afghanistan

Public vs. Private Acts of Craftivism: Which Do You Prefer?

| Betsy

Continuing on from my post the other day about solo craftivist acts, 2 things have come to my attention lately that are 2 very different solo acts of craftivism. Public vs. private. I’m not making any judgements to which is “better” or “worse,” these are just two very different stories that have come up on my radar lately that fit under the umbrella of craftivism.

1. Tramway to Hell

This bit of crochet was put in the other day in Edinburgh to speak out against a local tram project.

Market researcher Mary Gordon, 44, snapped some pictures of the knitted notice.

“I was making my way home when it caught my eye. It was on tram barriers near the H&M close to Waverley Station. Quite a few people were gathered in front of it, having a look and taking pictures.

“I’m certainly familiar with the concept of yarn-bombing, and I know it’s been getting more popular here, but I’ve only ever heard of people, say, covering up benches or handrails to add a bit of colour to the environment, not making a political statement. It’s a bit like graffiti, but without the paint.”

Mary, who is herself a keen knitter and crocheter but insists she wasn’t responsible, said that the blanket was of a “high-standard”.

“I would guess that it must have taken at least a week, maybe two, so a lot of work went into it.

“Princes Street looks grim beyond belief right now and it was nice to see something colourful that was also making people think.”

2. Tina Selby’s 10,000 Hats for Soldiers in Afghanistan

Tiny Selby just finished her 10,000th hat for soldiers in Afghanistan. A very different act of craftivism.

A woman who turned her love of knitting to helping British soldiers fight off the cold in Afghanistan has topped a remarkable milestone.

Tina Selby, 50, from Penarth, Vale of Glamorgan, has now knitted more than 10,000 woolly hats.

In 2009, Mrs Selby planned to knit just 500 for regiments in Helmand province.

But, following the response she received from the troops, Mrs Selby will carry on knitting until the soldiers leave Afghanistan.

“It’s a full-time job,” said Mrs Selby, who is retired.

Tina Selby says she had about 100 knitters helping her send woolly hats to soldiers in Afghanistan,”but I’ll keep going until they come home in 2014.”

But, both speak to the heart of craftivism: using your creativity for positive change. (Okay, “tramway to hell” may not be the most positive, but it’s opening dialogue, which is it’s own type of change.) What I find fascinating is the dialogue that springs up around each of them. Public and private. One is just as good as the other, but does one make the maker feel better? The viewer? Yourself?

Do they elicit different internal dialogues? Does one seem more “legit” than the other? Does one deserve more recognition than the other?

This is what I’m working with at present, wondering, why do we do the craftivist acts that we do? What is our individual goal in doing them? Which do people prefer? No answers yet, just thoughts. Would love to hear yours!


Soldiers, Crafts and Comfort

| Betsy

I know that many of you, as have I, have donated various items of handcraft to soldiers currently in country in Iraq and Afghanistan. Ever since World War I, there have been initiatives like Knit Your Bit from the Red Cross. Actually, knitting for soldiers started even earlier than that, but that’s another story for another day.

But here’s a story about quilting and war. It’s about how a mother and daughter started an Iraq quilting bee for soldiers who have since learned various handcrafts. In the video below, there’s also a photo a light blue elephant crocheted by a very manly looking doctor in uniform, and the story of how this was started.





What I like best about this story was that it not only showed how a tiny idea (a soldier in Iraq requesting fabric from her mother) can grow into something bigger, but it also showed how sometimes (religion aside) there’s both a need and an interest in picking up something like crochet or quilting where you least expect it.

Instead of making something for the soldiers to use as comfort, this particular project uses craft itself as the comfort. And this perfectly dovetails with some thoughts I’ve been struck with lately… how sometimes the act/lesson of craft itself can be a more apt gift than the final product and how new valuable (for others not just ourselves!) projects can find us if we’re willing to just listen and be present.

I don’t know about you, but usually when I start something so small I feel like it’s useless, I’m focusing on the wrong end of the stick (the needle? the hook?). I’m focusing on what I think it will give vs. focusing on the joy and excitement and energy the project itself brings.

I forget how letting go of the outcome allows projects the room to fully expand and go where they need to. So today, here, is a little reminder to follow the joy your work brings… and to honor the work itself by giving it the space and the trust to change, move and grow.

Barbara Koenen’s War Rugs Made of Spice

| Betsy

I love how despite seeing thousands upon thousands of images every day, there are still some that cause us to stop, stare and digest. That’s what happened when I came across the piece about the work of Barbara Koenen via a link from The Examiner, which recently had a fantastic interview with Koenen about her work.

From the interview:

DG: How did you come up with the idea of combining the concept of Afghani war rugs with that of sand mandalas?

