Fiber Arts and Social Justice--Nov. 11, 2009, Judy LaLonde
Opening words—by Margaret Mead: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; it’s the only thing that ever has.
We come together today, not to celebrate the Purple Paisley Quilters (although, of course, you are always welcome to provide us with praise), but to celebrate the men and women, who use their skills with pieces of cloth and lengths of yarn in the service of social justice. Yes, it is quilt Sunday, but we’re extending the topic to include knitting—if you stop by some Monday night, it would be very unusual to not find at least one of us knitting as well as quilting.
So today, I’m going to take you through some history of ways needlework has been used for social justice.
There is a long history of wartime knitting. There would seem at first glance, to be nothing peaceful about knitting in times of war. To many, knitting to support those fighting in war may seem as though it supports the war itself. But peace is not a commodity exclusive to pacifists. Anyone in a difficult situation—from War refugees to soldiers on battlefronts—deserves some measure of personal peace. That is what has inspired knitters through history to knit for them all, especially during the most devastating and demoralizing times.
America was founded in an act of noncompliance, and its no surprise that colonial knitters stitched in that spirit as well. Britain’s tight restrictions on its colonies led American colonists to dig in their heels. Spinning, weaving, knitting and sewing, formerly seen as domestic roles of the “weaker sex,” became a new way to assert American independence. Home production of clothing became a protest: spinning bees and knitting circles became resistance movements.
When the Revolutionary War began, women were urged to “cast their mite into the public good” to assist the government in clothing its army, and they did not disappoint. From Virginia to New Jersey, they furiously knit socks and sewed shirts for the soldiers—in addition to those they made for their own families (usually a sizeable number).
Others used their knitting to forward the war effort in more subversive ways. “Old Mom Rinker,” a knitter near Philadelphia, passed on tidbits of British military history garnered from eavestropping tavern keepers in only a way a knitter could conceive of: she embedded notes to General Washington in balls of yarn, went to a cliff outside of town, and perched their with her knitting, a picture of innocence. When the General’s troops passed along the path below, she would nudge a ball of yarn over the cliff edge, landing at their feet. One of the troops would just as innocently pick it up, and the message would be hastened to General Washington.Almost a century later, during the civil War, the pleas for knitted things—especially socks—came directly from the soldiers. Personal appeals, sent to mothers and sisters and wives in battlefield letters from soldiers with frostbitten feet and tattered boots, heightened the knitters’ sense of urgency. With no need of government bidding, women automatically organized themselves to roll bandages, collect donations, and knit. You might recall scenes from Little Women.
In the North, they were fairly organized. In 1861, the United States Sanitary Commission, a predecessor of the Red Cross, organized and streamlined theprocess. Women knit gloves, mufflers, blankets, socks sent to the Union soldiers, generally accompanied by a note of encouragement. Quilters donated quilts and comforts. In fact, the military made specific requests that quilts be made about seven feet by four feet, the convenient size for a military cot and bedding pack. Many quilts were made from available fabrics and sometimes quilts were made by cutting up two existing bed quilts and sewing them into three cot quilts. Eventually money had to be raised to buy the fabric to make soldiers' bedding as existing materials were used up. Craft bazaars had existed, but now the proceeds were used to buy needed supplies for the Union. During this period, beautiful album quilts, flag quilts, and silk log cabin quilts were sewn. By the end of the war, it is estimated that over 250,000 quilts and comforts had been made for Union soldiers.
There are intriguing myth of how quilting was used to help the slaves escape through the Underground Railroad. A Log Cabin quilt hanging in a window with a black center for the chimney hole was said to indicate a safe house—or was it a red center? Underground Railroad quilts, a variation of Jacob's Ladder, were said to give clues to the safe path to freedom. We imagine women secretly sewing fabric pieces together to be used as signals. However, research about the Underground Railroad finds no evidence that this actually occurred. But these stories have been told from generation to generation filling our imagination with visions of quilting being a part of the flight for freedom. While we enjoy these stories it is important to be aware that it is unlikely that quilts were ever a part of the Underground Railroad.
