There is something transformative about making. Today’s assortment of making materials included some fabric, felt squares, scissors, embroidery floss, glitter glue, rickrack (that word felt like a blast from my childhood!), an assortment of buttons, and a glue gun. 

As Carol pulled items from her bag, it felt like Mary Poppins’ magical bottomless satchel. Interesting items just kept coming. (And really, who brings a glue gun to a writing project meeting?)

We’d read The Housewife’s Lament by Dawn Landes, a piece about the invisible daily labor (mostly done by women)…labor that can also become a joyful practice. Teachers also experience the phenomenon of invisible work—labor that goes mostly unnoticed and certainly under-appreciated. 

A discussion with colleagues led to an opportunity to abstract those ideas into something made from the bits and bobs available. Soon the room was humming with cutting, glueing, stitching, arranging, even some researching and, of course, the chatting that accompanies the creating. 

Pieces of felt and a stir stick became a broom sweeping debris—along with a study of the word sweep and all its connotations. Lace, a heart-shaped piece of fabric, and an overheard conversation became ” the aesthetics of framing a moment of human evolution with a new love.” A smiley face made with felt, button eyes, and lots of hot glue highlighted the value of laughter and joy in the learning process. 

We made and wrote and shared both with the group, deepening connections to each other and our shared work. The commitment and passion of the educators in the room was palpable—offering hope in these times when our profession feels under attack. 

Glue guns and buttons–making things is so much more than arts and crafts, just like so many kinds of mundane, repetitive, and taken-for-granted actions are necessary and sometimes even joy inducing, even when others don’t understand all that they entail or their significance.