A glimpse of the maker through the making
On collective learning in a circular classroom
Hello, I'm Josefin, a spinner of wool and crafter of words. In this space I practice being brave with my words to mold them into beauty. If you enjoy evocative writing about the little things in a big world, this space is for you. Bring your favourite tea mug and come sit beside me.
The silence in the classroom a few minutes after class has begun is classic – after some initial fussing about, the students settle in the zone, in being in hands and mind, in the rhythm of making in mutual silence. The movement of wool across carding pads, the dance of spindles in the air, shift the atmosphere. Only the wool is talking; stretching between attentive hands, whispering to the spinner how long its fibers are, how they glide, and how they move past each other. About thin spots and tangles. Hands learn how to listen to the wool; how to interpret and understand the answers it provides.
I've spent the past five days teaching my annual summer course A Spindle A Day. The course takes place at the Sätergläntan Institute of Sloyd and Crafts in County Dalarna in Sweden, a former summer pasture set on the top of a hill, overlooking the valley. The sisters who founded the institute a century ago named the place after its location, the glimpse of/the glade at the summer pasture. Former granaries spread out like beads on a string across the meadows serve as lodgings for the daring; the rest of us sleep a little less rustic. The pasture tradition is still practiced, though – a handful of sheep graze gently just outside my cottage window.
There are six parallel courses this week – in wood turning, knitting design, birch bark weaving, trouser sewing, rya knot weaving and spindle spinning, with around ten students in every classroom. All of us have making in our hearts and there is crafting in every nook and cranny of classrooms and lodgings. A carved drawer button, a handwoven bed spread, and forged door handles to die for. All bearing witness to the loving hands that made them, nourishing crafting souls in a world where making for joy seems to be decreasing at a time when we need it the most.
There are nine students in the circle of chairs in my classroom. Our lives and experiences get unraveled through the progression of the course, spun into the yarn and spilled into the center of the ring. No one sits in front of or behind anyone else – we are equal here, regardless of previous spinning experience. We can all take part of what is being said, and of each other's learning processes, cheer fellow students on and see everybody’s progress and setbacks. One student, who has learned to spin via YouTube, says she has never seen anybody spin in reality before. In the classroom she gets a chance to step into other students' explorations. The conversation in the ring is kind and humble. Not everybody takes active part in the dialogue; still they are there, observing, listening, re-kneading to fit their understanding. The slowness of the making creates space for acceptance and a distance to the made. My students are not afraid of failure, they see only new experiences and opportunities to explore. All the while I soak in the way they learn, to be able to meet them where they are.
As I watch them spin in silence, I feel privileged for my chance to peek into their lives, their learning styles and the way they approach the new tools and processes.
What was awkward on Monday, still new on Tuesday, tingling in fingers on Wednesday, turn on Friday into a set of skills they can handle, make decisions from and thoroughly enjoy. From wonky wool preparations to even pieces of delight, they learn to trust their hands to listen to the wool and do its bidding.
"I want to spin an impractical yarn!", says one student at the wool tasting session I invite them to on the last day. "I want to see what happens when I spin, what level of practicality I need in my yarn". By that final day they have learned to make decisions from their fresh bank of experiences and from their skill level. I can just sit back and proudly absorb the beauty of their making. I get a glimpse of how nine souls learn, grow and trust in that ring of chairs.
P.S. If you want to learn how to spin on spindles or take courses for intermediate or advanced spinners, do pop in to my online spinning school. You will find free and paid courses, workshops and lectures.