Knitting Resistance: Part Two, by Beth Bartlett

Part 1 was posted yesterday

Knitting and other forms of needlework made a resurgence when Second Wave feminism reclaimed traditional “women’s work” as a form of feminist expression, promoting crafting as a tool of feminist empowerment. The most prominent example of this was Judy Chicago’s 1979 The Dinner Party that celebrated prominent female historical and mythical figures. A massive artwork, it consists of 539 quilted triangle pieces from all over the world, embroidered place banners, and ceramic plates arranged on a large triangular table.

Women form the vast majority of those engaged in knitting resistance,[i] and beyond the reclamation of women’s domestic arts, craftivism provides women a voice that is often usurped and talked over in masculine political spaces.  As one of the participants in a resistance knitting circle that was studied by feminist scholars stated, “’Because politics is still very sexist and configured for men . . . I think women don’t get very far . . . I think craftivism is . . . something that’s accessible to women . . . and is an alternative form of expression.”[ii] 

Knitting as a form of resistance has been criticized as being a “white women” project, primarily due to the predominance of white women in knitting magazines, patterns, and posters, but Black women in particular have made efforts to correct that notion. The famous 19^th century feminist activist Sojourner Truth insisted on holding her knitting in portraits taken of her to show the importance of knitting which she regarded as a crucial skill, one she taught to formerly enslaved women to provide self-sufficiency and empowerment. The Yarn Mission, formed by CheyOnna Sewell in St. Louis in 2014 in response to police violence after Ferguson, is centered around knitting for Black Liberation but with an intersectional lens, emphasizing justice and anti-oppression resistance for all marginalized people.[iii]  “Is knitting traditionally a white activity?” questioned Sewell. “Absolutely not. Knitting has often been a tool for sustainability and survival. A way to stay warm. A way to comfort and protect our loved ones. This has been true for many cultures.”[iv] “As a black woman, you’re invisible,” said Yarn Mission member Taylor Payne to Sarah Kendzior, a Guardian reporter. “But knitting makes people stop and have a conversation with you. If someone asks me what I’m doing, I say, ‘I’m knitting for black liberation,’”  — creating an opening for dialogue about race and racism that other forms of activism do not.

What is the specific appeal of knitting as a form of activism? Sarah Corbette most famously defined knitting and other craftivism as a form of “gentle protest.” After engaging in activism for years, she felt burnt-out. “I didn’t like shouting, demonizing people or telling people what to do . . . stitching calmed me down, . . . “ [v]  She continued, “We need to stop seeing protest as only being about shouting in a crowd and start having the kind of smaller conversations that actually connect to fellow human beings and help to influence them gently . . .  and with kindness, decency, and thoughtfulness.” [vi]  Knitting resisters also contend that this form of protest is more effective.  “You don’t change your mind if somebody comes and shouts in your face,” said one knitter, “your minds change with conversation, discussion and calm debate. That’s what I’m trying to do . . . and I think that’s true to a lot of craftivism that I’ve seen.”[vii]

The calming influence Corbette mentioned has been an important part of knitting resistance. The women who participate in the Yarn Mission credit knitting as a form of activism that helps relieve the stress of daily racism and acts as a solace for their community still wounded by police violence. Similarly, a friend, writing about her discomfort with conflict and dissent while also recognizing that it is an integral part of creating change wrote, “Having a crochet project in hand is my strategy for metabolizing that discomfort instead of getting reactive.”[viii]   And this is the case not only for the knitters but also for those witnessing them. As reported by the Duluth Monitor after a particularly contentious City Council meeting: “Amid the deteriorating circus of Duluth City Council meetings, pockets of civilization still remain.  At yesterday’s meeting, as speakers came and went and two men nearly came to blows in the back of the room, the steady movements of knitting hands exerted a calming influence on the room.”

