By Sara Rathbun
The quake hit just after the morning commute. A multi-story commercial structure had collapsed, trapping dozens inside. Urban search and rescue (USAR) crews swarmed the site, organizing assignments and unloading apparatus, as public works engineers assessed structural integrity.
Two USAR firefighter-paramedics stood side by side at the edge of the rubble, performing final safety checks on each other. Both were seasoned rescuers, trained to the same standard, wearing the same gear. One was a 6'4", 250-pound man, broad-shouldered and powerful. The other a 5'2", 135-pound woman, lean, quick and compact.
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The rescue group supervisor made the logical call: The smaller firefighter would enter the collapsed void to reach a reported victim trapped in a narrow crawl space. Time mattered. Every minute lost in breaching or widening an opening was a minute the patient’s survival might be compromised, or crush syndrome would set in.
The rescuer crawled forward with her tool and headlamp, helmet scraping overhead as she pushed the med bag ahead of her into the cramped passage. Her partner waited with a tagline at the entrance and prepared patient packaging materials. Within the first few yards, her pants snagged at the knees, the deep rise cut into her hips, and the extra bulk in her coat sleeve caught on jagged rebar.
She cursed under her breath. None of this was about her strength, stamina or training. It was about her PPE — the fact that it was simply a shrunken version of what was built for the man standing outside the tunnel.
The right tool for the job
In this scenario, the smaller firefighter isn’t the liability; she’s the clear asset. Her stature gives the team an operational advantage. The problem isn’t her capability; it’s that her tools and uniform weren’t designed with her body in mind.
Imagine if we sent the 6'4", 250-pound rescuer into the same void. He might be forced to back out, go around, search for other access or even burn precious minutes with an air chisel to widen the entry point. That delay could cost a life. In contrast, the smaller rescuer is the best match for the mission — but only if her gear allows her to move freely and safely.
Addressing ill-fitting PPE for women is not about accommodation or politics. It’s about removing arbitrary barriers so every firefighter can bring their full potential to the job.
The gear gap: What the data shows
Ill-fitting turnout gear is more than uncomfortable — it directly undermines effectiveness and safety. Research led by Dr. Meredith McQuerry at Florida State University provides a sobering picture:
- 80% of female firefighters report fit problems with PPE.
- Women are 33% more likely to be injured on duty, with ill-fitting gear as a contributing factor.
- Between 15–21% of women admit they sometimes skip elements of their PPE because poor fit makes it unusable.
Dr. McQuerry’s FEMA-funded studies, reinforced by NFPA reports, further show that critical interface areas — wrists, neck, waist and ankles — are often left exposed when patterns are simply scaled down from male designs. Specifically, when pants sag or restrict, when coat sleeves pool and snag, mobility is reduced. Firefighters waste energy wrestling fabric instead of executing rescues. Worst of all, these gaps open pathways for carcinogens, heat and smoke — the very things PPE is meant to block.
Another striking finding: The smallest standard wildland and structural gear sizes are still larger than the measurements of nearly every woman in McQuerry’s sample of 189 female firefighters. Wrists, ankles, hip-to-waist ratios — all fall outside current design specs.
And it’s not just about turnout coats and pants. Gloves, boots, SCBA straps and even station uniforms are typically patterned for men, leaving women to “make do” with whatever comes closest.
This isn’t just a sizing problem — it’s a culture problem. When gear is marketed as “unisex” but designed on male patterns, women are implicitly told they are outsiders, expected to adapt themselves to the job rather than the job adapting to its workforce.
Beyond gear: The broader equity landscape
The confined space rescue is a vivid case study, but the gear gap is only one piece of a larger equity puzzle. True evening of the playing field in the fire service requires going beyond gear to consider training, facilities, family policies, and mentorship:
- Training: If instructors assume a one-size-fits-all teaching approach, recruits who come from different physical or cultural backgrounds may be unfairly labeled as underperforming. Training methods should be as diverse as the strengths, heights and learning styles of the recruits.
