My Long-Distance Crochet Affair
A creative convergence moment and musings on the extent to which we exist in the work we create no matter where it ends up and in whose hands.
A few days prior to this article, I posted a note about how overlapping our passions can situate us sweetly in a creative convergence moment that is meant uniquely for us.
I referenced my upcoming weekend crochet sesh with the Nakivale Women’s Crafter Collective in Uganda as an example of a creative convergence moment. I promised a story about that crochet sesh. Here it is!
Have you ever spent hours making something special, sent it far away, and then seen it in a picture or better yet in a video in the hands of someone else? This summer, I sent my crochet 8,000 miles from home twice. It blew my mind both times. And, I think I need your help understanding why!
The first time this happened was when I sent some of my crochet items with a friend to Kenya. After a lot of logistical coordination, she delivered crocheted dolls (that I purchased from a friend of mine; I’m not that talented) and crocheted hats and bags that I made to my good friend
.I told Omito in advance, “Do with them what you will.” I fully expected he would hand the items out to the girls in the community. He did. But, he also gave a one-of-a-kind (“one-of-a-kind” because I swore the whole time I made it and therefore also swear to never make it again) purse to one of the elder women in his village so she could “keep her things in one place”.
What a surprise! I labored over that darn thing for hours, no days. Originally I thought I would try to sell it. Then, I considered giving it to a friend’s daughter, but then thought she wouldn’t appreciate it. Then, finally, enough time had passed and I was ready to let it go. I sent it to Kenya, thinking some young lady would love to have this purse.
In the end, this is exactly where this purse belonged: in the hands of an elder in Kenya. As I look at this picture, I can’t help but wonder… after all of that time and energy, does a part of me live in that piece that now lives with her and holds her things?
The second time I experienced this odd sensation of seeing my work in the hands of someone 8,000 miles away was this weekend with the Nakivale Women’s Crafters Collective in Uganda.
Crocheting in Community, Virtually
I’ve always crocheted solo. But, this year, that changed.
Earlier this spring, when
of Go Green Social Initiative in Nakivale Refugee Settlement in Uganda told me that there was a group of women using his education center to crochet together, I jumped at the chance to meet them.
We managed a few crochet sessions over Zoom this Spring and Summer. Despite the language barrier, the women and I were able to share our love for crochet. We also laughed. We taught each other patterns. I learned some French and Swahili. They practiced their English.
This short 5-minute video is from a 2-hour Zoom crochet sesh this Spring where I tried to teach them soap sacks (it was partly successful). Neema Chiribuka (master crochet trainer) in return tried to teach me about hand socks (think baby washcloth). I forgot how to count in French. Skip to minute 4:20 for Noela dancing for my impending 50th birthday!
Over the summer, I continued to send money to the women to purchase yarn and I followed their progress. Impressed by their persistence and passion, I incorporated their stories into my RainMakers & ChangeMakers 61-day art and story telling project by highlighting Neema and the crafters.
Needless to say, I have fallen in love with these women over the last few months. I’m a Neema Chiribuka fangirl and I want to be Noela’s best friend.
So, when recently I had the chance to send yarn, hooks, and some of my crocheted items to them with a friend who was traveling back to Uganda (see Follow That Yarn Part 2 for that story), I jumped at the chance.
Over the last two weeks, 25 women have been learning how to crochet with my yarn and hooks! That means more women are joining the Collective! This past Saturday, we got a chance to meet some of them and crochet together.
A Piece Of Me In Every Piece
Our Saturday Zoom crochet sesh was a blast! About a dozen women were there crocheting when
and I logged on. We made our introductions, all of us fumbling, smiling, and giggling through awkward introductions.We met Latitia, featured recently in this cameo piece by Elijah Astute. She was crocheting at a rate I don’t think I will ever be able to achieve. By the end of our one hour crochet session together, I had made the crown of a hat. Latitia had nearly finished a child-size poncho.
During our sesh, Neema Chiribuka paused to show us some of her finished products. As she went through her bag of finished work and WIPs (works-in-progress), I saw something familiar. It was my black-and-white water bottle holder (see :45 in the below video). I had sent it so that they could see how I made it and practice from the model.
When I saw my crocheted water bottle holder in the hands of Neema Chiribuka, not to mention my cute little mandala doily that I had sent her in her lap, my heart soared. Worlds collided and I fell even deeper in love with the craft of crochet and sharing with these women.
It was like a piece of me was there with her, 8,000 miles away. The yarn was just yarn. It always is. But, once we make it into something, put our energy into the stitches, are we part of those pieces? I spent the hours making those pieces. My energy was sitting within that work. And there she was holding that work. My imaginative, sentimental self asks, “Was I in some way there with her? Was she holding me?”
Crochet Takes Forever. That’s Why It’s Special
If you crochet (or knit or embroider or quilt, etc), you know the jokes. You can buy pre-made labels for your crochet and knitting items on Etsy with the following quips:
This took forever, so you better like it.
Enjoy. Because I am never making this again.
Made with love and a shit load of time and money.
There is a kernel of truth in each. Crochet takes forever. I can’t crochet a decent hat in less than 3 hours. A pair of gloves takes me two hours. I spent Christmas Eve last year crocheting 8 hours nonstop to make four pairs of gloves. Why!?
Because we love to make. And, we love to give. The surprise and delight on the face of the recipient is all worth it.
Crochet Kept Me Sane During COVID
Despite the amount of time it takes to make one darn thing, I crochet and I love it. It was my COVID hobby. It kept my hands and mind occupied. It provided solace after my divorce. It gave me something to do during hard times and gave me extra income when I needed it most. If you engage in a craft, how has it impacted you?
Crochet has also helped me help others. I used it to raise money earlier this year for a project in Kenya, specifically Omito’s project! For more on that story, read Follow That Yarn Part 1.
Hands down, in my book, crochet is the bomb. It’s satisfying, if you get some soft yarn it’s also comforting, and it looks pretty cool.
Anyone who wants to learn crochet, please don’t hesitate. Go get yourself a hook and a skein of yarn and turn on YouTube! I want nothing more than others to have the same joys as I have crocheting.
Creative Convergence Moment
This crochet sesh was a creative convergence moment because many of my interests intersected and overlapped in one activity. I organized the event, I was in community, we were all crocheting at the same time, we were learning languages, it was cross-cultural, and we were in solidarity as women.
You can create your own moments! I’m a firm believer in squeezing the most juice out of life. Sometimes opportunities present themselves. But, sometimes it helps to arrange and align people, places, and opportunities to create these moments. You can create opportunities by intentionally planning, aligning and overlapping your interests and passions.
As I said in my note…
Overlapping our passions in ways that are unique to us creates opportunities to express our individuality. I call these “Creative Convergence moments.” Where our passions converge lies a sweet center, a place where we feel more whole than if we had kept ourselves siloed on separate interest paths.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. But, what if they converged instead?
Multiple roads converged in a yellow wood. Overlapping them has made all the difference.
Emily, so happy to see your writing and everything that is going on in your life. It seems you have found your niche and your voice! All the best, Matthew