Knitting resistance does far more than create calm and artifacts and symbols of resistance and protest.  It knits together the fabric of communities of resistance. As Corbette wrote, “Making the same thing together and struggling together . . .  helps create a sense of community. . . .”[ix] Over and over again, knitting resisters talk about the act of knitting resistance projects together – whether in the same room, in collectives, or in far-flung internet communities – as creating connection and, in Corbette’s words, “. . . a sense of common purpose, bigger than ourselves, a sense of solidarity and reminder that we are not alone in our fight to eradicate unloving practices in our world.”[x]  Those researching the Pussyhat Project similarly noted the sense of solidarity in the way participants talked about their involvement: “The pronoun ‘we’ appears in every sentence on the homepage . . . ‘We are crafters’; ‘We are a Worldwide Movement’; ‘We support women’s rights’; ‘We did it! We created a sea of pink!’”[xi]  Chloe, one of the women interviewed in the knitting circle said, “’It does feel like it’s a collaborative form of protest rather than a . . . male anger form of protest. . . . I feel it is a very female way of going about things. . . “[xii], and I think that’s true . . . [of] a lot of craftivism that I’ve seen.” And as one of the other knitters, Abby, noted, ‘Feeling like a small part of something larger is really an important aspect of it . . .That’s where the power of it is . . . It’s that coming together with others.’”[xiii]  As I knit Melt the Ice hats, I have felt that same sense of solidarity with all of us knitting MTI hats as we post problems, solutions, and variations on Facebook and other social platforms; as we collectively created the shortage of red yarn; as I’ve gifted the hats to friends; and as I look out at the many of us wearing red hats at protests and around town.

In surprising and perhaps unseen ways, the collective combined efforts of small acts of individual knitters have created compelling and profound resistance movements. “People consistently underestimate the power of knitting. They don’t recognize its radical properties,” said Sewell.[xiv]  Ultimately, knitting resisters regard this form of activism as being motivated by an unconditional love for the cause, whatever it may be, for humanity and earth, and for each other. Said one of the Pussyhat knitters, “The way in which this project connected human hearts was amazing. Love is the most powerful thing on earth.’ “[xv]  Just as I was about to post this, this quote came across my feed: ” Some folks question the validity of creating MTI resistance hats; wrong color, not ‘authentic’ version, wearing one makes you a ‘target’ etc.  . . . My thoughts go to the intention behind the process; my version averages 80+ rows x 104 stitches… that’s 8320 stitches per hat focused on a better, safer America. 15 hats = 124800 stitches of hope and love for America’s healing.”[xvi] And so, with needles and yarn we knit together our hearts, our lives, r resistance – making the world better with each stitch. 

Note: The Melt the Ice Project is ongoing and the Twin Cities are still under siege by ICE.  To support or participate, see Melt the ICE Hat | Needle and Skein.

References

Corbette, Sarah P. How to Be a Craftivist: The art of gentle protest.  Unbound. 2018.

Duluth Monitor, February 24 at 7:46 PM.

Ellis, Corinne Freedman. Facebook post. 2/25/26.

Ferguson’s radical knitters: “If someone asks me what I’m doing, I say, ‘I’m knitting for black liberation” | Ferguson | The Guardian 

Literat, Iona and Sandra Marku. “‘Crafting a way forward’: online participation, craftivism and civic engagement in Ravelry’s Pussyhat Project group.”  Information, Communication & Society 2020, VOL. 23, NO. 10, 1411–1426 https://doi.org/10.1080/1369118X.2019.157391.

Parnell, Julia Arthur. 50501 Project Washington Facebook post, 3/5/26.

The Yarn Mission | The Yarn Mission knits for Black Liberation.

Vachhani, Sheena J., Emma Bell, and Alexandra Bristow. “The Affective Micropolitics of Craftivism: Organizing social change through minor gesture.” Organization Studies 2025, Vol. 46(4) 525 –547.

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[i] The Amazon analytics service that provides internet traffic data shows the gender split of Ravelry is around 98% female and 2% male. They also show that the participants tend to be older than the average population.

[ii] Fiona, in Vachhani, 533.

[iii] She formed a second chapter in Minneapolis in 2015.

[iv] “Ferguson’s Radical Knitters.” The Guardian.

[v] Corbette, 5.

[vi] Corbette, 35 & 44.

[vii] Chloe, in Vachhani, 533.

[viii] Ellis.

[ix] Corbette, 90.

[x] Corbett, 92.

[xi] Literat, 1421.

[xii] Vachhani, 533-34.

[xiii] Ibid., 535.

[xiv] “Ferguson’s Radical Knitters.” The Guardian.

[xv] Literat, 1419.

[xvi] Parnell.