70 is the new....?

Last night I went to the preview of the Arts and Crafts exhibits at the annual Sydney Royal Easter Show. The Easter Show is ten days or so in which primarily agricultural and pastoral events and exhibits come to the city. There are sheep and cattle and horse events and wool and cats and dogs and fruit and vegetables and flowers and (everybody's favourite) woodchopping. And there are also several categories for knitting, among other craft competitions.

Some of my friends deservedly won prizes at the Show, and some of the knitting - an ever-so-fine shawl in particular - was inspirational. And of course there were the perennial occurrences of beautiful garments overlooked for prizes; garments or shawls poorly displayed or even displayed inside-out; and the valuing of technique over design or any notion of fit-for-purpose. Lots of judgements up for debate. But we all had a great evening poring over the knitting, chatting, drinking wine and eating the snacks provided.

I was, however, astonished to discover cases of both knitting and crocheting reserved for competitors over 70. I imagine they've been there in past years, but maybe as I age I'm becoming more sensitive about such matters. To state my response bluntly, as a person approaching this age, I feel insulted and patronised by such categories.

I live in a state where discrimination on the grounds of age is illegal in such areas as employment and the provision of services. There is no longer a compulsory retirement age from work. The community is meant to provide employment or services on the grounds of the individual's characteristics, abilities and needs; not their age. Some people at 70 will be unable to do some jobs because of the requirements of those jobs, but that is also true of some people of 30. We should not make assessments of individuals and their capabilities simply because we have stereotypes about age (or gender, or race).

One of the areas exempted from age discrimination provisions under NSW law is sporting competitions. All the wonderful sporting events conducted for 'seniors' and 'veterans'(sometimes as young as 35) within age groups are permissible. Perhaps the Easter Show knitting people have used this kind of 'veteran' competition as a justification for their 'over 70' knitting classification. If so, I think they have overlooked a major difference. There is clear evidence that physical ability and strength for such things as athletics, swimming and some team games declines with age. But it seems counter-intuitive to me to think that knitting ability declines with age - indeed, one might make an argument that knitting is a craft where experience can only build greater expertise.

I can't imagine why people over 70 cannot succeed in open competition with younger knitters. Some people over 70 may not succeed, but this is not because of their age - it's an indication of their ability.

Or perhaps I've got the whole thing back to front - maybe the over 70s competition is to give younger knitters a chance of succeeding when compared with the older knitters' additional expertise. Hmmm. I don't think so.

I still find these age-based categories patronising and condescending.

Crafted chic

I'm somewhat addicted to decorating magazines. I think it's because they depict an ordered world that I would love to inhabit, but know I never will. Recently, as my renovation project is under way, I've been spending even more time than usual leafing through them - poring over the details of blinds, cupboard finishes, door handles, furniture arrangements, and, of course, paint colours.

Along the way I've noticed a recent trend to featuring hand-crafted textiles and fabrics, such as knitted cushions



and traditional afghan rugs.



The current July/August edition of 'Inside Out' has an article, 'Create a crocheted throw' with the subtitle 'hook into the newly respectable craft of crochet for a touch of Nanna chic'.



Nanna chic? urgh! Newly respectable? When was crochet not respectable? One might have accused crochet of being too respectable, but not respectable? The article goes on to assure us that

The beauty of crochet is that once you've worked out how to do one square - or in this case one hexagon - it's just a matter of repeating the process until you have enough squares for the sized rug you require, which is easily done while enjoying a favourite DVD.

I'm torn between pleasure that such magazines are featuring knitted and crocheted furnishings, and annoyance that they so underestimate the skill and effort that goes into their creation. And I'm still mentally composing my response to the use of the phrase 'Nanna chic'!

Language matters

I have a long term interest in the way we all use language both to reflect and to shape the world around us. In choosing the words we use we not only let people know what we are thinking, but often also how we feel about what we are thinking. Just lately I've been concerned (yet again) by some words that are used among knitters. Those of you who know me can probably guess what's coming next - this is not something about which I've been silent in the past.