In the South, things were more difficult. The area was more rural and battles took place right there in their back yards. Women were known to stuff their pockets with socks and deliver them to soldiers on the battlefields. Sometimes, plantation houses were set up as knitting and sewing centers. Meanwhile, the quilters made “gunboat quilts:--medallion style floral arrangements cut from printed fabrics highlighted these quilts, sold to raise money to pay for three ironclad gunboats.
In Lexington, Missouri, the women of the Methodist-Episcopal Church decided to make a quilt to auction at a church bazaar as a fundraiser for destitute Confederate families. The minister’s wife donated a black silk dress embroidered with butterflies, and other women contributed silk dresses and dressmaking scraps to use for the quilt. Each of the Log Cabin blocks was centered with one of the colorful butterflies. Someone supplied enough black-and-white-checked silk to make the back of the quilt. Someone else furnished silk ribbon to use for the binding.
The quiltmakers gathered to sew and talk about the sadness that had come to so many families. They gave thanks when their own relatives had been spared, and they comforted their companions who had experienced loss. In their earnestness, the women wanted to leave no doubt as to the purpose of their project. They applied brass sequins diagonally across the center of the quilt to form the words “FEED THE HUNGRY."
Forward to 1914 and the 1st World War—the Red Cross recruited knitters nationwide to clothe and comfort Allied soldiers, European civilians, and eventually, US troops. They distributed yarns, patterns and needles; advertised in local newspapers and magazines. John D. Rockefeller actually opened his mansion to knitters.
Some critics suggested that all this knitting was a waste of time, energy and resources, arguing that the items provided were more “comforts” than “necessities.” But soldiers in foxholes would probably have argued otherwise. Mary Pickford—perhaps the first celebrity knitter—knit between scenes of her latest photoplay in support on ongoing Red Cross efforts even after war was over—for refugees and hospitalized soldiers.
During World War II, the same type of effort was repeated. Maria Kaiser of Raleigh, NC, remembers her grandmother knitting scarves and helmet liners for troops. Maria remembers knitting in the dark of a movie theatre. Her mother knitted one scarf—her only knitting venture—and she said she felt sorry for the soldier who received it. Move forward in history to the year of the Selma-to-Montgomery march. A white Episcopal priest, who was the newly appointed head of an Alabama civil rights project, was driving south of Selma through desperately poor Wilcox Country to document cases of whites harassing blacks involved in the rights movement. He noticed a cabin clothesline from which were hanging three quilts in strong, hold colors in original patterns. He conceived the idea that the black women could increase their involvement in civil rights by mobilizing to sell patchwork quilts. Within weeks, the Freedom Quilting Bee was formed-- a hand craft cooperative, eventually acclaimed across the nation.During the late 1960s, early 70s, the Freedom Quilting Bee captured the attention of the New York world of fashion and interior design, sparking a nationwide revival of interest in patchwork quilts. The quilters began to earn significant money to supplement their family incomes, which had been averaging less than $1,000 a year. Formerly field hands with fingers callused by the lifelong chopping of cotton, the Freedom quilters became skilled artisans and self-styled business executives who, with determination, vision, and pride, began collectively to keep aflame an artistic endeavor central to the black culture of that Alabama community—which is now the largest employer of Wilcox Country.
There are several current projects whose knitters attempt to provide comfort across the world. The Ships Project—more than 100,000 knitters 275,000 items sent to Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait and Uzbekistan. Operation Toasty Toes sends warm slippers, hats, and other comfort items.
But today’s knitters and quilters do more than just supply articles to those in need—they use fiber arts as a tool to raise awareness and inspire thought and discussion. A woman in San Francisco started a project knitting small, GI Joe size sweaters for each death in Iraq--red, of course. Because of the increasing numbers of deaths, she had to limit it to American Death toll. At time she started, around 1,500. Connected in a chain and displayed on a tree in front of her house. As people across the country learned about her project, she was inundated with red sweaters from across the country.
Quilts especially have been used to bring people together. The Faith Quilts Project of Boston started in 2003. The project ended with 56 quilts representing diverse traditions as African-American, South east Asian Muslims, Baha’s, Native Americans. Mormons, Wiccans, Buddhists, Evangelical Christians, Seventh Day Adventists, Secular Humanists, Jews, and others.
