Finding My Place and My Voice in Construction

By Carleigh Bell, Director, Pursuits & Preconstruction

I didn’t grow up imagining I’d work in the construction industry. 

It wasn’t on the list of careers people suggested to me, and it certainly wasn’t something I could picture for myself. Like a lot of girls, I was encouraged toward paths that felt safe and familiar. No one ever said, “You’d be great at building things,” so the idea never crossed my mind.

The first time this industry even landed on my radar was during a simple night out. I was sitting in a pub listening to my partner's coworkers talk about their day; coordinating work, solving problems in real time, watching something go from an idea to something tangible. They told stories with this mix of excitement and exhaustion that felt so honest, and I remember thinking, there’s something here. I want to be part of that.

It wasn’t dramatic, but it was a spark—a turning point that changed everything for me.

When I eventually stepped into this industry, I realized very quickly that it’s a world built on momentum; on people coming together to solve big challenges and create something lasting. It’s fast, it’s messy, it’s intense, and I loved it. I didn’t see many people who looked like me in the spaces where decisions were being made, and I’ll be honest it was intimidating at times. There were moments where I wondered if I truly fit, or if people were quietly questioning what I was doing there. It wasn’t discouraging so much as disorienting, but those moments also made me pay attention to how I wanted to show up. Not by trying to blend in or match the energy in the room, but by figuring out how to be myself in a space that wasn’t built with someone like me in mind. Little by little, that’s how I found my footing, and eventually, my place.

As I grew in my career, I learned that leadership in this industry has less to do with titles and more to do with presence. It’s about being calm when everything around you is chaotic. It’s about reading a room, trusting your instincts, and choosing to step forward even when sometimes you’re not the obvious voice people expect to hear. My leadership didn’t need to mirror anyone else’s. It needed to reflect who I am; steady, thoughtful, and unafraid to ask hard questions when they matter.

Over time, construction has slowly begun to look different. More women on sites. More women leading teams. More women finding their voice and using it. Every time I see that happen, I feel the industry stretches a little; becoming stronger, more open, more reflective of the communities we build for.

Of course, there are still moments where I look around and realize I’m the only woman in the room, but that feeling no longer lands as isolation—it lands as my purpose. I know what it felt like to never see anyone who looked like me in this world, and I also know how different my path might have been if I had.

That’s where legacy enters the picture for me; not as a title, or a project, or a single achievement, but as a long chain of moments where someone sees what’s possible because of what you’ve chosen to stand for. If my presence in this industry makes it even a little easier for another girl, another student, or another young woman to imagine herself here, then that’s the kind of legacy I want to leave behind.

My path into this industry wasn’t obvious, and it wasn’t straight, but it shaped me in ways I’m grateful for. It taught me to trust myself, to stay curious, to step into moments even when they stretched me. It showed me that when we open the door just a little wider, we don’t just change one person’s story—we change the story of the industry itself.

With lots of work ahead of us, I’m proud of where our industry is heading, and I’m even more excited for the people who are still on their way in.