Craft teaching advice

I wrote a post about what in-person craft classes offer over self-guided online materials and books; now I have my thoughts about craft teaching on a more nuts-and-bolts level.

  • Think it all through – Before ever teaching your first class, pay close attention to what you do when you craft. Pull out all the little steps that you’ve forgotten about because they’re so automatic.
  • Get some perspective – What’s vital to doing the craft successfully? What’s just a matter of taste? What is in-between: not vital, but desirable to take your work to the next level? The students don’t necessarily have any way to distinguish those levels of importance, so do so for them.
  • Be systematic, but flexible – Perspective is part of this, since you have to choose a way to teach things when there may be many ways to do them, but I am thinking of class organization. Write a lesson plan and cover things in a sensible order, but respond to your students’ needs and wants. I usually have the first session of my crochet class fully planned out, but about a class and a half worth of material prepared for the second session so I can adapt it to the students’ desired use for crochet.
  • Mind your notes – Even in classes I’ve taught numerous times I refer to my notes regularly to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself.
  • Have samples – Finished and in-progress examples that can be touched and manipulated are one benefit of an in-person class.
  • Remind them we’re not used to this sort of activity – In the US nowadays we don’t tend to grow up with handcraft, and the necessary motions and manipulations are very different from, say, typing. Remind them to go easy on themselves and allow time to get comfortable with it.
  • Be hands-on – If you only give visual and verbal instruction, even if it includes feedback it’s missing a key element of in-person instruction. Try not to be grabby, but do move things into place for students who are not seeing it. I had an embroidery student once who was such a kinesthetic learner that placing the needle for her and having her complete the motion was the only way she could click with certain stitches.
  • Keep it moving, but relaxed – The students are there to be directed, not to tell you when to move on. Definitely ask along the way whether they are comfortable with what you’ve covered, but don’t expect them to volunteer how they are getting along. Some will, of course, but not many. Push them a bit, but be sure it stays enjoyable. Almost everyone will be in a craft class because they want to learn or expand a hobby, and any few who have other purposes will push themselves as hard as necessary.
  • Allow plenty of practice time – But don’t expect everyone to have it down pat before moving on. This is one significant example of the previous point. With any activity of substance there is a need for practice beyond what’s allowed in the limited time of a class.
  • Let them struggle a bit – Sometimes the only way to learn is to just muck about with it. Try not to let a student do a stitch incorrectly several times, or do something to the sewing machine that is potentially damaging, but don’t leap in preemptively.
  • Watch but don’t stare – This takes practice. You want to see whether they are struggling, and almost more so whether they don’t think they’re struggling but are making some error, but without looming over them and making them uncomfortable.
  • Silence is not golden – If the room is too quiet, play some soft classical music. By soft, I mean almost subliminal; don’t have it loud enough to need to talk over it, just make sure there is some background noise. This serves two purposes: to help keep students from tensing up while they practice, and to ease the act of asking questions by eliminating the need to break silence by doing so.

What’s your best advice?

Blanket stitch is like the rhumba

silhouettes-68159_150 My post last summer about how to teach embroidery was just the beginning of my contemplation – for me, writing is an essential part of the thinking process in addition to its expression. I was scheduled to teach embroidery tonight, so it’s been front of my mind again.

Unlike crochet, there is no clear order in which to teach the fundamentals of embroidery (arguably there are at least two orders for crochet – sc-centric vs. dc-centric – but embroidery doesn’t even have an argument).

That makes it a bit like ballroom dance. I took ballroom dance lessons for a few years in my mid-20s, and I was always interested to see what order dances were taught in, and what dance would be chosen for an isolated lesson to a wider audience. There are straightforward dances, dances that allow you to do a lot with a little bit of knowledge, dances that look impressive, dances that can be done in a wider variety of settings… but nothing that satisfies all desirable criteria at once. Furthermore, of the more interesting and applicable dances, a straightforward basic step often goes with trickiness as soon as you want to learn a turn. How to choose, even after narrowing to a certain category of dance? I have the same problem with ordering stitches in teaching.

Here’s my incomplete and stretched analogy.

  • Running stitch and backstitch are like proper dance posture and partner hold: clearly necessary and willingly learned, but not what anyone is actually there for.
  • Blanket stitch is like the rhumba: desirable and useful (such as when The Drifters come on at a wedding reception), with a reasonably straightforward basic step, but unexpected complications related to turns (I couldn’t resist, though with blanket it’s really starting and stopping more than turning).
  • Chain stitch is like salsa: fun, appealing, widely applicable, with a complicated basic step that can trip you up even after you’ve done it a while, but fairly easy to learn the other moves once you’ve mastered the basic.
  • French knot is like the waltz: seems like it ought to be straightforward, but is actually a bit subtle and can be hard to do smoothly and consistently.
  • Cross-stitch is like merengue: there’s almost nothing to it – it’s all in what you do with it.
  • Feather stitch is like the foxtrot: A little weird at first, then fairly easy as long as you don’t overthink it.
  • Achieving even stitch size and consistent tension are like leading with finesse and following responsively: Teachable to a certain extent, but impossible to really learn without extensive practice, preferably in a variety of stitches or dances.

Of course with these I’m thinking of just the fundamental parts: the basic move, turns, breaks; or alternatively, starting, stopping, and turning the basic stitch. You could think of all the fancy moves that you can learn in any dance as akin to fancy variations on stitches – woven, knotted, et cetera.

Any dancer-embroiderers out there have more or alternative matchups?

The value of craft classes

As a craft teacher, with the abundance of instructional material available online, I ask myself why someone would still want to take an in-person non-free craft class (such as the crochet class I’m giving tonight). What do I offer, and what should I focus on offering?

Certainly “live” instruction is available on YouTube, there are lots of free patterns to practice with, and most popular crafts even have sequenced curricula available for free online (such as my Learn Crochet series). You can use those materials any time, anywhere, and focus on what you care most about. You can play the videos over and over again without worrying about being annoying or looking foolish. You can scroll back and check over something you can’t quite remember.

However, there is value left in craft classes. Here are the three main advantages I think they offer.

1. Dedicated time to prioritize learning. This is all on the student, of course, nothing to do with the way the class is put together, but sometimes utter freedom to schedule yourself leads to not scheduling at all. Setting aside time and paying for a class are both ways to give learning the priority it needs to happen.

2. Samples and models that can be handled and manipulated. There’s nothing like picking up, turning, peering at, and otherwise interacting with an example of what you are trying to create. In crochet and knitting in particular, one of the skills you have to acquire is reading your stitches. At first it’s all an incomprehensible tangle of strands of yarn, and it’s only with experience that you can make sense of what you’re looking at.

3. Immediate live feedback. This is the biggest benefit, and applies no matter how good you are at self-guided learning. If things aren’t working out, or they seem to be but your piece doesn’t match the example, in a class you have someone knowledgeable to check it over and determine what you are doing differently.

The class still needs a good syllabus and solid instruction, but I try to give a lot of time to guided practice. As a former mathematics teacher I’m used to only explaining and demonstrating in class, but I had office hours then for direct feedback. Now I have to fold it into the class itself. I also produce a lot of samples ahead of time, although I’m playing a guessing game with those – it’s hard to tell which ones will be most useful.

What are your thoughts about in person versus online learning, especially for physical skills?