I become very uncomfortable when people - particularly when knitters - use such terms as 'granny knitting' or 'nana knitting'. These are not neutral terms. They're invariably used to describe a style of knitting that the person using the term doesn't like and thinks is inferior. Such terms are a short-hand way of describing knitting that is some or all of the following - old-fashioned; unaware of what current fashions are; knitted from cheap and/or synthetic yarn; knitted in a colour or combination of colours that is unsubtle/unfashionable/generally unattractive; knitted to display technique regardless of style or attractiveness; unadventurous...I could go on, but I don't need to. We all have an idea of what the term encompasses.

Of course, many of us find this kind of knitting unappealing and may wish to publicly judge it to be so. What I have difficulty with is that the words 'nana' or 'granny' are used as a summary of these characteristics. I don't need people to reassure me personally that I'm excluded from this category. I'm an older woman and a grandmother and I'm sufficiently confident of my taste or disregarding of others' judgments to knit what I choose and not care what others think about it.

However, by associating a group of people (grandmothers) with a negative characteristic (unfashionable knitting) such phrases contribute to the unthinking devaluing of older women in our society. Well, I hope it's unthinking, because otherwise such language use is both unjustifiable and unjust.

So, if you don't like a particular kind of knitting, please think about what it is that you don't like and find appropriate words to describe it - is it an inappropriate combination of yarn and style? is it mismatched technique and pattern? is it unfashionable? is it boring? do you just not like it?

I can't imagine that the real reason some things are disparaged is just because they've been knitted by grandmothers.

Miscellany

Bits and pieces. Odds and ends. Transitions. Distractions. That's the way things feel at the moment with the bustle of Christmas approaching, with another year ending, and with the prospect of a new year ahead with all its possibility for change.

So, in this distracted spirit, a rather scattered and dispersed entry.

Whimsy



If you asked me, I would probably say that I really dislike things that might be described as 'whimsical'. Whimsy is too coy and too cute to appeal to me. Despite this, I've bought both editions of Ysolda Teague's 'Whimsical Little Knits'- the second of which arrived last week. I'm making the Scroll Lace Scarf from volume 2, using Knitabulous's 'Silkstream' - a rich, deep pink 100% silk yarn. I'm making it very slowly, as I've been distracted by Christmas gift knitting. Ysolda may see her creations as 'whimsical', but they also have the practicality of well-written, easy-to-follow instructions.

Delight

I work at a university, and last week the second year Industrial Design students held a market. The students had been given the task of designing a small white pottery vase that was inspired by a particular flower - daisies, tulips, irises among others. They then had to make an edition of ten vases, design and make the packaging, and sell them. Fortunately, my work group and I had read our notices that told us of the sale and were the first customers when the market opened.

What a great project. Some of the students sold all ten of their vases within ten minutes. All of them had sold within an hour. I bought three vases - initially thinking they could be gifts. But they look so good as a group I don't think I can bear to part with any single one.



The packaging (each piece individually made) was almost as wonderful as the vases.



Annoyance

This year I've been having my 'bah! Humbug!' Christmas moments about Christmas e-cards. I love getting real, ie paper, Christmas cards, though I'm not always so meticulous about sending them.



However wonderful the e-cards are - and some of them use beautiful images - they're not the same. They don't have the anticipation of opening the envelopes, the pleasure of reading the message that the sender has taken the trouble to write by hand, and then the indecision of where to display them. And I hate being told that e-cards are more environmentally friendly! They require two sheets of paper (one for the envelope, one for the card) once a year - a minuscule environmental cost compared to the advertising brochures that flood into my letter box - and they provide employment for the card designers and manufacturers and for the post office.

Oh, and I forgot to mention. Most of the e-cards are from companies I've never used or people I've barely encountered - people who would never bother to send me a 'real' card - so they're hardly a saving of any kind.

An injustice?

Today I took the train to work. As work is only one stop from home on the trainline, it's much of a muchness in terms of time whether I walk to work or take the train. The deciding factor is usually the weather. As it gets hot and sunny I usually take the train to avoid the sun - I'll do almost anything to avoid the sun.

Over the last few weeks there's been quite a few railway guards checking tickets at the station exit - the Devonshire Street exit from Central Station, which is the most convenient stop for a lot of tertiary education institutions - UTS, Sydney TAFE, and many private colleges. Invariably, I see the guards stopping people I assess to be international students - young, carrying backpacks or bags, almost always of Chinese or South Asian background.

My initial response was to be angry at the guards for what seemed like their casual racism. But once I'd stopped to think, what I'm actually angry at is an example of real systemic discrimination.

