Ten Lessons Learned While Sewing
By Qiana Nichol Harps
Every quilt starts as a patch. Every adult starts as a child.
Destiny Coleman anchors the first patch of her quilt with her elbow. She runs the fabric under the sewing machine, little by little, careful not to catch her own delicate hands under the bobbing needle. She works diligently with focus in her eyes. Destiny stops for a few seconds and opens the machine. "Sometimes the thread gets stuck," she says as she unwinds and repositions the thread to continue.
At the main workstation Alexis Glover and Ashia Lenox work together to help Brianna Glover complete a quilt exploding with plaid, floral and polka dot squares. Brianna works on a new quilt, trying to keep her mind on the task in front of her.
Behind this group, wearing a jean skirt and a silver chain bearing her first name, Courtney Gallardo helps Samantha Radcliff create a star pattern on a quilt. Courtney likes quilting because it's relaxing.
A few feet away, in a red T-shirt and flowered shorts, Ranesha Sanders works with her eyes and hands while Jasmine Lampley sits in a red chair and tells one of her many stories about her family. Jasmine talks about her aunt as Ranesha begins to hum to the sounds of Stevie Wonder playing on the small boom box nearby. It's a scene that plays out in rocking chairs on front porches and on senior citizen activity boards across the country. But some of the women of this quilting circle haven't even gone through puberty.
The ladies of the Quilting 1 and Quilting 2 classes at the Youth Arts Corps located in the Wildwood Recreation Center, 1000 28th St. S., are between the ages of 8 and 13.
Lesson #1: Think about the pain and it hurts worse.
Brianna works on her first quilt despite the pain of a loose tooth; she'll be 8 next Tuesday.
"It's going to keep hurting if you don't leave it alone," classroom assistant Crystal McClendon, 20, told Brianna, who wiggles the bottom-row tooth with her right hand and holds her completed masterpiece with the left. The quilt consists of four different floral designs that fit together like a patchwork puzzle. The colors are splashes of the deep colors of fall.
McClendon, whom everyone calls Ms. Crystal, attended the Youth Arts Corps after-school program for five years and learned to sew straight just a few days before the class began in May. She learned out of necessity, so she could teach others. She doesn't claim to be an expert.
She leaves that title to the head stitchers, mother-daughter team, Sarah Ellis, 70, and Gwendolyn Williams, 52.
Lesson #2: An old skill is never lost.
"As soon as I could hold a needle, I was making doll clothes," says Ms. Gwen, who learned to hold that needle from her mother, Sarah Ellis, Ms. Sarah in the classroom. Ms. Sarah says before her daughter was out of high school, she made all of Gwen's clothes. At the time, she was into the lacy stuff. When Ms. Sarah got a better job, she realized she didn't have to make clothes anymore, she could buy them. She stopped sewing.
Ms. Sarah picked it back up last year at a quilting class for seniors. The instructor, Popoola Trudy, invited Ms. Sarah to teach at the Youth Arts Corps. Ms. Sarah brought Ms. Gwen along as a volunteer and they were both hired as instructors of the class that goes from May 24 to July 31.
The duo teaches the Quilting 1 (Tuesdays and Thursdays, 9-10:45 a.m.) and Quilting 2 (Tuesdays and Thursdays, 10:45 a.m.-noon.) classes with Ms. Crystal. They school the girls in more than needles and thread, stitches and patterns.
Lesson #3: Always have a back-up plan.
Charae Whitehead, 8, with clear bows in her hair, wearing a red short set with the "#84" on the front, fights with the sewing machine. Ms. Crystal comes over to save Charae from her own frustration.
Charae moves to a stool at the main station while Ms. Crystal attempts to repair the machine. Now, she's having a little trouble with hand stitching. She struggles to maneuver the needle over the colorful flowery quilt that's almost complete. Ms. Gwen tells her she must come over for help. Charae chooses to stay dormant in the stool complaining that she's tired. Her bottom lip pokes out.
"I guess you don't want my help," Ms. Gwen says. Charae is learning that to get help; you must first help yourself.
Charae battles with her hand needle, pricking herself several times. She sits and pouts. Every now and then she complains of being tired, and belts out a "Ms. Crystal." But still she thinks sewing is fun.
"When the girls get frustrated, I sit them down," says Ms. Sarah who is a retired AARP senior representative. "And say, 'Let me show you an easy way.'" Ms. Sarah likes to guide the girls in the right direction and then stand back and let them work. When she sees them continue to get frustrated, she simply encourages them to, "keep tryin.'
"In my life, I always say if one thing fails, try something else," says Ms. Sarah who wanted to do more when she retired than sit at home and watch soap operas. Asked if she's enjoying herself, she answers, "Am I," as if it were not obvious.
She doesn't hesitate to kneel down on the floor in her orange shorts and T-shirt neatly tucked. She crawls on the floor with MacInsi Hampton, 10, whose face you cannot see. All you can see are her gray velour shorts with the word "cutie" printed across the back in white block letters.
"They're leaning how to better communicate and ask for what they want," says Ms. Trudy, quilts camp coordinator.
Lesson #4: Mind your grammar.
On Tuesday, Jashoi Kyes, 8, got a lesson in communication. Jashoi learned to "never leave a preposition at the end of a sentence." That's what happens if you yell "Where my fabric at?" in front of Ms. Gwen.
