Flint Knits

thanks for this — both for ashley’s thoughtful piece, and for your articulation of what you hope will happen in this space. looking forward to lots more on the politics of craft, and on the overlaps and intersections of scholarly work and knitterly experience.

Hot damn, what a way to post some awesomeness right off the bat after a bit of a hiatus. I’m applauding and cheering right now.

Amen. Thank you both. Perhaps this post will help lots of people have a “been to the mountain top” moment when it comes to their crafting & art this long weekend (in the US).

Pam, I’m excited that you’re going to use your blog to explore questions like this one. So many times I look at the images on people’s blogs and wonder if they are secret millionaires in order to buy these fabrics and yarns while appearing to be blogging from somewhere other than a homeless shelter or street corner. Ashley, I’ve missed your words from Dogged Knits and I’m really happy to read some in a new vein here.

What a fab post! I just love the way Ashley writes - about anything - but this was especially well-done.

I didn’t care for Heather Ross’ response to the criticism. It didn’t seem to reflect any real acknowledgement that this is a problem or any willingness to give more thought to the matter.

But I have to say that, if I were an artist, I would be a little timid about drawing people of races other than my own, out of concern that I would do something that came across more as caricature. I mean, changing the skin tone is one thing, but then there’s the issue of facial features, and hair, etc. I guess part of what I’m trying to say is that a white designer could still make racist mistakes in creating images of non-white people, and if I were the designer, that’s something I would be concerned about myself. Because white privilege doesn’t only create blind spots, it also shades and distorts how I see reality.

This was a great piece about something that I hadn’t even thought of before a few days ago. Very well done. A blind spot for me, to be sure. Like others, I wasn’t thrilled with heather’s response and I really would love to see her make more of effort to expand and include different children in her designs.

Pam, thanks so much for this series! The first post was awesome, and I can’t wait for the rest. Ashley, I think your articulation of privilege was spot on; it’s something I’ve often struggled to discuss with my students (most of whom, at least at my last two teaching jobs, ranked pretty darn high on the ol’ privilege scale and thus often felt rather accused when we discussed privilege): how do we acknowledge that what we’ve said/done is, in fact, racist/sexist/homophobic/etc., and I think concentrating on the action, rather than the person, is a fantastic way to discuss it. Thanks for the link, too! I’m going to use that in future classes for sure.

The marketing of products for children, and then marking them racially, seems really complicated to me. I recall the black Barbies when I was a kid, who were just white barbies painted brown, and thus equally, I’d assume, as damaging to little girls’ self-images whether they were white or black (or Asian, though I don’t remember what any Asian Barbies looked like in the 80s). I feel, in some ways, that Ms. Ross’s solution could be simple; but in turn, I don’t necessarily want any illusions of “separate but equal” fabrics. I know that’s not in any way what you called for, but I fear that’s where the solution might lie for a marketer of fabrics: just dye the white girls brown and no one will know! Ugh. If only Ms. Ross could get beyond her experience enough to show little girls and boys of diverse backgrounds enjoying the same things (and even enjoying toys and experiences outside her privileged life), then I think we’d get somewhere.

BRA-fucking-VA to both of you.

@earthchick: yeah, there is awkwardness when depicting/talking about other people’s race and their experience with race (or class, or gender, or whathaveyou), but there should be. Because I think the awkwardness is a sign that you feel something is wrong or out of whack, and yeah, white political and economic privilege is both of those things. But it’s not like there aren’t a whole lot of Black, Asian, Latina, etc., crafters that HR (or anyone!) could ask for input about depictions of skin colors other than white. (Although that runs the risk of turning into “My black friend said this wasn’t racist so it’s ok!” which is a whole ‘nother kettle of terrible, terrible fish.) Or hell, she could ask some other crafters for whom the representations of different childhoods would be more “authentic” to do a series or a print for her.

Pam, if this is going to be a new blog theme, I’d love to see what other ladies and guys have to say about the whole domestic crafting and feminism thing. (or has that been done to death? I’ve been away from the internet for a while.)

