“For I am supposing our particular artist to be no gay tourist doing Europe according to guide-books, with perhaps few lessons, here and there, taken only for the name of having been a pupil of some distinguished master, but a thoroughly earnest worker, a lady, and poor, like so many of the profession, wishing to make the most of all opportunities, and the little bag of gold last as long as possible”(6).
In her book, she covers three art hubs, London, Paris, and Rome, providing information on means of travel, places to stay, artists to study with, galleries and museums to frequent, scenic sites for sketching and painting, and even stores to buy art supplies and clothing. A more useful document, I cannot imagine! Julia Dabbs concurs with this assessment in her article Empowering American Women Artists: TheTravel Writings of May Alcott Nieriker:
“Then as now, it is difficult to imagine a reader not being inspired by May’s words of encouragement, her practical advice, and her passion for art.”
Moderator’s Note: This piece is in co-operation with The Nasty Women Writers Project, a site dedicated to highlighting and amplifying the voices and visions of powerful women. The site was founded by sisters Theresa and Maria Dintino. To quote Theresa, “by doing this work we are expanding our own writer’s web for nourishment and support.” This was originally posted on their site on Oct 22, 2024. You can see more of their posts here.
The Orchard House, painted by May Alcott.
The youngest sister of Little Women author Louisa May Alcott, May Alcott Nieriker, was a successful artist. Her accomplishments were many and her unflappable relationship with her sister Louisa made it all possible. Here’s to sisterhood of all kinds, where unwavering love and support make so much possible!
Visiting the literary houses lining the streets of Concord, Massachusetts, I found myself in the Orchard House, a house and family made famous by Louisa May Alcott’s blockbuster novel Little Women (1868).
Entering an upstairs bedroom, I was struck by the artwork on the walls and was told it is the work of May, the youngest Alcott sister, Amy in Little Women. Her parents, progressives in their time, allowed her to paint and sketch on her bedroom walls. I was informed that most of the artwork displayed in the house is also that of May’s.
In late November I first snowshoed our woodland trails to include the little balsam that I lit to honor all evergreens throughout the winter months. Every day when my little dog and I circled the tree I told her I loved her and called her ‘Lightbringer’. This daily encounter never lost its magic. The Goddess Lived during the darkest winter nights!!
The rest speak to the subtle changes that occurred from late winter into spring. My writing naturally follows both seasonal and intraseasonal shifts that might not be noticed unless a person is paying close attention.
(1)Lightbringer
Will she still be there shining after the storm? Moon Bear is on the rise. I peer through white flakes at dawn light pierces her powdery fringed shawl Love lights the darkest Night.
Steadfast Balsam cloaked or not Ever-green, Tree of Life. Heartlines flow crystalline waters pour down deep sleep oh, Daughter of the Night Daughter of The Light, Light -Bringer Life -Bringer The Miracle Is that You Live.
Lewis, C. S. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Illustrated by Pauline Baynes, 1950
In the landscape of mid-twentieth-century children’s literature, C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia initially appears remarkably progressive. Long before modern fantasy embraced the trope of the fiercely independent heroine, Lewis gives us the Pevensie sisters, Jill Pole, Aravis, and Polly Plummer. These are active, clear-eyed adventurers. Lucy is the spiritual compass of the entire saga, possessing a theological clarity that routinely eludes her brothers. Jill braves subterranean terrors to rescue a captive prince, while Aravis flees an arranged marriage with the sharp wit of a seasoned survivalist. In Narnia, childhood is a meritocracy of spirit, and Lewis grants his young girls immense pluck, agency, and divine grace.
However, from a feminist and theological perspective, this grace comes with a strict expiration date, and a jarring ideological fracture occurs the moment a female character crosses the threshold into adult womanhood. I find that although Lewis champions the plucky girl, he displays narrative anxiety toward the grown woman. Could it be that in the Narnian universe, female maturity is treated as a spiritual fall from grace, an intersection where Christian purity is compromised by adult desire and bodily autonomy?
For five days this March, I gifted myself with a stay at the Meher Baba Center in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I often plan short getaways to help me find my center and decompress from everyday life. The contrast between “worlds” is very great when you’re staying in a pristine nature preserve with the overwhelming commercialism of Myrtle Beach right outside the gates. I knew that this retreat was helping me to deal with a similar conflict I felt in my body, from the pain and stress of living in this moment in time. Poems flowed easily, and I’m grateful for that.
