Rust: A Memoir of Steel and Grit

by Eliese Colette Goldbach

I valued what the hat represented—I felt a deep affection for the mill and its people, and I knew that I was lucky to be a member of a union—but I was also afraid of what the hard hat meant in my own life. Not only had I fallen short of what my younger self had set out to do, I had also lost the will to keep striving after the ideals that had been so important to me as a child. My hopes of changing the world had morphed into hopes of a bigger salary. My faith in my own potential had withered. Even the hatchback I had purchased at a killer price from the sleazy salesman suggested that I’d lost myself. The girl I used to be would have paid a higher price out of principle, but that girl was hiding somewhere. She had disappeared from view, and I was worried that the long hours in the mill would keep me too distracted to find her again.