The quilts were displayed this past April at several places in Boston. It was started as a way to visually express deeply held beliefs, to start a citywide exploration of faith and the human spirit, when the world in increasingly engaged in political wars for their beliefs. Project coordinators hope the quilts will challenge stereotypes and educate the public about the diversity of faith traditions, a form for discovering similarities as well as differences among faith communities.
And at the Harvard Divinity School in February 2005, quilters gathered together to decorate a quilt with self portraits to be sent to the West Bank City of Ramallah where it now hangs in a Quaker meeting house. One quilter, Vinny Dorio whose self-portrait included a tear, explained: “The whole Israeli-Palestinian conflict does make me very sad. But even a little thing like this, just to make this quilt for Ramalla, which someone sees and says, ‘We have to stop this.’ You never know.” Of the 30 participants, at least six were men. The quilts, representing the coming together of different peoples, express the longing to overcome human divisions.
Of course, we are all familiar with the AIDS Memorial Quilt, which dates back to 1985 and one San Francisco gay rights activist, who helped organized the annual candlelight march honoring those who died of AIDS. End of March, he put pieces of paper with the names of those victims on wall—He and his friends noted that it looked like a patchwork. Following year, they made the first panel and formed the Names Project Foundation and people in US cities started sending panels. Displayed the first time at the National Mall DC in October 1987—then, it was 1920 panels and covered a space larger than a football field, viewed by ½ million people. Since then, the quilt made tours of North America. The last time it was seen in its entirety was in 1996. Nominated for a Nobel Peace Price in 1989; the largest community art project in the world. The stated mission of the Aids Memorial quilt is to provide a creative means for remembrance and healing, to effectively illustrate the enormity of the AIDS pandemic, to increase awareness of HIV and AIDS throughout the general public, and to assist others in providing education on the prevention of HIV infection, and to raise funds for community-based AIDS service organizations. For anyone that hasn’t seen parts of it, the quilt measures approximately 12 feet square, and a typical block consists of eight individual three foot by six-foot panels sewn together: There are 44,000 panels to date. According to the Foundation, The Quilt has redefined the tradition of quilt-making in response to contemporary circumstances. A memorial, a tool for education and a work of art, the Quilt is a unique creation, an uncommon and uplifting response to the tragic loss of human life.
Another fiber project for social action that familiar to us is the Afghans for Afghans. Originally, a drive started by one woman in 2001 who aimed collect 5000 hand knit wool hats, mittens, sweaters, vests, and afghans to be sent to orphanages, clinics and children’s centers. Notes were often included. The afghans are not always perfect, but full of good thoughts.
Many more current projects—too numerous to name—and most were started by one person or a small group and then grew: caps for kids; hats for women undergoing cancer treatment; caps for preemies; prayer shawls.These projects provide ways for men and women with a yen to have needs of one kind or another in their hands and indulge in yarn or fabric; and from their hands come warmth, comfort and hopes for peace in the world. Closing words: We quilters and knitters work a powerful magic when we use our skills for others. By doing this, we can build bridges between warring nations, help to heal deep wounds, offer a primal sort of comfort, and create peace—however small, and in whatever way that may be--for others and ourselves
Sources: Christiansen, Betty. Knitting for Peace: Make the World a Better Place One Stitch at a Time. NY: Harry N. Abrams, 2006.“Quilters Hope to Link Patchwork of Views,” Rich Barlow, Boston Globe, February 17, 2007. www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2007/12/17/quilters_hope_to_link_a_patchwork ofviews. Access 10/28/07.The Pluralism Project of Harvard University: “The Faith Quilts Project (2006), www.pluralism.org/research/profies/display.php?profile-72650, Accessed 10/28/07The Aids Memorial Quilt, www.aidsquilt.org/index.htm; Accessed 11/3/07.Macdonald, Anne L. No Idle Hands: The Social History of American Knitting. NY: Ballantine Books, 1988.American’s Quilting History: Underground Railroad Quilts and Abolitionist Fairs. www.womenfolkd.com/quilting_history/abolitionist.htm. Accessed 11/3/07.Afghans for Afghans. http://www.afghansforafghjana.org/. Accessed 11/3/07.The Freedom Quilting Bee. www.ruraldevelopment.org/FQB.html. Accessed 11/3/07.