Lagoon Bridge
Retreat in Myrtle Beach
A preserve of five hundred acres, here on the South Carolina coast, where fresh-water lagoons teem with waterbirds just across the forested dunes from the breaking ocean waves. Turtles sun in the grass, deer leap and raise generations. A preserve! and out beyond the gates, over the protecting wall, is Myrtle Beach, another type of Mecca. Come out the gate, and it’s “Hooters!” then, “Tsunami Beach Souvenir Shop!” (everything on sale!) then, “Maui Beach Miniature Golf,” with an exploding volcano! and of course, “the MAGA Megastore,” who’ll sell you anything you could want or need. This morning I awoke in my sweet-smelling cabin, little propane heater in the old fireplace keeping me warm. And here is the teaching: Plant your feet on the Earth. Love this greenness, these creatures, love Yourself, because the entire off-kilter, out-of-balance, koyaanisqatsi (*) world out there is depending on You: feet planted, head in the stars.
“What if the teachings within the Bible were not dualistic, but taught of oneness, connection, and the flow of energy?” (9) In The Music of Creation: Exploring Verse and Vibration in the Bible, Janet Rudolph (whom FAR readers already know as a FAR co-weaver) explores the definitions and vibrational elements of the sounds of original Hebrew words in the Bible. This is her latest book. In this book, Janet creates retranslations that express the energy, flow, dynamism and movement of the verses. She also discusses ways for readers to experience the power and potential of the verses for themselves. As she notes, Hebrew is a “sacred language” so that “the words themselves carry a vibrational element that we, as human beings, find meaningful and compelling” (3). In doing so, her retranslations revive the energy of “nature and its cyclical wisdom” (4). These are remnants of the original teachings, bringing forth their fresh beauty, inspiration, and world perspective we so need now.
“All the women knitted. . . . So much was closing around the women who sat knitting, knitting, that they their very selves were closing in around a structure yet unbuilt, where they were to sit knitting, knitting, counting dropping heads.”[i] – A Tale of Two Cities
So does Charles Dickens tell the tale of perhaps the most infamous resistance knitter, the character of Madame DeFarge in his A Tale of Two Cities. Using a different pattern of knots for each letter of the alphabet, Madame DeFarge uses her knitting to encode the names of spies and traitors to be beheaded by guillotine in the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror.
Tricoteuse
Her character is based on the true story of the tricoteuse – the women who notoriously knitted while sitting next to the guillotine. They undoubtedly took up this public position because just a few months before the Reign of Terror began they were banned from government proceedings and prohibited from forming any political assembly. Initially praised for their role in the resistance after successfully forcing Louis XVI to acquiesce to their demands following their march on the palace at Versailles protesting rising food prices, they had become too much of a threat to the aristocrats. It is said they were knitting liberty hats.
Fast forward to today. Begun with a simple “Melt the Ice” pattern designed by Paul Neary from the yarn shop in Minneapolis, Needle & Skein, women and men all over the world are once again knitting liberty hats. The red pointed hats are modeled after the nisselue — or “Santa hat”– that Norwegian women knit as a symbol of resistance to the Nazis who were occupying Norway during WW II. Needle & Skein made the pattern available for $5, with proceeds going to support rent and food assistance to those unable to leave their homes due to ICE’s ongoing presence in the Twin Cities. As of March 5th, they had already raised $705,000.
That the movement has become worldwide is extremely moving to those of us in Minnesota. It lets us know we are not alone. It has become a sisterhood of sorts, with a continual round of Facebook messages like this one from Elisabet Engström, “I am knitting the Melt the Ice hat right now. . . . It feels so good to be a part this. I live in Sweden. Happy knitting to all of you.” Another writes from Ibaraki, Japan, that has a cultural exchange program with Minneapolis, that she is knitting MTI hats “in solidarity and support.”[ii] I particularly loved this one, “I changed the pattern a bit, but I’m loving the resistance and how much it’s already earned for donation. I’m 82 and can no longer march, but I can do this.”[iii]
These days, at every protest I attend and just walking around town, I see people, mostly women, wearing the red Melt the Ice hats. There’s something particularly fortifying about wearing one’s convictions so visibly in solidarity with others doing the same. On the 84th anniversary of the Naz’s banning the wearing of the nisselue hats, people all around the world wore the red MTI hats they had inspired, proudly displaying their resistance to the occupation forces of ICE that have terrorized cities and immigrant communities throughout the US.
