Structural Education by Jasmine Hur

Structural Education

Jasmine Hur

To Skanska, and everyone who took the time to explain an acronym or technical term, walked me through a construction site, answered my questions, invited me to lunch, and showed genuined interest in me.

A special thank you to Ashley Jeffery, my mentor and supervisor who has set me up for success all summer and believed in my potential.

Introduction

Construction, on its surface, evokes a masculine, blue-collared ruggedness, an image of true American hard work, the kind that requires grit and exposure to sun, dirt, and dust. It summons the smog of the Industrial Revolution and the matted hands that built the foundations of American infrastructure. It reminds me of blocked-off roads and the way it can inconvenience everyday life for what seems like no progress until one day, there is a new building I walk past like it was always there. Interning at Skanska has not proven otherwise. Rather, it has done something more complicated, less conventional, something of more value than just upending my preconceptions or clarifying my career outlook.

I was initially drawn to this internship because it aligned with my previous experiences: writing articles, editing videos, being part of a communications team, promoting an organization through written material. Though I had a firm grasp on these skills, I did not know how they fit into a construction company or more importantly, how I fit in.

In between the large cranes and the hot metal, where was the space for my liberal arts education where “construction” and “structure” existed only in the context of sentences?

During my interview with my future supervisor Ashley Jeffery, one of the first questions I asked her was how she ended up at Skanska. She previously worked in the healthcare sector, and we shared a similar background in journalism. She was a storyteller, she said, and all industries need someone to tell their story, to lasso the big projects and technical details into a narrative. This struck me. I knew I enjoyed writing personal essays about swimming in random pools with my friends or my evolving perception of fraternities, but I also knew writing these essays were events themselves, taking form from an occasional, flashy moment of inspiration, not from a steady stream of good ideas. Working in communications would allow me to write the pieces of an established but continuous story larger than myself.

During the first days of my internship, I gained a sense of Skanska’s story by browsing the website and meeting team members in the office, online, and on sites. The process of learning and adapting

is an ongoing one—like the story itself—but Skanska’s ethos and narrative became clearer each day: a construction and development firm building safe, sustainable structures. It was founded in Sweden and expanded internationally, yet it is rooted in its strong ties with the local, immediate community. Though its employees are dispersed globally in offices and on job sites, collaboration closes the physical distance. It is well-established and respected in the construction industry. The cornerstone of all this is a Better Together motto that cultivates a vibrant and inclusive workplace culture, where employees, customers and partners feel valued.

I became a part of Skanska’s story by building it. Perhaps not in the literal sense like the engineers do, but by developing written and visual materials that promote our people and projects. One of my first projects was to write a press release for a new supplier diversity manager in the North Carolina and Virginia region. I did not know what “supplier diversity” meant and googled various acronyms scattered throughout his resume, like HUB (Historically Underutilized Businesses) and DBE (Disadvantaged Business Enterprise). However, my experience writing articles and press releases for Florida State University News prepared me to write short, concise profiles in AP format.

This assignment was the first of many encounters with the versatility of my liberal arts education and experience. I pulled from my experiences interviewing students as a news intern to write Q&A pieces about fellow Skanska interns for the internal newsletter Skanska Scoop. The close readings of Emily Dickinson poetry and manuscripts refined my attention to word choice and arrangement, skills that directly translated to developing materials expected to be picked apart like media pitches and press releases. But the most important application of my education to my internship at Skanska was how it helped me realize what was happening to me.

