In the store yesterday, there was a customer who was filled with outrage. She was outraged about NCLB, and after all, who isn’t? She was also outraged that she had been “Highly Qualified” in Illinois but would have to take more tests to reach that designation in our state.
I was commiserating with her. So often people are expressing outrage over things that I can’t agree with them on for fear of offending other customers. It was nice to be able to agree and sympathize.
The Empress had a customer the other day who — having heard the end of some of those Are We Related? pleasantries she often shares with customers, being from here — started off his talk with her by saying, “Speaking of genealogy, do you know what ‘Caucasian’ really means?”
It could have been worse. He went on to tell her about the Lost Tribes of Israel and how Jesus was rich, what with having traveled the world with Joseph of Arithmea, built a house for Mary in England, and cleaned out the copper mines of New York.
She was glad when he left.
My outraged customer, however, moved on to express outrage that she had seen, in a workshop she had attended, a fellow teacher sitting and —
At this point she mimed knitting. Not very well. But well enough that I was prepared when the word burst forth; “Knitting! The whole time!”
A teacher over at the laminator chimed in that she had seen someone knitting in church!
I had to defend knitters.
The thing is, people who don’t knit think that the knitting means we are not paying attention. This might be true
with Erin (at right), or any other project that requires close attention to a chart, but a nice long spell of stockinette? We can pay rapt attention while our hands are busy. Didn’t Miss Marple and Miss Silver catch all those little discrepancies and clues while knitting endless quantities of matinee coats and wooly fascinators?
I wouldn’t knit in church, at work, or in any other situation where someone might be offended by the possibility that I wasn’t paying attention. A workshop? Could be. Not if I were presenting it, but if it were the kind where you sit still and listen for several hours, why not?
(I’ve come back after Ozarque’s comment to point out that plain knitting doesn’t have to be looked at, so I can make normal eye contact. If that weren’t true, I would feel differently about it.)
I don’t generally hesitate to work on a zombie project when I have guests, and my only problem with knitting in the movies is that it can be too dark to catch a dropped stitch.
Miss Manners says it is okay to knit during conversations, as long as you don’t explain that you are doing it so as not to waste time.
But there it is. A harmless knitter unwittingly adding to the overall level of outrage in the world. Perhaps you and I have done the same.
I’m glad Miss Manners says it is ok and I like her note on what not to say about it.
Well, we can try to educate the people around us.
I’m astounded at times by the general ignorance on the subject of knitting.
I was knitting in a restaurant which happened to have a bar one evening (before the pizza arrived) and a woman came over and wanted to know why I was “knitting in a bar.” My answer was “this is where I am.” She was incapable of understanding that answer. And I tried hard to explain.
One day at an air show, while knitting a sock, I had at least 50 people ask what I was doing! I was shocked at how many people couldn’t recognize knitting. My ex-husband opined that it was the 5 needles that confused them.
Clearly, we knitters have to educate the people around us.
It’s nice to know that Miss Manners feels we’re not being rude, though.
Roughly the third sentence I utter when I’m teaching anything [class, seminar, workshop, whatever] is this one:
“It’s perfectly all right for you to do needlework while I’m talking, or to doodle while I’m talking, or to take notes while I’m talking. It won’t offend me in any way.” And it doesn’t.
If what I’m saying isn’t interesting enough to hold my listeners’ attention while they’re needleworking or doodling or taking notes, that’s my problem, not theirs, and I hope I would be able to learn from it. If I need for them to pay especially close attention at some point, or to look straight at me, or some such thing, I can always say so.
I find it relaxing having conversations with knitters. The knitter is relaxed and that relaxation spreads to the non-knitters in the conversation.
RYC: We used to be thought of as 20 yrs behind the rest of the developed world as far as economy and technology were concerned. That is probably not the case now but the habit sometime re-emerges.
It’s probably the fact that we are a very small land mass surrounded by the sea that keeps our climate temperate. I think the sea is generally warmer than winter air so that stops us getting the sort of cold you get. Thanks goodness.
I crochet. I’ve been known to do it at conference meetings. I find that I pay *more* attention when crocheting because it keeps my hands and part of my mind occupied instead of doodling and my mind wandering onto unrelated topics! There is at least one knitter at my church. She usually works on socks.
I worked with a woman who would knit at every opportunity (she and I co-taught a class) – it bothered some students and not others. As one explores learning styles and learning “disabilities” (I wish there was a better-worded classification), one finds that oftentimes people who do something with their hands (like knit) pay WAY MORE attention than those who do not. I’m never bothered when my students doodle or knit, or fiddle with things because I know why. I don’t, however, encourage computer/Internet use or reading. Those are distractions. I like what _ozarque_ said. It’s a good opening comment.