BK: I was already doing transitory work, as paintings, installations and actions using materials that would deterioriate or be swept away. But when 9/11 happened, I thought about the war rugs and it just made sense as a practice that could begin to respond to the horror of the attack, and bring in some historical context about why it might have happened. The war rugs were a response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in the 1970s. America backed the resistance fighters, supplying weapons and making promises of other support. But the US pulled out after the Soviets left, and the Taliban took over and turned the country into a despotic place. So our betrayal was in some ways responsible for the later attack. It is important for us to understand this, and to work for peace. So, combining the war rug imagery with the Tibetan meditative practice felt like as appropriate a response as I could think of at the time.

What I perhaps love most about Koenen’s work is the way that kitchen ingredients take the place of warp and weft and turn war imagery into something delicate and finite. Strong imagery turned powdery and wispy, shining brighter with the fact that at any moment, the whole piece could be erased with a swipe of a hand or brush.

Given the fact that these rugs tell stories from the lives of Afghans, the high illiteracy rate in Afghanistan and the lack of infrastructure, the real rugs, their real power is also powdery and wispy, as soldiers bring back handcrafted rugs made by Afghans for the soldiers, turning the war into a commodity instead of a backdrop of life. As the rugs leave Afghanistan as souvenirs they disappear into the ether much like spices do when you spill a bit while making pie.

But then again, I’m fascinated with war rugs, with their storytelling, their history, their capturing of culture in a society where history books and museums and archives fade into the background when war is a daily reality. And what better to honor those pieces than Koenen’s rugs, as they perfectly gather those questions and problems with spices and time.

Also, the wonderful and amazing Heather has continued the conversation on the absence of the myth of the tortured crafter over on her blog! Do go check it out and join the conversation!

True Bravery.

| Betsy

Ok, so I’ve talked about not liking the shouting version of protesting. I find it counterproductive in most cases. Although not in the case of Afghan women taking to the streets to protest a marriage law, a law that would require them to have sex with their husbands at least 1 day in 4, unless they were ill… allowing their husbands to effectively rape them legally if they were non-consenting.

In thinking about why I found this so incredibly brave and awesome, I think it has something to do with the fact that they protested in a society that doesn’t let them do so. And that despite having rocks thrown at them, and the crowd of anti-protesters being several times larger than their number of 300 and being pelted with stones, they kept going. And speaking up and moving forward in the name of having a safe place to sleep in a country that allows few freedoms (although it’s getting better…slowly) to its women is true, raw bravery. (Photo from article)

Protesting and chanting in our long-defined democracies seems somewhat antiquated in comparison, which is why I think that visual creations in protest help us connect with what’s going on. We are so used to hearing shouting that we slap on headphones, so used to angry faces that we ignore them, so deadened by the familiarity of our rights that we take them for granted. We no longer see the signs or hear the shouts, but we are enlivened and challenged by something handmade for the occasion as it was specially crafted for the event. In other words, it allows us to project a non-jaded eye on old familiars when it comes to protest.

Over in Afghanistan today, 300 women spoke up where protesting is the domain of men and made people listen. In a country where speaking out is not a right, then vocal protest is the most radical of them all. If your voice can be freely heard and exclaimed in your society, that’s when I think other measures need to be adopted to be heard effectively.

My favorite part of the report on this protest? Female police officers (themselves an incredibly brave and new sign of moving forward, a job opportunity barely 4 years old) held hands in a protective barrier around the protesters. Despite all the anger and hate and chaos going on around them, these women moved forward in a ring of women and proved to the world that they, too, are ready to stand up. And they stood together, despite the anger surrounding them, vocalizing their discontent and holding hands, they walk forward.

On Donating Tiny New Things for Tiny New People.

| Betsy

The first time I heard about Afghanistan, the Soviets were in control. After learning in school that the Afghan people had no contact with the outside world, I remember being upset that they wouldn’t have cameras and photographs. When the Russians left in 1991, I was happy and hopeful that things would be better, and that yes, they would get their cameras.

When the United States invaded Afghanistan years later I was angry and frustrated with our foreign policy, like so many people. In 2003, a friend in my knitting circle mentioned she was going to donate some hats to Afghans for Afghans and wondered if we would also like to donate something. I made things then, and have made several more things in the years that have followed.

Currently, Afghans for Afghans is in need of donations for children aged 2-8, with a collection date a few months from now. If you have some spare time and some spare yarn, consider whipping up some items for little wee ones. They may not need cameras, but they surely could use some warm handmade garments. There are more details here.

Speaking of little ones, I was so happy to hear that Mama to Mama collected 5,523 hats to send to cover 5,523 tiny heads in Haiti! So amazing and so inspiring! Lastly, a lovely email arrived in my inbox this week with a link to an organization that was new to me, Little Dresses for Africa! They are an organization collecting dresses made out of pillowcases for children in need. Who doesn’t have an extra pillowcase in their closet?! Now get sewing! Thanks so much, Carrie!

The beautiful image above came from Flickr user Papyrist. Wouldn’t you like to make some wee little vests and sweaters now?