Warehouse Barbie

The past two summers, I worked in a real warehouse, huge machinery, a loading dock full of 18-wheelers, and nonstop deadlines. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I’m almost six feet tall, a collegiate athlete, and I lift every day. Why wouldn’t I be able to drive a forklift and load trucks? But I quickly learned success in that environment wasn’t about strength alone. It required organization, keeping track of multiple packed trucks, and making sure everything moved efficiently and safely.

As the only woman among male interns, truck drivers, and mechanics, I was constantly tested. Drivers often looked to the other male interns to take charge, while I faced daily comments—“look out, angry woman coming through,” endless “women driver” jokes, and remarks about my body. As a female athlete, I was used to taunts and comparisons, but instead of letting it get to me, I focused on the work.

I stayed on top of schedules, prioritized which trucks needed loading first, and made sure tasks flowed so riders would receive their food and medical supplies on time during event weekends. I proved myself by being reliable and organized: I drove trucks, ran forklifts, and coordinated workflow so nothing slipped.

By the end of the summer, “warehouse Barbie” had been replaced with “boss,” a title I earned throughout the summer in the male dominant warehouse. That respect didn’t come from ignoring the challenges, but from showing that despite the noise and doubt, I could manage complex tasks, keep people moving, and get the job done, all while bringing energy and humor to the warehouse every day.