As Women’s History Month comes to a close, I don’t feel loud.
I feel tender.
Because when I look at my daughter in this business…
I don’t just see her growth.
I see my childhood.
The Smell of My Dad’s Work Truck
Some girls grew up playing house.
I grew up in a work truck.
The seats were cracked vinyl. The air smelled like metal, dust, and freon. There was always a tape measure somewhere between the seats and a pen tucked behind my dad’s ear.
I didn’t understand static pressure.
I didn’t understand airflow calculations.
But I understood something else.
I understood that my dad was proud of what he did.
He didn’t make a big speech about women in trades. He didn’t tell me I was breaking barriers.
He just handed me tools like it was normal.
Like I belonged there.
And that quiet assumption?
It shaped me more than any pep talk ever could.
Back then, I didn’t know the statistics.
I didn’t know that women today still make up roughly 1–2% of HVAC technicians in the United States (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics).
And when I was growing up, that number was even smaller.
In the early 2000s, women in skilled trades — especially HVAC — were nearly invisible. Participation was estimated at well under 1%. There weren’t mentorship programs spotlighting women in mechanical trades. There weren’t recruitment initiatives encouraging young girls to consider careers in HVAC. There weren’t conferences celebrating women-owned mechanical companies.
There were just a handful of women quietly showing up every day.
No applause.
No spotlight.
No hashtags.
Just grit.
So when my dad handed me tools like it was normal, that wasn’t trendy.
It was rare.
Today, the percentage is still small — roughly 1–2% nationally, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics:
https://www.bls.gov/ooh/installation-maintenance-and-repair/home.htm
But here’s what’s changed:
The visibility.
There are now women-in-trades organizations. There are construction conferences highlighting female leaders. There are apprenticeship programs actively recruiting young women. There are daughters who can scroll online and see women running HVAC companies.
When I was little, I didn’t see women leading companies in this industry.
My daughter does.
That shift — even if the numbers look small on paper — changes how wide the door feels.
Her trade journey already looks brighter than mine did — not because it will be easier, but because it’s more visible.
Because she won’t have to carve every inch alone.
Because she won’t question whether she belongs.
She’ll know.
And that kind of progress can’t always be measured in percentages.
Watching History Repeat Itself
Now, decades later, I see my husband in the driver’s seat.
And in the passenger seat?
My daughter.
Same curious eyes.
Same hands reaching for tools.
Same instinct to understand how things work instead of just watching them.
She went from tagging along to changing filters. Swapping capacitors. Testing fuses. Drilling mounts.
She wasn’t playing dress-up.
She was learning a trade most adults are too intimidated to touch.
And then came the summer that changed everything.
The Heatwave That Broke Her (And Built Her)
Last summer, because of staffing shifts, she wasn’t in the field.
She was in the office.
If you’ve never answered phones during a San Diego heatwave, let me paint it for you.
The air conditioners are failing.
Kids are sweating through homework.
Grandparents are uncomfortable.
Tempers are short.
The phone doesn’t ring.
It screams.
And one afternoon, a grown adult unleashed that frustration on my 15-year-old daughter.
They talked down to her.
They questioned her intelligence.
They asked if she was “high.”
She ran into my office mid-meeting.
Crying. Shaking.
“Mom, they’re yelling at me. They want the owner. They want someone NOW.”
In that moment, every protective instinct in me wanted to scoop her up and shield her from the world.
But I also knew something my dad once knew when he let me struggle through something hard:
This was the moment that would either shrink her — or shape her.
We had offered emergency options.
We had given appointment windows.
We cannot teleport technicians.
So I stayed calm.
Later that day she told me, through tears:
“When I needed you to be my mom, you were my boss instead.”
That sentence still sits in my chest.
Because she was right.
From 8–5, I wasn’t just her mom.
I was showing her what leadership looks like under pressure.
And leadership isn’t loud.
It isn’t reactive.
It doesn’t crumble because someone else is emotional.
It stands.
The Moment I Almost Cried
A few weeks later, I overheard her on the phone.
Her voice wasn’t shaky anymore.
It was steady.
“Wait — I’m speaking. I need to finish what I’m saying. Then you can respond and we can discuss it.”
She wasn’t rude.
She wasn’t defensive.
She was firm.
And in that second, I saw three generations standing in one moment.
My dad, handing me tools like I belonged.
My husband, teaching her how to diagnose without fear.
And my daughter — claiming space in a room that historically has not made space for women.
Representation Isn’t a Buzzword
Women represent roughly 1–2% of HVAC technicians nationwide.
Ownership percentages are even smaller.
That means when my daughter looks at this industry, she doesn’t see many women who look like her.
But she sees me.
And when she sees me leading — not shrinking, not apologizing, not explaining why I deserve to be here — something locks in.
Representation isn’t political.
It’s personal.
It’s a daughter realizing she doesn’t have to ask permission to enter a space.
It’s a young woman learning that leadership isn’t about how often you swing the wrench — it’s about how you carry the responsibility.
If you want to explore how women are entering skilled trades nationally, the Department of Labor tracks that here:
https://www.dol.gov/agencies/wb
Working In the Business vs. Building the Business
Let me say something clearly.
Just because I’m not in the field every single day does not make me less knowledgeable.
It means I built something strong enough to grow.
Entrepreneurship evolves.
At some point, if you want longevity, you shift from working in the business to working on the business.
That doesn’t erase your skill set.
It expands your influence.
My dad worked in the business.
My husband worked in the business.
I’ve done both.
Now I lead, strategize, mentor, protect culture, and build sustainability.
And my daughter is watching all of it.
She sees that you can be technical and visionary.
You can be hands-on and high-level.
You can be a woman and not shrink in either role.
Closing Women’s Month With More Than a Caption
As March closes, I’m not celebrating a hashtag.
I’m celebrating a lineage.
A father who never told his daughter she didn’t belong.
A husband who never let his wife minimize herself.
A daughter who is learning to stand steady when the world gets loud.
So can I install?
Yes.
But more importantly — I don’t need that answer to justify my leadership, my voice, or my place in this industry.
And one day, she won’t either.
Because when she steps into a room full of men, she won’t wonder if she belongs there.
She’ll already know.
And if that doesn’t make you believe representation matters…
I don’t know what will.
✨ Andreina Leal-Carrillo
CEO • Mom • Builder of Legacies
The Repair Tech Inc.
📸 See our favorite moments from this season:
www.TheRepairTech.net/gallery
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