I first engaged in knitting resistance in 2009 when students in my course, “Women, Peace, and War” participated in CodePink’s Mother’s Day action against war, displaying a banner on the White House fence with the words, “We will not raise our children to kill another mother’s child.” CodePink sent out requests for 4X4 knit squares in pink yarn, and so we began to knit. Many of the students already knew how to knit. We taught those who did not. Most class sessions we were all busily knitting while discussing the readings on women’s roles in war and peace, and by the due date sent in a few dozen squares. It was a wonderful exercise in activist engagement that also brought us together as a community in the classroom and with other anti-war feminist activists throughout the country.
Many people first engaged in knitting resistance when Kat Coyle of Ravelry – the social group for knitters and crocheters – created a pattern for the “pussy hat”[iv] – a symbol of resistance to Donald Trump worn in the first Women’s March following his inauguration in 2017. The streets in Washington, DC and other cities across the country were filled with pink pussy hats.
Women’s March on Washington in 2017
These are just a few of the hundreds of ways knitting and other crafts have been used in resistance to oppression, tyranny, violence, and war. In 2003, Betsy Good coined “craftivism” – a combination of “craft” and “activism” – to describe this worldwide movement.[v] As one craftivist described it, craftivism is “a strategy for non-violent activism in the mode of do-it-yourself citizenship or do-it-together citizenship’.”[vi] Craftivist and author Sarah Corbette wrote, “To be a craftivist is not just to be someone who likes craft: it is to be someone who hones their craft to question injustice, encourage peace and show ways to achieve a better world for everybody involved.”[vii]
Craftivism includes all forms of fiber and needle arts – from knitting and crocheting to embroidery and quilting and more – from the use of quilts encoded with messages about the underground railroad and its resurgence as a medium for resistance during the Civil Rights movement to the AIDS memorial quilt,[viii] from suffragists’ embroidered banners for votes for women to the embroidered arpilleras of women in Chile to document human rights abuses during Pinochet’s regime. But the craft that is currently engaging so many is knitting. Knitting has featured prominently in anti-war resistance, such as the aforementioned CodePink banner. During WWI and II, knitting was central to resistance workers who knit secret messages into scarves and mittens and sweaters, using knit and purl stitches to represent dots and dashes in Morse Code, or dropping stitches in strategic places to represent German train activity. Women knit themselves into webs during anti-nuclear protests at Greenham Common in the 1980s and decorated the perimeter fence around the air base with ribbons and knit items. The British “Cast Off Knitting Club” knit grenade purses to protest the Iraq War and in the US Starhawk and fellow protestors created a yarn web around the Pentagon.
The Tempestry Project
Knitting has been used as a form of protest for countless other causes as well. Suffragists in the US knit, sewed, and embroidered banners with declarations of women’s right to vote. The “Tempestry” project was begun in 2016 in response to concerns that the incoming Trump administration would minimize climate data. Participants knit ‘temperature scarves’ with specific color-coding to record climate change data in various places in the US.[ix] The “Liberty Crochet Mural” – consisting of 40 individual crocheted squares assembled into a 17ft x 11ft yarn mural — celebrates women’s reproductive autonomy and freedom to choose. In the “Welcome Blanket” project — a response to the first Trump administration’s proposed 2,000-mile wall along the United States–Mexico border, Los Angeles artist Jayne Zweiman and dozens of other fiber artists knit, sewed, crocheted, and wove 3,500,640 yards of blankets to welcome immigrants.[x] And the Minnesota MTI hat is not the only anti-ICE knitting project. In Portland, Tracy Wright formed “Knitters Against Fascism,” which designed and promoted the Portland frog hat and conducts “knit-ins” outside the Portland ICE facility.[xi]
MTI hat in production
In Part II, more on knitting resistance and feminism, gentle protest, and community building – tomorrow
Laware, Margaret L. “Circling the Missiles and Staining Them Red: Feminist Rhetorical Invention and Strategies of Resistance at the Women’s Peace Camp at Greenham Common.” NWSAJournal, Vol. 16, No. 3 (Autumn, 2004), pp. 18-41.
[iv] The “pussy hat” was inspired as a protest against Trump’s infamous statement in a 2005 tape, “When you’re a star, they let you do it. Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”
[v] The term “craftivism” is usually attributed to Betsy Greer, but she actually coined the term when after she mentioned a connection between craft and activism, “Buzz,” one of the women in her knitting circle, said, “You could call it craftivism.” Greer then posted it on her online journal in 2000, and in 2003 bought domain named craftivism.com, which has become a worldwide network of craftivists.