Outside of the classroom, Gwendolyn Williams is the Rev. Williams of Bethel AME located at Ninth Avenue and Third Street North, but in the classroom, Ms. Crystal, the girls and even her mom call her Ms. Gwen.
"It's like with any other generation," says Ms. Trudy, who values the importance of connecting the mother-daughter duo with the young ladies. "You think you have a clue, until you meet people who have been there, done that and wrote the book."
Ms. Sarah, Ms. Gwen and Ms. Crystal have "written a book or two themselves." They have a book for this quilting class. It's not typed up, but it's understood. Their assignments start as a simple square, escalate to a pattern of stars and top off with windmill designs.
Ms. Sarah moves around repairing machines. "Most everything goes wrong on the machines," says Ms. Sarah, who has had her share of broken sewing machines. "I couldn't afford to get them fixed; I had to work on them myself."
Ms. Gwen cuts fabric. "Some of them work faster than I can cut," Ms. Gwen says. She remains fixed at the main station, surrounded by different fabrics to point out the many ways the shades and colors can fit together. There isn't any type of format or prototype; you just have to lay the patterns next to each other.
Lesson #5: Most people only have two hands.
Ms. Crystal rotates from table to table, putting her needle in wherever it's needed. You'll hear her name called out louder, and more often in the classroom. Sometimes, she'll chime out a "that's me" when her name's called. Just to remind the little ladies that she's only one person.
This classroom is a village. The girls learn about themselves and each other through quilting. The small scraps of fabric are pieced together to create a complicated pattern in the same manner that these young people come together to learn complicated concepts. The lessons they learn come in single square patterns. They're pieced together to create the fabric of our lives.
They learn that they must pull their own weight in this village. The class works with donations and leftover pieces that must be forced to connect. Therefore, once a scheme is chosen and the materials are gathered, the ladies must keep up with the materials they need to complete their daily works.
"Keep up with your stuff, because there's no more like it," Ms. Gwen reminds her little villagers.
The girls gain a sense of accomplishment as members of this community. Their finished quilts are put on display and/or delivered to neighborhood nursing homes through the Youth Arts Corps Community Service Quilting Project. Ms. Trudy feels that this aspect contributes and promotes self-esteem. An important quality for any village.
"It's fun, you get to keep some and make some for the community," says Destiny, 8, who's on her third quilt.
They also learn how to be resourceful. Understanding that quilts have many uses.
"You get to do a lot of things with it," says Ranesha, 9, who still uses a quilt that she made last year.
"You can use it as a cover, rug or [on top of] a card table."
Lesson #6: Variety is important.
Ms. Gwen encourages the girls to find patterns and borders with contrast. Don't choose colors and patterns that are the same, at least one of the schemes must be dramatic. In other words, don't choose people or things that obviously go together. Look for characters that stand out, they complement people who are unlike themselves.
The girls choose their own patterns, iron their own fabrics and do the majority of their own sewing.
Lesson #7: Don't be afraid to stand out.
Katie Williams, 11, chose to complement an arrangement of floral patches with a non-traditional trim for her quilt. Katie chose to use an Ohio State trim because it looked good to her. The traditional patchwork whispers grandmother, but the trim screams college student.
"When I get home, I can get my own sewing machine and start quilting," says MacInsi, who says she doesn't have a sewing machine "yet."
Lesson #8: Sharing the burden lightens the load.
They work together; they fix each other's machines and tie each other's embroidery ties. They even clean up each other's messes. They are learning that in this classroom, just like in the community, sometimes you have to clean up a mess you didn't make because, like Ms. Gwen says, "they don't have names on them."
"We don't clean up our specific mess, but we clean up," Ms. Gwen says behind her glasses.
Quilts are the fabric of our lives; in this case, quilts are the fabrics that bring together the traditional and the modern or young and old or innovation and conventional.
"It makes me proud to give things to others," says Courtney, 11, who is currently working on a windmill design, her third quilt.
Lesson #9: Giving hurts sometimes.
Yet, when the time came for them to deliver their quilts, giving their time-consuming prizes over is hard.
At the South Heritage Health and Rehabilitation Center on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Street South, the same ladies who required Ms. Gwen to say, "Clap if you can hear me," to get quiet in the classroom, transformed into quiet little girls, taking tiny steps through the halls.
Asia Williams, 12, in her pink converse and long braids clings to Ms. Crystal's right arm. Andria Young, 12, hangs on to her left arm, whispering, "I don't do old people."
Their steps were slow and their voices were low as assistant director, Faith Wilson, led them through the halls. Wilson thanked the group of girls for their generosity. She explains that the circulation of some of the residents is not as good as it was when they were younger. Sometimes they get chilly and can really use the quilts, even in the summer time.
Arrae Lenox, 13, prepared to say goodbye to her "baby."
Arrae boldly displayed the quilt across her chest. It had a white background with a mint green floral arrangement on one side, and three strategic stars on the other.
She bravely released it to Wilson, in front of her teachers, her peers and five residents of South Heritage, hiding her true feelings.
"Now I have to make another," Arrae said, on the long walk back to the van.
Lesson #10: Starting over isn't so bad.
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