Except for the small group of exchange students, international students studying at tertiary institutions in New South Wales are not eligible for student travel concessions, though they are in all other states except Victoria. Some people (clearly including the NSW government) think they should not be eligible as they are not Australian citizens or permanent residents. However, many international students do work while they study and consequently pay Australian taxes, and all of them are paying fees of around $20,000 or more a year (that include a GST component) that cross-subsidise the university or TAFE education of local Australian students.

Under the Howard Liberal government, federal funding to higher education was drastically reduced over time and universities looked to other sources of income - principally the recruitment of international students. As Australian students pay significantly less in fees than the real cost of their study, the fees paid by international students have gradually become a significant source of funding for basic infrastructure and teaching that benefit both local and international students. I regard education as a public good and I'm certainly not arguing that Australian students should pay more, but it seems unjust to me that fees from students from developing countries such as China, India, Pakistan and even Bangladesh pay for the education of local students in a wealthy, developed economy. I guess this is just one of the many absurd outcomes of expecting market forces to find solutions to matters of public benefit.

So, back to the students being stopped by the guards at Central Station. Maybe they have invalidly claimed a student concession for their travel, or perhaps even tried to avoid payment altogether. I know that a belief in the unfairness of a law or rule is usually (though not always) no justification for flouting the law, but in this particular instance I would feel very hard done by if I were an international student. On the one hand they pay fees and taxes that support local students, and on the other hand they are not treated equitably.

International students, and student associations more broadly, have been protesting against the stupidity and injustice of the present system for years, but without a satisfactory outcome. International students don't have a vote, but maybe those of us who do should make this an issue in the next state election.

Blogging and social change

A couple of years ago, when I would have thought it impossible that I would ever have a blog, my daughter recommended that I read Sweet Juniper. It was love at first read. Sweet Juniper started as a parenting blog written by a father, but over time has become a more general reflection of Dutch's passions ('Dutch' is the blogger's nom de keyboard).

He lives with his family in Detroit, Michigan in the USA. He has chosen to live in this city - more generally a site of avoidance. The part of his blog I really like, apart from his photographs which are beyond wonderful, is his commentary on living in a once-grand industrial city that has become a reject of the post-industrial world.

But to get to the point of this entry. The Sweet Juniper blog and Dutch's photographs are now quite famous and from time to time he's asked to speak to groups about his work. I was catching up with his blog and read a post from April this year when he was asked to be part of a panel in Ann Arbor (I'll tell you my Ann Arbor/Detroit story another time) talking with a non-profit organisation that was considering integrating blogging into their outreach and fund-raising efforts. This is how he tells the story (forgive the long quote):

During my presentation, I showed them the photo of the tree growing from the books to explain how social bookmarking sites like digg and reddit can help reach beyond a particular audience or region to attract potential readers from all over the world. During the questions afterward, a member of a group of Detroit community activists stood up and angrily accused me of distorting the image of the city to the world, portraying only its ugliness, and she told me I should be ashamed. She had never read this website; she had only seen a few photos during the presentation.

After the room cleared, I tried to initiate a dialogue with these activists. The argument they posed was that there are many people working very hard to do positive things in Detroit and they have been doing so for many years before I arrived (I was called a carpetbagger, and replied that Detroit needs more carpetbaggers: about a million of them). To those working hard for positive change, any media attention perceived as negative (be it about crime or failing city schools or neighborhoods turning to prairie), is somehow a rebuke of their good deeds. These people attacking me were good people. But they were, in a sense, no different from the right-wing ideologues shouting endlessly during the worst days of the Iraq War that "the media never reports the good news in Iraq." I suppose I sympathize with any journalist unable to see past the dismembered corpses of suicide bombers and their victims to write only positive news.

I told these angry activists that I am not a reporter. I am just one man telling his story. If you don't like the story I'm telling, start your own blog and tell yours. That's how this works.

This post echoes, much more eloquently than I could manage, several conversations and discussions I've had recently - at work, with my friends, and within knitting circles. The way we spread information about our lives and our world is changing. We can't control the spread of information - even if we wanted to do so. We also can't control how people read and interpret the information we make available. What we can do is contribute a point of view and make sure that it is as interesting and engaging as possible. As Dutch says - that's how it works.