STOPPING TRAFFIC
Tayla’s paddle power
Ioriginally wanted to be a vet, but I had to drop out of school when I was 16 after I was accidentally kicked in the head at cheerleading practice and got really bad concussion.
I’d had other concussions from snowboarding, so it all just built up and when the cheerleading incident happened, everything went downhill. I could barely remember anything and had to do a lot of rehabilitation.
My family has always been involved with traffic. My dad Darren does a lot of management work for the New Zealand Transport Agency and Capital Journeys, which looks after the Wellington state highway network. My mum Andrea has been a traffic management supervisor.
From about the age of 13,
I’d be in the car with Dad when he was auditing sites, picking up on things he was saying and giving my two cents’ worth. When I needed a job, it seemed a natural fit, so I joined the company Mum was working for.
One of my four sisters also worked with my mother, and Mum hooked another sister up with a guy who was working with us and they now have two kids. My partner Liam runs a mobile asphalt plant, so it’s quite hard not to talk traffic when we’re together!
Traffic controllers (TCs) are the ones you commonly see on the paddle (the stop/go sign). They also help the site supervisor (STMS) set up signage and other equipment needed to mark out the area and the cones.
You can never predict how a motorist is going to act, but impatient drivers are the main issue. Being on the paddle, you’re definitely in the firing line – we are constantly getting sworn at, being told to get a ‘real job’ and being blamed for what the contractor is doing on the road. We have no control over that; we’re there to ensure everyone is happy, stays safe and gets home.
Some people drive straight past you when you’re on the paddle – all the cones are there, all the signs are there, you’re there with the paddle saying stop and they drive straight through. Honestly, it blows my mind. You need patience and a good sense of humour, and you learn to bite your tongue pretty fast too.
But you also meet some really lovely people. Once, when we were putting in a roundabout at quite a busy intersection in
Paraparaumu, there was this elderly lady who every morning at 11 would bring down scones with jam and marg. Those sorts of things make your day.
Yes, it can get a bit boring, but if you’re with a good crew the time goes pretty fast and there’s different games you can play while you’re on the paddle, like making sentences with the letters on number plates.
I was on the paddle at the Pride Parade in Wellington earlier this month. I have a sister who is gay and she got married recently, so I felt quite privileged to be part of it, although I didn’t feel dressed up enough!
Someone apparently filmed me dancing – if there’s some music playing, there’s nothing stopping me from having a boogie! It seems to make people happy if all they’re doing is sitting in their car watching traffic coming through.
A lot of the jobs are weather
TAYLA VARCOE (19) IS A STOP/GO OPERATOR IN WELLINGTON
dependent, which is why there’s always a lot happening in summer. When you’re out there 12 to 13 hours on a paddle in steel caps, long pants, long sleeves, a hard hat and safety glasses, it can get pretty hot.
Still, since starting as a traffic management consultant – writing up and designing plans – I’ll look out of the office window on a sunny day and think, ‘Wow, I wish I was out on site.’
It was quite hard stepping into an industry that’s so maledominated. It can be very intimidating and frustrating being told to stay in the truck ‘and the boys will do it’.
It’s hard to penetrate the little groups the men have, to have a conversation and a laugh, but once you cross that barrier, it becomes a family.
All of a sudden, it’s like you have a whole lot of brothers.
It’s given me confidence and shows that girls can do just as much in the industry as men can.”
As told to Julie Jacobson