My Feminist Theory class last fall introduced me to existential thought. We read French philosopher Simone de Beauvoir’s book “The Second Sex,” where she famously says, “One is not born but becomes a woman.” At the time, I had a deft grasp of the difference between sex and gender and how social norms shaped women’s lives and behavior. I had not, however, considered the oppression of women as an existential struggle. According to existential thought, human beings possess the agency to define their destiny and character through

ustries need someone to tell their story, to lasso the big projects and technical details into a narrative. This struck me. I knew I enjoyed writing personal essays about swimming in random pools with my friends and growing up in a Korean American church, and I also knew writing these essays were events themselves, taking form from an occasional, flashy moment of inspiration, not frustries need someone to tell their story, to lasso the big projects and technical details into a narrative. This struck me. I knew I enjoyed writing personal essays about swimming in random pools with my friends and growing up in a Korean American church, and I also knew writing these essays were events themselves, taking form from an occasional, flashy moment of inspiration, not fr

action. The struggle occurs when individual actions and and desires do not align with our situation and social codes, specifically the woman situation for de Beauvoir, but to transcend such hinderances, that is existential freedom.

I found this idea of agency and “existence preceding essence” intriguing, but interning at Skanska made me realize the breadth of this philosophy. I had always imagined a career in the arts and culture sector for myself. This was where I fit in because I read books—though not as many as I should—and because I never liked STEM subjects and at the risk of sounding vain, I have good taste. I began this internship with the intention of gaining the communication and strategy experience to build a career in a more fitting, more “me” industry.

I learned more about construction as the summer progressed. I was exposed to the planning required with team members and outside agencies to pursue new projects and promote the success of existing ones. I visited construction sites, wore PPE and became familiar with the intention and the people involved with building the kind of structures I see every day. I saw concrete pours and ate lunch with project engineers and superintendents building schools, hospitals and recreation centers.

globally in offices and on job sites, collaboration closes the physical distance. It is well-established and respected in the construction industry. The cornerstone of all this is an inclusive culture, one that incorporates and values the perspectives of its employees, customers, partn

It was initially challenging to understand how I could contribute to such large, physical projects, but I found fulfillment in telling their stories and building upon Skanska’s. I enjoyed it. And if I could enjoy working in an industry I never considered— and was good at it—what else could I enjoy? Where else could I be good? I could feel my world and potential expanding, and I gradually became aware of the agency I possess to define myself and my future.

There is no industry or identity inherently more fitting for me; this is a choice I make every day through my actions.

“Structural Education” reflects how my world expanded, curated by the skills I brought and sharpened at Skanska. These site visits were a holistic education in what the people on our sites and in our offices collectively work toward: building strong, sustainable buildings. They also served as a reminder that I do not know everything, and that there is a lot I do not know. Conversely, for others, what happens on construction sites might be normal and routine. Using the Skanska Brand Hub and the visual storytelling skills I developed this

summer, I showcased what these sites looked like to me, a newcomer’s wide-eyed perspective of the great work happening on Skanska projects. I hope this perspective can be refreshing to those often too busy building these projects to step back and look at their work.

One of the greatest services someone or something can do for you is to make you think about new things—or think about old things in new ways. My summer at Skanska has made me think about concrete cold joints and how the media knows when and where to show up, but this was only made possible by the wonderful people who answered my incessant questions. Thank you to Ashley, my mentor who taught me the value of storytelling everywhere, and those who allowed me to tell their story.

-Jasmine Hur

Center

Above: Grady Freeman, superintendent.

Newsome High School

Above: Angelica Rodriguez, assistant project manager. Ali Badr, project engineer intern.

From left to right: Darryl Salustro, senior project manager. Angelica Rodriguez, assistant project manager. Ashley Jeffery, regional Southeast communications manager.

Below: Ken Knoop, senior superintendent. Ali Badr, project engineer intern

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Above: Jonathan Budde, senior project manager

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Jasmine Hur is a writer and storyteller living in Tallahassee, Florida. Hur’s work spans essays, film, photography, graphic design and journalism with recurring themes of memory, love, friendship, inebriation, paying attention to the mundane and the muddy intersection where they meet. Her upcoming honors thesis “Binaries Within Binaries” revisits Donna Haraway’s A Cyborg Manifesto in the face of technological gender essentialism. She will graduate from Florida State University in May 2025 with a Bachelor of Arts in English.

She has wanted to leave Florida her whole life, but something has always kept her here. After graduation, she plans on teaching English in Madrid, Spain for six months.

Structural Education