We come together today, not to celebrate the Purple Paisley Quilters (although, of course, you are always welcome to provide us with praise), but to celebrate the men and women, who use their skills with pieces of cloth and lengths of yarn in the service of social justice. Yes, it is quilt Sunday, but we’re extending the topic to include knitting—if you stop by some Monday night, it would be very unusual to not find at least one of us knitting as well as quilting.
So today, I’m going to take you through some history of ways needlework has been used for social justice.
There is a long history of wartime knitting. There would seem at first glance, to be nothing peaceful about knitting in times of war. To many, knitting to support those fighting in war may seem as though it supports the war itself. But peace is not a commodity exclusive to pacifists. Anyone in a difficult situation—from War refugees to soldiers on battlefronts—deserves some measure of personal peace. That is what has inspired knitters through history to knit for them all, especially during the most devastating and demoralizing times.
America was founded in an act of noncompliance, and its no surprise that colonial knitters stitched in that spirit as well. Britain’s tight restrictions on its colonies led American colonists to dig in their heels. Spinning, weaving, knitting and sewing, formerly seen as domestic roles of the “weaker sex,” became a new way to assert American independence. Home production of clothing became a protest: spinning bees and knitting circles became resistance movements.
When the Revolutionary War began, women were urged to “cast their mite into the public good” to assist the government in clothing its army, and they did not disappoint. From Virginia to New Jersey, they furiously knit socks and sewed shirts for the soldiers—in addition to those they made for their own families (usually a sizeable number).
Others used their knitting to forward the war effort in more subversive ways. “Old Mom Rinker,” a knitter near Philadelphia, passed on tidbits of British military history garnered from eavestropping tavern keepers in only a way a knitter could conceive of: she embedded notes to General Washington in balls of yarn, went to a cliff outside of town, and perched their with her knitting, a picture of innocence. When the General’s troops passed along the path below, she would nudge a ball of yarn over the cliff edge, landing at their feet. One of the troops would just as innocently pick it up, and the message would be hastened to General Washington.Almost a century later, during the civil War, the pleas for knitted things—especially socks—came directly from the soldiers. Personal appeals, sent to mothers and sisters and wives in battlefield letters from soldiers with frostbitten feet and tattered boots, heightened the knitters’ sense of urgency. With no need of government bidding, women automatically organized themselves to roll bandages, collect donations, and knit. You might recall scenes from Little Women.
In the North, they were fairly organized. In 1861, the United States Sanitary Commission, a predecessor of the Red Cross, organized and streamlined theprocess. Women knit gloves, mufflers, blankets, socks sent to the Union soldiers, generally accompanied by a note of encouragement. Quilters donated quilts and comforts. In fact, the military made specific requests that quilts be made about seven feet by four feet, the convenient size for a military cot and bedding pack. Many quilts were made from available fabrics and sometimes quilts were made by cutting up two existing bed quilts and sewing them into three cot quilts. Eventually money had to be raised to buy the fabric to make soldiers' bedding as existing materials were used up. Craft bazaars had existed, but now the proceeds were used to buy needed supplies for the Union. During this period, beautiful album quilts, flag quilts, and silk log cabin quilts were sewn. By the end of the war, it is estimated that over 250,000 quilts and comforts had been made for Union soldiers.
There are intriguing myth of how quilting was used to help the slaves escape through the Underground Railroad. A Log Cabin quilt hanging in a window with a black center for the chimney hole was said to indicate a safe house—or was it a red center? Underground Railroad quilts, a variation of Jacob's Ladder, were said to give clues to the safe path to freedom. We imagine women secretly sewing fabric pieces together to be used as signals. However, research about the Underground Railroad finds no evidence that this actually occurred. But these stories have been told from generation to generation filling our imagination with visions of quilting being a part of the flight for freedom. While we enjoy these stories it is important to be aware that it is unlikely that quilts were ever a part of the Underground Railroad.
In the South, things were more difficult. The area was more rural and battles took place right there in their back yards. Women were known to stuff their pockets with socks and deliver them to soldiers on the battlefields. Sometimes, plantation houses were set up as knitting and sewing centers. Meanwhile, the quilters made “gunboat quilts:--medallion style floral arrangements cut from printed fabrics highlighted these quilts, sold to raise money to pay for three ironclad gunboats.