- Facilities: Women often face awkward or inadequate arrangements for restrooms, dorms and showers. Each “workaround” chips away at their sense of belonging and professionalism, and the situation is often just as uncomfortable for their male counterparts. Federal requirements exist, but many departments lag in implementation.
- Parental leave and lactation: Without clear, supportive policies, firefighters — men and women alike — feel pressure to choose between family and career. Alternative and varied work schedules and a focus on reproductive health for all genders are critical to care for a workforce seeing increasing fertility issues in addition to unique childcare needs.
- Mentorship and networks: Access to professional networks and mentorship often determines who advances into leadership roles. Formal programs help ensure equal access to exposure opportunities.
Each of these areas mirrors the same principle: Equity doesn’t mean different standards — it means fair conditions to perform at the same standard.
After the rescue
Picture our two firefighters again. The semi-conscious quake victim is pinned by a concrete I-beam. The smaller firefighter squeezes through the narrow opening, clears debris and begins her patient assessment, performing life-threatening interventions as she finds them. She communicates needed equipment back to her partner, who sends it inside along the tag line. Their training and teamwork kicks in flawlessly, and soon a line is established, the beam is secured with an airbag, and the patient is free.
But as she prepares to package and drag the patient, her gloves, the smallest size available, catch on the straps, too loose for her hands. She finally secures the patient in a Yates, reassuring him, and carefully moving him through the rubble. Her pants ride low, forcing her to stop and adjust, mid-drag. Her oversized boots jam against broken concrete and the heels pull away from her feet. She is making progress, but every snag, every slip, every wasted ounce of energy is a tax on the overall rescue — imposed not by her ability, but by her gear.
Unfortunately, these delays are going to add up, and follow her throughout her career. There will be whispers about her strength, her capability and doubts regarding her skills. Even some of her taller, lankier, more “male-shaped” female colleagues will wonder what is wrong with her that she can’t do the same job they can, and the rumor mill will take on even more fuel, affecting her professional reputation and her morale.
The cost of inaction
Failure to address this “gear gap” carries steep costs:
- Operational efficiency: Every delay caused by gear or cultural barriers is a delay in rescue or suppression.
- Safety: Ill-fitting gear encourages “modifications” that often take that PPE out of compliance, and liability risks increase.
- Health: Gaps in PPE increase exposure to carcinogens. Firefighters already face higher cancer rates; inequitable gear only compounds the risk.
- Trust and morale: When women see that their departments won’t invest in proper gear or equitable policies, they read the message as: “You don’t belong here.”
What departments can do
- Procure women-specific PPE: NFPA 1971: Standard on Protective Ensembles for Structural Fire Fighting and Proximity Fire Fighting now requires gear be available in women-specific patterns. Departments must go beyond minimum compliance to ensure all firefighters have custom-fitted gear.
- Audit facilities and policies: Review dorms, showers, restrooms, parental leave and lactation accommodations. Fix inequities before they become lawsuits — or resignations.
- Train with equity in mind: Update recruit training and ongoing drills to reflect diverse body types, learning styles and operational strengths.
- Support networks and mentorship: Connect candidates with local affinity groups and structured mentorship opportunities.
- Normalize the conversation: Shift culture by framing equity as an operational necessity, not a special request.
Equity is a matter of survival
In fire service culture, bravery is often measured in terms of who can lift the heaviest load or charge forward into the hottest fire. But courage also lies in questioning old assumptions, in demanding that systems evolve with their workforce.
The USAR scenario described above makes the case plain: Equity is not about getting an unfair leg up. It’s not about favoring one group over another. Not one woman on this job today or tomorrow wants that, and she’ll tell you that in no uncertain terms. It’s about ensuring the right firefighter, with the right training, has the right tools to save lives. End of story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sara Rathbun is an acting assistant chief with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Rathbun leads the Women’s Fire Prep Academy, a program that prepares women for the physical and technical demands of firefighting; serves as Task Force Leader on the California Task Force 2 FEMA USAR team; and serves on the board of the Women’s Fire Alliance.
