skill and expertise, and also the fact that I wouldn't hesitate to get in a guy's face if he dared talk down to me. Female does not equal weak and submissive in the world of construction work, folks.
Construction work across Canada and much of North America has always been a mostly white, male occupation. A lot of these white guys working in construction are backwards in their attitude toward women and racial minorities, but not all of them. You'll find lots of decent, friendly and hard-working men in the construction field. I've met guys of every color, every religion you can think of, and they treat each other like a brotherhood. I love what I do, and I get along with most of the guys I work with. Life is good.
Alright, I might have exaggerated that last part. These days, folks, my life is in shambles. For the past three years I'd been dating this guy named Lionel Rosenthal. Tall, handsome and smart, with alabaster skin, lime-green eyes and curly dark hair, Lionel and I met while I was doing some contract work for an engineering company in the City of Thunder Bay, Ontario. Lionel and I totally hit it off, even though I don't make it a habit to date guys I meet on the job. Lionel is Jewish and I was raised Catholic, I didn't think that would be a problem but it proved to be, at least for his family.
When Lionel met my parents, they loved him and I thought everything would be fine. My father in particular thought Lionel was a fine gentleman and saw a lot of himself in him. I can't tell you how happy that made me. I thought that my tall and handsome Lionel, the McGill-educated civil engineer, would be mine and we'd live happily ever after. I'm a die-hard tomboy but I even started wearing skirts just to please Lionel. I loved that guy something fierce, and unfortunately it wasn't enough.
Lionel's parents, Mariam and Samuel Rosenthal are Jewish. Actually, they're not just Jewish, they're from the rather conservative Orthodox branch of Judaism. Prior to meeting Lionel Rosenthal and his family, I didn't know much about Judaism, to tell you the truth. I didn't know that Jewish guys aren't allowed to marry women from other religions. My cousin Jasmine who lives out in the City of Montreal, Quebec, is just as Catholic as I am and she's married to Ali, a Muslim guy from Morocco.
