Firstly, this post is nothing to do with dressmaking, quilting or crochet – so if you’re interested in any of those subjects, it’s time to move on! Instead, this is a post that I’ve written a thousand times in my head and have never got it quite right. But it’s time to post it anyway.
One way we make sense of the world is by categorising things. Putting like with like, according to their similarities and differences. There are many reasons why this is a good thing. Grouping things together means that they can be sorted, arranged, and particular attributes can be assigned to them. For example, if your fabric and sewing stash is organised according to the types of fabrics, or by colour, and your notions are organised with the interfacings together, zips together, threads together, buttons together etc etc, you can always find what you need. We tend to sort things into groups depending on our prior experiences with them and where they fit in. There are millions of examples in the world of how we categorise and classify – think of libraries, department stores, any shops, your own pantry.
Classification and categorisation works particularly well for objects and even for ideas – think biology, geology, literature. But it isn’t always a good thing when applied to people. Because then assumptions are made about particular groups – and we all know that when we assume, we make an “ass out of u and me”. Which leads to prejudice, discrimination, and worse. And in more benign forms we rob ourselves of the opportunity to see the individual circumstances, strengths and characteristics of others.
I’m 42 years old. When I was in my teens in the eighties, one of the worst things that could happen to you was to have a child out of wedlock or in your teens or early twenties. The people I mixed with all wanted to go to university and “make something of their life” and having a child young was a definite no-no. And none of us did. Most of us went to college or university. We worked in professional careers, travelled, and I didn’t personally know anyone who had their children in their teens or even in their early twenties. Actually, most of my friends didn’t have children until in their mid to late thirties, or early forties (as often through circumstance as through choice, and some who wanted children have missed the boat completely).
You’re probably making all sorts of assumptions about me and my friends as you read this. Well, I made plenty of assumptions about women who did have children very young (which I considered to be under about 22 years old but particularly in their teens). And they weren’t all that flattering or kind.
In the past five years or so since I have been blogging and crafting I have met and got to know many women who were young mothers and who have completely blown my early-motherhood assumptions out the window. And I want to say SORRY. Unreservedly. I am so sorry. For thinking that I knew what “sort of person” you were when I really had absolutely no idea. For being rude, unkind, unsupportive and prejudiced. I am sorry.
For people are individuals. There are characteristics that groups of people have in common, but there are SO many differences between the members of each group as well. Thank you to all these women that have reminded me so clearly of the importance of looking at the person in their own right before I make judgements about who they are and where they fit. Thank you for opening my eyes. You do an amazing job and I am so thankful that I have met you.
