Guilty and over-politically-correct white people. This post is directly told from the thoughts of a man who has dealt with, combatted, and has built a community of individuals who will attest to this. The subject is the naked, ugly, harsh, and untamed personal catharsis of one man who has had enough and decided to speak out. Your objections and thoughts will fall upon deaf ears if you refuse to see or at least try to understand why this needs to be said.
American youth are among the freest in the world. given the limitless free time and billions of dollars spent on your own experiences and enjoyment just gives you more reason to believe the world is yours on a silver platter. in truth, some of your parents encourage this as it relates to their aesthetic or sickeningly vicarious beliefs of what your youth should be like. You are the lucky ones.
To millions of youth in America we pine for the freedoms that our families will never understand. brought up under a veil of terrifying and twisted discipline, a culture that does more to harm than help; many students from ethnic families are brought up in a sadistic paradox of society in which they live amongst these free youth and are never allowed to have it. Their parents, brought here by distant shores and form ethnic ghettos that lead to horror stories of Honor Killings in the US of horrific family slaughters. while these are not the extremes i boast from experience this is a foretaste into a problem in American culture that is in serious need for change.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Being Knit Worthy
My Mother is no longer knit worthy. There, I've said it.
As a knitter, there comes a time where the muggles... and some squib knitters will covet your next wooly creation for one of two reasons. The first being that you have no need for the seemingly endless amount of garments and things you knit... which in their eyes can only be for you and not those who commission your work. to these people you merely do it for the fun of it, and while this may be true to some extent, that sixty dollars really helps! while the second type is for the attention they would get for your creations. showing it off at church to your tacky friends and bragging about how my son knits all my creations custom for me.
My first projects for my mother were minor things. A tacky fun fur scarf in 2004, a hat, and a pair of worsted weight socks -all of which she never wore. For mothers day of 2014 I decided that the blue shawl I was knitting for during chemo would make a nicer gift, even though this black linebacker would have rocked a blue shawl over his leather jacket, I did the right thing and gave it off to mom. On mothers day she looked at it, gave a half smile then put it back in the bag. I haven't seen the bag again until November of the same year when my aunt was helping her pull her winter purses out of storage and happened upon it in the same bag, with the same pink tissue paper. My aunt, who is much more crafty and art minded took one look at it and gasped so loud we swore she would burst... and she did!
"Who made you this wonderful shawl?" she gasped. My mother looked up and mentioned that I did and turned back to her Korean drama. "well seeing as you never wear the knitted goods he makes, I will just take it off your hands". No sooner had she said that my mother snapped back, "NO, it's mine. I was planning on wearing it to church." And she did, after almost forgetting it that morning and forcing me to run back to her room to find it.
What happened that evening, was a strange change. She beamed about the compliments and the inquiries of the fine lace shawl. clearly the envy of each lady who came by. My work was adored by the ladies of the church who all craved a creation of their own.
What I wasn't prepared for was the months of entitlement arguments I had with her about who's shawls they were. often time they ended with "you can make another one, right?"
Knitters and the muggles who love what we do understand the time and effort that hours of work can produce. However, the unworthy like my mother fail to grasp this mere concept. the more gauche cousin will always brag to the family about stealing my work and has on occasion tried to snatch it from me... until a nasty run in with a rogue blocking pin landed her with a lesson to never forget. (To be fair, she shouldn't have tried to steal it while it was still on the blocking board-oops!)
As a knitter, there comes a time where the muggles... and some squib knitters will covet your next wooly creation for one of two reasons. The first being that you have no need for the seemingly endless amount of garments and things you knit... which in their eyes can only be for you and not those who commission your work. to these people you merely do it for the fun of it, and while this may be true to some extent, that sixty dollars really helps! while the second type is for the attention they would get for your creations. showing it off at church to your tacky friends and bragging about how my son knits all my creations custom for me.
My first projects for my mother were minor things. A tacky fun fur scarf in 2004, a hat, and a pair of worsted weight socks -all of which she never wore. For mothers day of 2014 I decided that the blue shawl I was knitting for during chemo would make a nicer gift, even though this black linebacker would have rocked a blue shawl over his leather jacket, I did the right thing and gave it off to mom. On mothers day she looked at it, gave a half smile then put it back in the bag. I haven't seen the bag again until November of the same year when my aunt was helping her pull her winter purses out of storage and happened upon it in the same bag, with the same pink tissue paper. My aunt, who is much more crafty and art minded took one look at it and gasped so loud we swore she would burst... and she did!
"Who made you this wonderful shawl?" she gasped. My mother looked up and mentioned that I did and turned back to her Korean drama. "well seeing as you never wear the knitted goods he makes, I will just take it off your hands". No sooner had she said that my mother snapped back, "NO, it's mine. I was planning on wearing it to church." And she did, after almost forgetting it that morning and forcing me to run back to her room to find it.
What happened that evening, was a strange change. She beamed about the compliments and the inquiries of the fine lace shawl. clearly the envy of each lady who came by. My work was adored by the ladies of the church who all craved a creation of their own.
What I wasn't prepared for was the months of entitlement arguments I had with her about who's shawls they were. often time they ended with "you can make another one, right?"
Knitters and the muggles who love what we do understand the time and effort that hours of work can produce. However, the unworthy like my mother fail to grasp this mere concept. the more gauche cousin will always brag to the family about stealing my work and has on occasion tried to snatch it from me... until a nasty run in with a rogue blocking pin landed her with a lesson to never forget. (To be fair, she shouldn't have tried to steal it while it was still on the blocking board-oops!)
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