In Lexington, Missouri, the women of the Methodist-Episcopal Church decided to make a quilt to auction at a church bazaar as a fundraiser for destitute Confederate families. The minister’s wife donated a black silk dress embroidered with butterflies, and other women contributed silk dresses and dressmaking scraps to use for the quilt. Each of the Log Cabin blocks was centered with one of the colorful butterflies. Someone supplied enough black-and-white-checked silk to make the back of the quilt. Someone else furnished silk ribbon to use for the binding.
The quiltmakers gathered to sew and talk about the sadness that had come to so many families. They gave thanks when their own relatives had been spared, and they comforted their companions who had experienced loss. In their earnestness, the women wanted to leave no doubt as to the purpose of their project. They applied brass sequins diagonally across the center of the quilt to form the words “FEED THE HUNGRY."
Forward to 1914 and the 1st World War—the Red Cross recruited knitters nationwide to clothe and comfort Allied soldiers, European civilians, and eventually, US troops. They distributed yarns, patterns and needles; advertised in local newspapers and magazines. John D. Rockefeller actually opened his mansion to knitters.
Some critics suggested that all this knitting was a waste of time, energy and resources, arguing that the items provided were more “comforts” than “necessities.” But soldiers in foxholes would probably have argued otherwise. Mary Pickford—perhaps the first celebrity knitter—knit between scenes of her latest photoplay in support on ongoing Red Cross efforts even after war was over—for refugees and hospitalized soldiers.
During World War II, the same type of effort was repeated. Maria Kaiser of Raleigh, NC, remembers her grandmother knitting scarves and helmet liners for troops. Maria remembers knitting in the dark of a movie theatre. Her mother knitted one scarf—her only knitting venture—and she said she felt sorry for the soldier who received it. Move forward in history to the year of the Selma-to-Montgomery march. A white Episcopal priest, who was the newly appointed head of an Alabama civil rights project, was driving south of Selma through desperately poor Wilcox Country to document cases of whites harassing blacks involved in the rights movement. He noticed a cabin clothesline from which were hanging three quilts in strong, hold colors in original patterns. He conceived the idea that the black women could increase their involvement in civil rights by mobilizing to sell patchwork quilts. Within weeks, the Freedom Quilting Bee was formed-- a hand craft cooperative, eventually acclaimed across the nation.During the late 1960s, early 70s, the Freedom Quilting Bee captured the attention of the New York world of fashion and interior design, sparking a nationwide revival of interest in patchwork quilts. The quilters began to earn significant money to supplement their family incomes, which had been averaging less than $1,000 a year. Formerly field hands with fingers callused by the lifelong chopping of cotton, the Freedom quilters became skilled artisans and self-styled business executives who, with determination, vision, and pride, began collectively to keep aflame an artistic endeavor central to the black culture of that Alabama community—which is now the largest employer of Wilcox Country.
There are several current projects whose knitters attempt to provide comfort across the world. The Ships Project—more than 100,000 knitters 275,000 items sent to Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait and Uzbekistan. Operation Toasty Toes sends warm slippers, hats, and other comfort items.
But today’s knitters and quilters do more than just supply articles to those in need—they use fiber arts as a tool to raise awareness and inspire thought and discussion. A woman in San Francisco started a project knitting small, GI Joe size sweaters for each death in Iraq--red, of course. Because of the increasing numbers of deaths, she had to limit it to American Death toll. At time she started, around 1,500. Connected in a chain and displayed on a tree in front of her house. As people across the country learned about her project, she was inundated with red sweaters from across the country.
Quilts especially have been used to bring people together. The Faith Quilts Project of Boston started in 2003. The project ended with 56 quilts representing diverse traditions as African-American, South east Asian Muslims, Baha’s, Native Americans. Mormons, Wiccans, Buddhists, Evangelical Christians, Seventh Day Adventists, Secular Humanists, Jews, and others.
The quilts were displayed this past April at several places in Boston. It was started as a way to visually express deeply held beliefs, to start a citywide exploration of faith and the human spirit, when the world in increasingly engaged in political wars for their beliefs. Project coordinators hope the quilts will challenge stereotypes and educate the public about the diversity of faith traditions, a form for discovering similarities as well as differences among faith communities.
