I have a bit of a confession to make. I enjoy making crafts. Hold on just a moment while I give my friends and family a chance to catch their breath because right now their heads are exploding.
I have always stated how much I dislike arts and crafts, but the truth is that has changed a bit. It's taken a while, but I feel like I have finally rid myself of the comments of the grade 3 teacher who told me my drawing wasn’t good enough to include in a class project. I’ve shared the story before, as well as the reality that her words stuck with me for a long time. From that point on I believed I couldn't draw, color, paint, or do anything worthy in art. It had a profound impact on the rest of my years in school. If teachers gave options to either create an art project or write an essay, I chose the essay every time. My friends thought I was crazy. I was simply trying to protect myself. I was terrified of being told my work was not only deficient, but totally unworthy.
I should be grateful that her comment set me on a path to love writing, but nonetheless, those words stayed with me and I've always maintained I don't like crafts. The discovery that has emerged over the last while is there are a few things I really enjoy making. I now even shop at craft stores for supplies, instead of purchasing the finished product!
I still don't draw and no, I won't put anyone through the frustration of trying to play Pictionary with me, but I have become mighty handy with a hot glue gun and find myself looking forward to opportunities to see what I can make next. Proof of all this? My Google feed used to be filled with sports and politics but now I am being served all kinds of DIY craft videos based on more recent searches. It's all been much better for the soul.
I come from a long line of Norwegians, the nationality that brought us some of the best baking, mittens and sweaters on the planet. Yes, it's also the same people who decided to soak white fish in lye, but I’ll focus on the other stuff.
One of the Norwegian specialties I love most is lefse, a thin, soft flatbread made from potatoes that requires careful rolling and grilling. When my sister and I were young adults our great aunt Judy took the time and taught us the skills needed to turn out many pieces of this traditional specialty. We watched, listened and then tried our hand at it as she patiently coached us through the process.
Last week I witnessed a group of lefse-making veterans take some rookies under their wing and demonstrate the kind of patience Auntie Judy showed me. Did I do it well at first? No. But I was given encouragement and over the years I continued trying and improving. Contrast that with teacher X who shattered my belief in being able to make anything worthwhile.
So what changed for me? Well, I stopped worrying about what other people might think. No, my crafts can't compete with those of others, but that does not matter. It shouldn't look like it was done by anyone else other than me because then what is the point?
Whether it is a painting, wreath, blanket, or yes, a piece of lefse, each of us needs to bring our own self to whatever project we are doing. Handmade should be as it sounds—made by our own hands—not trying to be an imitation of someone else.
We can pass on a lot of things to the next generation by letting them watch us work hard and be creative. The next step is taking the time to teach and letting them have a try at it themselves so the legacy of handmade projects can continue. It may mean having patience with clumsy and inexperienced hands, but skills can improve if someone is given advice and encouragement.
I carried Mrs. X's criticism in my head too long and robbed myself of opportunities. But today I proudly display my inaugural crafts, not to impress others, but to delight in something that now brings me joy.
From one generation to the next, our hardworking hands, words of instruction, and pride in tradition will ensure customs and arts will continue. I will do my little part in keeping the ball…and the lefse…rolling. That's my outlook.
