red cross

Turning Crafts Into Teaching Tools

| Betsy

If you’re a refugee in a foreign country and are trying to navigate around town, you might not be aware of local customs, hazards, warning signs. While I could write all day about this (and actually do quite a bit of research on this already on countries with high illiteracy levels), I wanted to share this story before I went to work this morning, so forgive me for relying on quotes from others instead.

In the absence of words, the Hmong used story cloths (see quotes below for more info) to tell their own stories of their experiences in their homeland. Stories that are not generally depicted on a needlepoint pillow like the ones your grandmother has on the couch.

Without written language, they used story clothes to preserve their history. Women sewed images of their devastating stories of crossing the Mekong River to Thailand from Laos, or flying overseas to America for freedom.

Paj ntaub or “flower cloth” is a textile art traditionally practiced by Hmong people. It involves embroidery in applique, reverse applique and batik designs that are used to decorate clothing and accessories. Paj ntaub has also expanded to include “story cloths,” stitched stories often telling of the Hmong exodus from Laos to Thailand and even to the U.S.

So, ingeniously, the staff at the American Red Cross Twin Cities Area Chapter (where there is a large Hmong refugee community) found a way to show off these needlepoint skills and help the community navigate their new lives simultaneously.

Create new story cloths as a teaching tool for those in the Hmong community who are illiterate.

Each of the panels in the story cloth shares a different set of safety skills. “The winter weather panel shows images of Minnesota winters, including an icy lake and a car stuck in a snow bank, while the summer safety panel reminds people to wear lightweight clothing instead of traditional layered Hmong dress,” said Chau Vue, Hmong/South East Asian Outreach Coordinator with the Twin Cities Area Chapter, who shares these safety messages with the local Hmong community.

Imagine the possibilities here for countries with high illiteracy rates and taking cultural skills that are already there and transforming them into teaching tools. Perhaps my favorite example of this is the Mapula Embroidery Project in South Africa (more here and here).

And conversely, imagine the possibilities if we discovered more about what story cloths and other tapestries made by highly illiterate communities can teach us about their cultural experiences, cultural memory, histories, hopes, dreams. My favorite example of that are my biggest love, biggest question mark and biggest dream for writing more about, Afghan war rugs.

We often think we’re so advanced and cultured and technologically advanced, and we’re so often focused on moving forward, that I think we forget that there are great lessons to be told and stories to be shared and secrets to be uncovered when we drop our iPhones and laptops and headphones, and take a minute to learn (really learn) what stories are being told with little more than needles and thread, words optional.


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.

yes virginia, crafting does equal activism!

| Betsy

knitting_lrg.jpg

the above image was used during World War II, and is from The Red Cross’ museum page.

part of the reason why i’m so fascinated with the current upswing in knitting is based on past resurgences, which were all war-based. some of my elder female relatives have told me stories about how they knitted for soldiers in WWI, WWII and Korea and how it was seen as a patriotic act and ‘the right thing to do.’ in fact, one of my grandmothers only attempted to knit one thing, a garment for the war effort and then quit because it looked funny.

during my current holiday retail stint, i’ve seen woman after woman wearing a handknit scarf, usually faux fur bought at the local craft-chain shop, of which there are numerous. each time they show up at my register, i ask, ‘did you knit that?’ and more often the response is something along the lines of ‘isn’t everything doing it these days?’ or ‘it’s all the rage!’ which tends to get my heckles up a bit.

maybe it’s the knitting nerd in me that wants to scream, ‘what is so fascinating about a bandwagon that you’re not especially stoked about?’ i pick activities and causes because it’s something i generally want to do, not because it seems cool or hip. (although i do remember a spate of ribbon barrettes i made in elementary school because, well, everyone else was doing it…)

don’t get me wrong, i think it’s great that so many people are picking up crochet hooks and knitting needles and learning to create garments themselves. but the travesty i see is that often times knitting’s past is overlooked. awhile ago i was doing some research on knitting and someone made the comment about how great it was that there was a resurgence in knitting, but that it was a shame that we were being ironic about it.

if there’s one thing i’m not, it’s ironic about crafts. i may put my own spin on designs, but i see my craft making as a way of honoring, not mocking, my elders. enjoying how i can create something with my own two hands rather than buy it from some mass-produced outlet.

and when i see posters like the one above, i start getting all nerdy about knitting and wanting to write and research more and excited about the *past* of knitting and the path that leads from the beginning of time until now. how something as simple and lovely as knitting wound its way in and out of public consciousness, been used to show support for and against war, kept people warm and idle hands busy, how individuals are embracing the domestic with open arms.

it’s exciting.

i just wish i could tell all of that to the women that tell me how ‘knitting’s all the rage.’