Beki Grinter

Knitting and Racism

In DRAFT on February 6, 2019 at 2:31 pm

For a long time, knitting was where I went to get away. It was a place of refuge, disconnecting me from the computer (you can not type and knit). It was a source of calm,  sometimes it’s almost like my hands are working without me, disconnected from my mind. My mind freed to go to other places—often to reflect and remember those who taught me or just to relax and watch the world go by.

More recently, knitting and cross-stitch have become political outlets for me. My way to express values. Women’s rights sewn into cloth or knitted into a hat. Pink, I was told was reclaimed.

Pink was perhaps reclaimed for white women, like me. I read the critiques of the hats. Knitting and other fiber and fabric arts have other ways to exclude, for example, their cost. Forums I read remind me that not everyone can afford all the yarns they would like. I watch with joy as people triumph in finding beautiful yarn in thrift shops, and “like” posts with people who produce amazing things with acrylic yarn.

2019 has seen the knitting community revisit conversations about racism—this time sparked by a blog post written by a knitter. I’ve watched YouTube videos, and read posts, learning as I go. Some of this took place on Instagram, reminding me of its role in the knitting community, and here is a list of POC designers and dyers that I can and will start following. Much of it has been a reminder to be vigilant and thoughtful about how I can promote and support inclusivity in my own knitting practice.

Perhaps most importantly I’ve downloaded a copy of Layla Saad’s “Me and White Supremacy” Workbook. I am sure this is going to be a long, difficult journey. But, as a white woman its a journey I need to take.

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Beki’s favourite craft tools

In DRAFT on January 3, 2019 at 7:23 pm

It’s been a while, several years since I wrote anything for this blog. I suppose I finally have something to say. It begins sometime in 2018, back when Summer was still refusing to give way to Fall.

I’d been cycling for about a year, by which I mean I’d been using my e-bike as a commute vehicle and tool to be outside in the relentless heat of the Atlanta summer. When I wasn’t cycling to work, I’d been biking to my Local Yarn Store (LYS), The Craftivist in Inman Park. It was in the month of September when temperatures are supposed to drop from the 90s (F not C) that I discovered Topstitch Studio and Lounge, my Local Fabric Store (LFS).

Now at the start of 2019, I find myself with all the fibre arts within cycling distance. My LYS supplies my knitting and crochet needs, while my LFS manages my cross-stitch and sewing habits. This is the most access I’ve had to local supplies for crafts since I was a teenager who worked in Norwich and spent much of my money in the haberdashers on St. Stephens Street. The result is that I am spending much more time making things, including clothes which hasn’t happened since the 1980s.

So, since I last crafted at this level what has changed and what do I love?

  1. My toolbox. I’ve been through three this year, but I’ve finally found one that works for me. It’s a toolbox advertised for professional contractors. It has two shelves in addition to the large container. It’s deep, but not too long or wide. Perfect for keeping everything organised—really that’s a battle with crafting.
  2. Seam guide magnet. It’s a magnet that sticks onto the sewing machine, it helps you sew straight seams by ensuring that you always have the right distance between the edge of your fabric and the needle. It’s the first thing that has ever worked for me, and I’ve tried a lot of different things.
  3. A widescreen monitor (computer implied). I’ve always liked (I say liked, the process is usually one in which I swear a lot, procrastinate, but eventually get on with it) to customise patterns. Tops are too short for me, pockets either don’t exist or are repressively small. So I like to blend patterns. I also like to watch a film while I work. Sometimes I need to stop and watch a YouTube help video. What this means is that I need three windows open, side by side. Two PDFs, or a PDF and website, and then a video window.
  4. Smartphone. This is the tool of choice for knitting get-togethers (a.k.a. stitch-and-bitch). Carrying my pattern, checking a quick video, touching base with Ravelry to make sure that I don’t already own the size needle I’m about to buy again. It also connects me to Instagram, a useful social media platform for the fibre arts I now realise. (It’s also a social media platform that I find somewhat confusing, that’s been interesting.)
  5. Circular cutter. Wow, how did I not know of the existence of a circular cutter? It’s a pizza wheel for fabric and it’s an amazing cutting tool.
  6. The automatic needle threader (any needle threader). When I was a young teenager I always wondered why anyone needed help threading a needle. When I was a slightly older teenager I started to realise that arthritis might make threading needles physically difficult. It’s now as a middle-aged person I understand the importance of light in this process. My automatic needle threader, and the more basic needle threaders, along with those needles that are easier to thread… I understand their value. I’m also grateful for LED lights.
  7. Circular and interchangeable needles. My recollection of knitting needles as a child is that they were long and straight. As a small child, wielding them felt a bit like my first encounters with chopsticks: how am I supposed to make these work? Circular needles are knitting needles that allow you not just to knit round things, but also support knitting very long straight things without having a needle as long as your arm. Interchangeable needles allow you to screw on and off different sized needles.
  8. A glow in the dark crochet hook (or knitting needles). Seriously, it lights up. That must be useful even though I’ve been too embarrassed to use it in public.

I’m really grateful to be reconnecting intensely with my crafting passions. I’m delighted to have two Local F/Y Stores, not just because I can support small business, but also because they are routes to communities of makers. I’ve also felt more acutely how the digital has come to infuse my crafting, not just for help or other practical matters, but also to entertain me as I work. At the same time, some of the things I’ve discovered remind me of how my crafts history is embedded in my family history, how the things I need now are probably what my mother, grandmother, aunts and great aunts would have wanted or used if they were available to them. It reminds me that I was once a young crafter, now I contend with my new physical reality.

 

The Trouble with being a Loser

In social media, women on July 22, 2015 at 8:04 am

In the last couple of days I’ve seen a report from the Washington Post about a study that finds that men who are not so good at video games are more likely to be abusive to women. The study recognizes that women, far more than men, are likely to be targets of abuse online. It sought to find a reason for this sexist behaviour and used video game play as an example domain. Their conclusion is that men who are not good at those games feel threatened, but only (or much more so) by women than by other men. Hence the lashing out.

Its been bothering me. I saw it shared several times, and each time, I wondered why I felt bothered by it. I’ve just listened to Mary Beard’s lecture for the London Review of Books, and so I tried to think through this study using her lens. Her explanation of why women are subject to so much abuse explores how women’s voices have been silenced in the public sphere for the better part of 2,000 years. How practices of oratory in use today build on a lengthy tradition of associations with male voices and that we are still culturally raised to accept the voice of authority as being masculine rather than feminine.

In putting the study and Mary Beards lecture in dialog I came to see points of intersection though. The idea that men feel threatened comes out strongly in both Dr. Beard’s lecture “its not what you say, its the fact that you’re saying it” and of course the loser gamer. But I find myself preferring Dr. Beard’s explanation. I think we can potentially feel sorry for a loser, but that risks that we dismiss or excuse their actions as being those of a pathetic fool. And if we do that, we continue to reinforce patterns that make the public silencing of women’s voices acceptable as a response to something that threatens a man.