And at the Harvard Divinity School in February 2005, quilters gathered together to decorate a quilt with self portraits to be sent to the West Bank City of Ramallah where it now hangs in a Quaker meeting house. One quilter, Vinny Dorio whose self-portrait included a tear, explained: “The whole Israeli-Palestinian conflict does make me very sad. But even a little thing like this, just to make this quilt for Ramalla, which someone sees and says, ‘We have to stop this.’ You never know.” Of the 30 participants, at least six were men. The quilts, representing the coming together of different peoples, express the longing to overcome human divisions.
Of course, we are all familiar with the AIDS Memorial Quilt, which dates back to 1985 and one San Francisco gay rights activist, who helped organized the annual candlelight march honoring those who died of AIDS. End of March, he put pieces of paper with the names of those victims on wall—He and his friends noted that it looked like a patchwork. Following year, they made the first panel and formed the Names Project Foundation and people in US cities started sending panels. Displayed the first time at the National Mall DC in October 1987—then, it was 1920 panels and covered a space larger than a football field, viewed by ½ million people. Since then, the quilt made tours of North America. The last time it was seen in its entirety was in 1996. Nominated for a Nobel Peace Price in 1989; the largest community art project in the world. The stated mission of the Aids Memorial quilt is to provide a creative means for remembrance and healing, to effectively illustrate the enormity of the AIDS pandemic, to increase awareness of HIV and AIDS throughout the general public, and to assist others in providing education on the prevention of HIV infection, and to raise funds for community-based AIDS service organizations. For anyone that hasn’t seen parts of it, the quilt measures approximately 12 feet square, and a typical block consists of eight individual three foot by six-foot panels sewn together: There are 44,000 panels to date. According to the Foundation, The Quilt has redefined the tradition of quilt-making in response to contemporary circumstances. A memorial, a tool for education and a work of art, the Quilt is a unique creation, an uncommon and uplifting response to the tragic loss of human life.
Another fiber project for social action that familiar to us is the Afghans for Afghans. Originally, a drive started by one woman in 2001 who aimed collect 5000 hand knit wool hats, mittens, sweaters, vests, and afghans to be sent to orphanages, clinics and children’s centers. Notes were often included. The afghans are not always perfect, but full of good thoughts.
Many more current projects—too numerous to name—and most were started by one person or a small group and then grew: caps for kids; hats for women undergoing cancer treatment; caps for preemies; prayer shawls.These projects provide ways for men and women with a yen to have needs of one kind or another in their hands and indulge in yarn or fabric; and from their hands come warmth, comfort and hopes for peace in the world. Closing words: We quilters and knitters work a powerful magic when we use our skills for others. By doing this, we can build bridges between warring nations, help to heal deep wounds, offer a primal sort of comfort, and create peace—however small, and in whatever way that may be--for others and ourselves
Sources: Christiansen, Betty. Knitting for Peace: Make the World a Better Place One Stitch at a Time. NY: Harry N. Abrams, 2006.“Quilters Hope to Link Patchwork of Views,” Rich Barlow, Boston Globe, February 17, 2007. www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2007/12/17/quilters_hope_to_link_a_patchwork ofviews. Access 10/28/07.The Pluralism Project of Harvard University: “The Faith Quilts Project (2006), www.pluralism.org/research/profies/display.php?profile-72650, Accessed 10/28/07The Aids Memorial Quilt, www.aidsquilt.org/index.htm; Accessed 11/3/07.Macdonald, Anne L. No Idle Hands: The Social History of American Knitting. NY: Ballantine Books, 1988.American’s Quilting History: Underground Railroad Quilts and Abolitionist Fairs. www.womenfolkd.com/quilting_history/abolitionist.htm. Accessed 11/3/07.Afghans for Afghans. http://www.afghansforafghjana.org/. Accessed 11/3/07.The Freedom Quilting Bee. www.ruraldevelopment.org/FQB.html. Accessed 11/3/07.
Labels: knitting, quilting, social justice
posted by UUCP Sermons at 2:29 PM
