OPINION: What do you think of when you hear the word “knitting”? An itchy sweater, your grandma or some indistinct historical time period? For me, it’s community.
It took me a while to form this association. I used to knit almost exclusively in my room, alone, while watching YouTube. It never occurred to me that knitting could be anything besides a solitary activity. I blame media portrayals for my mental image of the knitter as a lonely figure who looks in on the action from the outside. Besides my aunt, who lived far away, I didn’t know anyone who knitted. While I enjoyed the quiet, it also meant there was no one to encourage or teach me when I became frustrated.
That’s why I ended up taking a long break. I was lured back when I saw pretty yarn at the Common Ground Fair. As many knitters will tell you, we knit so that we can buy yarn. That was also where I first noticed that people form communities around knitting and other fiber arts.
Despite that exposure, when one of my professors suggested I start a fiber arts club, I was skeptical. Why would I start a club to do something that I could easily do alone? However, I was intrigued by the community I had seen and I wanted to learn to crochet. I started the club anyway, and I’m so glad I did.
I was immediately struck by how easy it was to have a conversation in a fiber arts group. There are times when I find conversing with strangers to be an effort in filling silence. I’m sure we’ve all experienced the challenges of small talk, but in the fiber arts circle, conversation flowed easily. I think there are a few reasons for that.
A fiber arts project is a reliable conversation starter for people who like fiber. We’re always asking one another about where to find yarn, whether it’s worth trying a new technique or our inspiration for different projects. Geeking out about a beloved topic happens in any niche community.
The other reason for effortless conversation, which I’ve not experienced outside of a fiber arts group, is that no one comes to talk about anything in particular. We come to work on our projects so the conversation is whatever is on our minds: frustrations, successes and the humdrum of daily life. It also helps that working on a project makes it easier to listen and conversation isn’t our sole focus so we aren’t waiting for our chance to jump in. We are occupying our hands to better listen with our heads.
This sense of community is not unique to the University of Maine. When I attended my first knitting workshop, it was the same. We were learning about colorwork, a knitting technique that makes it possible to create patterns and pictures, but it also involves a lot of counting and at least two balls of yarn that always tangle, as well as some swearing.
I was the youngest person there. My fellow learners included a man I judged to be in his thirties, a young woman who had recently moved to the area and a recently retired woman looking to pick up a new hobby. We were all from different places and backgrounds, but it didn’t matter because we all loved knitting.
I learned a few important things from that group. The first is that no one could agree on whether drinking wine helps or hurts when working on a challenging knitting project. I didn’t have any personal experience on this topic, but I enjoyed the debate.
The second is that knitters have a sense of humor. Sometimes, in a project, you’ll come to a moment when you realize it’s not working. The project is going to be too big, there is a mistake many rows ago or the colors are clashing. In that moment, you may make the heartbreaking decision to unravel your project and lose hours of work. This is called “frogging” because you rip-it, rip-it. Get it? Knitters know that mistakes are just part of the process.
The third thing I learned is that the solitary knitter is missing an amazing opportunity. Sometimes, I still knit alone, but I’ve also knitted with people ranging from half my age to over three times it. There aren’t many activities that bring together strangers across generations like the fiber arts. It is always a space of support, growth, passing on advice, creativity and yarn.