[viii] Evidence suggests that quilt patterns such as the “Log Cabin” or “Flying Geese” may have been used in the Underground Railroad to provide coded messages to guide enslaved people to freedom. Women in the Civil Rights movement organized quilting circles as a form of resistance. The quilts made during the Civil Rights movement were often sold to raise funds for the movement. The AIDS memorial quilt originated in San Francisco in 1985 to memorialize those lost to AIDS. Gert McMullin, the ‘mother’ of the quilt, sewed the first stitch and since then 50,000 panels have been added, honoring more than 110,000 individuals. Weighing 54, it is thought to be the largest community art project ever created. It has raised more than $3 million dollars for AIDS services. Other famous resistance quilts include The Border Wall Quilt Project, a collection of 8” x 16” quilt pieces expressing concern about the border wall and the Broken Treaty quilts, created by Gina Adams, with texts taken from treaties to demonstrate the broken promises and injustices to indigenous peoples.
[x] The project quickly exceeded its goal and aims to encircle the globe in 36,521 handmade pieces. 8,000 have been collected so far. To learn more or participate, see Welcome Blanket.
[xi] The proceeds from the sale of the pattern have raised $500 for local food shelves.
Moderator’s Note: This piece is in co-operation with The Nasty Women Writers Project, a site dedicated to highlighting and amplifying the voices and visions of powerful women. The site was founded by sisters Theresa and Maria Dintino. To quote Theresa, “by doing this work we are expanding our own writer’s web for nourishment and support.” This was originally posted on their site on March 4, 2025. You can see more of their posts here.
Out of forty monuments along the National Mall in Washington, DC, none celebrate women and their contribution to American history.
One of our NWW [Nasty Women Writers] categories is Breaking the Bronze Ceiling where we track the effort to increase the number of monuments dedicated to real women in public spaces.
I’ve made many trips to Washington, DC, trekking the National Mall specifically to visit monuments. Why didn’t I notice women were missing? Am I so conditioned to not seeing women recognized and honored at the highest levels that I don’t even expect it or question their absence?
I felt ignorant and complicit.
It’s 2025 and there is not a single monument to honor women on our National Mall, a place that “draws roughly 36 million visitors a year, more than Yosemite, Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon combined”(Schuessler).
Annie Anderson, Beauty and the Beast, wikimedia commons, public domain
For most of cinematic history, the moral universe of film was anchored in clarity. The hero was dharmic—principled, disciplined, and guided by a moral compass that was neither ambiguous nor negotiable. The villain, by contrast, represented a clear rupture in the ethical order. Actions had consequences; justice was intelligible; human beings possessed agency, responsibility, and accountability. Main stream cinema reflected a world in which right and wrong, virtue and vice, were not merely narrative devices but metaphysical coordinates. One could locate a character on the map of moral compass with precision.
Older Indian cinema often adhered to a strong moral framework in which even the most charismatic or beloved protagonists were ultimately required to pay for their transgressions on screen. Unlike today’s era of morally ambiguous films—where anti-heroes may triumph, consequences are negotiable, and ethical lines are intentionally blurred—classic cinema rarely allowed wrongdoing to go unpunished. Yet this does not mean that earlier films lacked sophistication or ambiguity; rather, they explored moral conflict within a clear ethical horizon, allowing audiences to empathize deeply with flawed characters while still witnessing their inevitable downfall. For example, in Deewaar (1975), Amitabh Bachchan’s Vijay becomes an iconic rebel whom audiences passionately sympathize with, yet he must die in the end to restore moral order. In Parwana (1971), his obsessive, morally dark character meets a tragic ending, demonstrating the same principle. Even beyond Bachchan, iconic villains like Gabbar Singh in Sholay (1975) was originally written to die as a narrative necessity. Through such storytelling, older cinema balanced empathy with accountability, illustrating that complexity and moral clarity once powerfully coexisted.
I write to find out who I am becoming and when I implored Sedna to take me back to the sea I came to know my roots to Place were broken by age by betrayal by loneliness by advocating for a planet animals, trees by people who do not listen by people who will not see
like Mother Pine moaning outside my door I too moan Unforgiving Ice and Wind Treachery on every path Trees encased in White
At the Bottom of the Well Water Murmured accept this Break
Underground Mycorrhizal threads remain your Guides
Sedna rises meets you on dry land for the second time in one year
Feminism and Religion 