How to Build Walls

Before coming to New Orleans, behind my walls or under the floor was a complete mystery. I’ve never once found studs successfully, but I have put countless holes in my walls trying to hang some giant, plywood-backed poster of a black panther.

Now, after months of nailing, blocking, taping, mudding, sanding, mudding again, sanding, and painting—I have a much greater respect for and understanding of THE WALLS. Mostly because I now realize how easy it is to screw them up.

My first experience mudding and sanding drywall is with the Episcopal Diocese Office of Disaster Response. I already knew that drywall goes up in four-by-eight foot sheets because I’d helped to unload several palates with Habitat for Humanity. However, Habitat subcontracts its drywall and I’ve heard from plenty of staff that it’s tricky to cut and what takes volunteers two weeks can be done by professionals in a day or two. But when you’re mostly working with volunteers on interiors of homes—as you are with rebuilds compared to the new building Habitat does–it just makes sense to have them hanging, taping, mudding and sanding drywall.

See, the thing about floating sheet rock (drywall) that’s difficult, and that I had never thought about, is making the seams go away. Turns out you do that with a funny sort of tape stuck to, and then covered with, layer upon layer of “mud.” Mud, or joint compound, is basically wet, sticky clay that you spread on the walls with a knife—about four inches wide for the first layer and progressively larger as you layer–and it’s used to fill in screw holes and cover drywall tape.

With the Episcopal Diocese we were doing final coat mudding and sanding. I was working with a church group from Florida and staying motivated to cover, sand, recover, and resand any visible hole or tape was by far the biggest challenge. We moved in a cloud of drywall dust from all the sanding and piles of scraped mud collected around our feet. Layer on too much mud, or layer unevenly, and you’d have to sand once it dried, too little and you’d need to add another layer. I’d comb the ceiling and walls for uneven spots, visible tape, or a ridge in need of sanding, think, no, swear, I’d gotten everything just to have the house captain come by and point out a some little spot of tape or screw hole that needed to be covered.

At the end of the week, our house captain put the whole exhausting and sometimes discouraging activity in perspective. “I know you’re tired, but as we work, you’ve just got to remember why we’re here and that’s because of the homeowner. Imagine the homeowner having guests over for dinner at the house. You want them to be proud of the work here and proud to entertain in the home. People only notice bad walls.”

But that was just an introduction to walls. I got a much more comprehensive education when I worked on second and third coat mudding with the St. Bernard Project. They were in the middle of a huge push to get a bunch of people home before Christmas. That prospect motivated the crew chiefs and volunteers to mud until my shoulder was so tired I could barely hold my knife. And again, it was never done. I learned to mud corners one side at a time and to use a progressively bigger knife as we put on second and third coat and I was again reminded how important it is to make walls look perfect–seamless, if you will.

All this experience made it easier for me to help Joe with a drywall patch at the Catholic Worker House a few weeks ago. It’s proof that sticking around and developing your skills can make you a more valuable volunteer. Helping to drywall homes—or fix existing walls—is exciting because it’s end-stage work. By the time you’re mudding and sanding, the house has taken form and you can see the move-in approaching.

Walls have pretty obvious symbolic meaning—they lend structure your domestic life, keep you safe and make the clear distinction between a frame and a home—but for a lot of people out here the presence or absence of walls is the difference between living in an abandoned or gutted building and living in a home. Of course you can have walls without electricity, heat or water, but not without windows or a roof. When predatory contractors came into the city, a lot of them just put up walls over molding frames and invited residents back home into rotting houses.

The home besides being a basic human right and need represents security, stability and safety. Its crucial parts then–walls, roof, floor and windows–also become not only materially necessary but emblematic of well-being and comfort.

[I guess walls also function to keep people outside, but, yeah, that's another reading for another time....]

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