I started knitting after college, during a significant
period of transition in my life. I had just left New York City where I had been
in school and where all my friends remained. I was living with my parents, had
an internship, and was trying to figure out what I wanted to do next. This was
also the early 2000s and the crafting/DIY movement was just getting started –
all the cool kids were knitting. I have always been a crafty person and
knitting appealed to me. I wanted to make beautiful knit garments that I could
wear or give to friends and family. And, for the first time in my life, I
wasn’t a student – no homework, no exams to study for, more time for hobbies. I
also had this sense, which is funny to me now, that my real adult life was
beginning. I was thinking a lot about what I wanted that life to be like, what
kind of an adult I wanted to be, and part of how I envisioned myself was as a
maker or a crafter – a knitter.
My knitting education began with me buying a skein of yarn,
a pair of single-pointed knitting needles, and a how-to knitting book for
beginners. I remember sitting on my bed at my parent’s house, teaching myself
to knit. I think I successfully managed to cast-on, knit, and purl, but I
quickly realized that if I wanted to do more, I’d need some help. So I signed
up for a knitting class through the local continuing education program. The teacher structured the class around
knitting a sweater because she said a common mistake made by beginning knitters
is that their first project is usually a long scarf in simple stockinette
stitch – most people get bored with this, put the project down, and never pick
it up again. Knitting a sweater is more interesting and demands that a knitter
learn more than just simple stitches. I never finished the sweater I started in
this class, but I’ve never stopped knitting. Taking that class, working through
the mistakes and awkwardness of my first project with the instructor and my
classmates, initiated me into the culture of knitting. I was no longer an
outsider, with no clue what knitting was all about – I was knitting literate,
at least on a basic level. I didn’t learn everything about knitting in that
class, but I developed confidence in my ability to knit, allowing me to move
forward and learn more on my own. I was officially a knitter.
Though now I am at the point where I can teach someone else
how to knit, I still continue to learn about knitting every time I start a new
project. When I need help, I turn to books, magazines, online videos, and other
knitters. The community of knitters is rich and lively, both online and in real
life. Knitters love to get together to share projects, talk about knitting, and
help each other out. No matter what strange town I might find myself in, I know
I could go into the local knitting shop and ask for help with a project (after
fondling all the beautiful yarn, of course). The knitting community was
particularly important to me in the year after I lost my father, when I joined
a local Stitch & Bitch group. The weekly act of knitting with others,
building new friendships over a shared interest, was healing. I’m inspired by
the beautiful and creative things that other knitters make – from complicated Fair
Isle sweaters to silly stuffed dinosaurs. I’m especially impressed by knitters
who can create their own patterns, a level of knitting literacy that I have yet
to achieve. I mean, check out this brilliant anatomically correct
knit brain! And beyond learning more and more about how and what to knit, I
love learning about the history and evolution of knitting. I love art inspired
by or involving knitting, such as Dave Cole’s
Knitting Machine or the
giant knit rabbit made by Italian art collective Gelitin. I love the political side
of knitting culture as well; that knitters are yarn bombing trees and
army tanks and
sending knit uteri to congress.
I have never thought about knitting in the context of literacy
before, but as I do now, I realize how much of a specialized language knitting
requires. There are the terms I’ve mentioned already, such as knit, purl,
stockinette, casting on. But that’s just the beginning. There are many other
types of stitches and techniques – garter stitch, seed stitch, ribbing, cables,
binding off, increasing and decreasing, intarsia. There are needles of all
sizes and they’re double-pointed or circular or used especially to make cables.
Yarn comes in bundles called skeins, in numerous materials and weights, such as
fingering and worsted and sport. You must learn how to read knitting patterns,
in which everything is abbreviated – to know, for example, that “ssk” means
“slip, slip, knit” (and what does that even mean?). And when you’re ready to
try lace knitting, there’s the daunting challenge of reading lace charts. And
now you want to crochet? That’s a whole new language. I’ve loved learning the
language of knitting and being a part of the “knitting literate.” I also love
the math and spatial reasoning of knitting, the problem solving. I’m a better
knitter than I was when I bought that first skein of yarn, but knitting
continues to be a pleasurable challenge.
For me knitting is more than a hobby, it’s something of a
mindfulness practice. It’s simultaneously stimulating and relaxing, almost
meditative. It can be a social activity, connecting me to others, or a solitary
one, connecting me to myself. When I’m feeling down, the act of knitting can
pull me up – on a bad day, if I accomplish nothing else, at least I can say, “I
knit an inch of a sock today.” It feels good to have made something with my own
hands. It’s interesting to think of the impact knitting has had on my life
through the lens of literacy and in considering my future as a teacher. It’s
helped me to recognize my knitting abilities as literacy, literacy that has
helped me develop valuable skills and allowed me entrance into a rich
community. As a teacher, sharing this experience with my students may be a way
to model motivation for learning. I had an interest, set a personal challenge,
and reached out for the help I needed to accomplish my goal. Furthermore, I
want to be a teacher that recognizes and values the non-traditional literacies
of my students and helps them use those skills and interests for academic
success. I want to send the message that it is not only the traditional academic
subjects that have value in our lives. Knitting could easily be brushed off as
simply a fun hobby, but it has enriched my life and expanded my mind. And the
world is full of other such seemingly unimportant pursuits for all of us to
explore.
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This is me (years ago) with an octopus I knit. |