I think Heather Ross’s response to comments such as this was tragic.

I can almost see how it happened that this fabric was made with all the little kids looking the same. If I set out to make a fabric that depicted my childhood playtime, it would be two white kids with blond hair, dorky glasses, Wrangler jeans, and Mork from Ork suspenders playing on the floor with Star Wars figures- because that’s what my brother and I did EVERY DAY and that’s what we looked like.

What breaks my heart is Heather Ross’s response when people brought up the fact that she could be better about including children who do not look just like she looked in her product. It’s a really good point to make. She is, as you stated, Ashley, leaving out a whole lot of little kids who loved playing with toy ponies. She missed out on such a great opportunity to educate and inspire people with her response. Imagine if she’d written “It didn’t even cross my mind that I was doing this and it was wrong that it didn’t. Now that I realize this, I will do better.” That’s it. Simple as that. People who were upset by the fact that minorities, or even dark-haired white children, were left out would have had new respect for her and a little glimmer of hope for the future, when maybe stuff like this doesn’t need to be continually pointed out. Someone who didn’t notice the problem at first because they, like me, grew up surrounded by a bunch of white people, would have realized that yeah, there is a problem with this.

Instead, we get “I’m sorry you were offended” which, to me, is beyond sad.

Thanks for talking about this, Ashley, and thanks, Pam, for the platform.

Beautifully written. Thank you for this.

I am also impressed that Heather responded. Everyone is different and everyone has their own preferences. Please by all means purchase fabrics that represent people/places/objects that you want to look at and enjoy. Or, that you want your children to see and appreciate. I think Heather is getting kind of harsh treatment here. She is an artist and a designer. She is clearly not inspired to create what you are looking for. But, why should we expect her to draw what each and every one of YOU want? It’s fabric, there’s tons out there to choose from. Buy what makes you happy. Remember what Obama just said, “make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds…”

Articulate? This sounds like an angry tirade punctuated by F-bombs rather than an intelligent discussion of politics and race in crafting. At least Heather Ross was able to respond in a civil, mature manner.

Amen. As one of those crafters who happens to be a color that is not white (brown and yellow?), I do appreciate that others recognize that there is a problem here; and, I appreciate that you are willing to speak up about it.

I thought this piece was very well thought out and extremely well written. And honestly, if one want to include the occasional F-bomb for emphasis, I think that’s okay, too.

I don’t follow fabric, so I didn’t know anything about this story. So thank you, Pam, for sharing it, and thank you, Ashley, for writing such a reasoned and articulate analysis.

That said: What now? Most of us agree that this isn’t nice, but how do we move forward past the condemnation? What does anyone really want to see here? Do we want to see her making fabric with little nonwhite girls NOW? Could we ever see that as anything more than placating the angry internet–would anyone really be satisfied if the pattern shown gets released next month with a nonwhite child playing with those ponies? Even if she apologized and wrote something more along the lines of what Ashley and most of us feel here, I wouldn’t really believe it of her.

I write an entire blog on this issue, or at least the backstory to this issue. I had someone say I must be racist, the other day, only because I try to talk about privilege. Despite all my efforts to a) keep my tongue in my cheek b) explain what I’m doing. This is a very hard part of human society and every effort to make it better is a good thing.

I really, really appreciate seeing this type of discussion here — I’ve seen it in my other corners of the internet a lot over the last five years (literary/scifi and media fandom), but not in the crafty places so much, where the tone tends to be a little more superficial and 100% positive. Partly that comes from our working mainly with objects instead of representations of people, but partly, I think, because it’s new territory that a lot of people are timid about, so I’m very happy to see some taking the plunge.

And @earthchick, it’s true that including people and ethnicities you don’t know much about in your artistic work can be as mistake-prone as leaving them out. However, I believe it’s *always* better to try, make mistakes, acknowledge those mistakes, and do better in the future than to avoid the subject altogether and stick your fingers in your ears. I don’t blame Heather Ross personally for not thinking at first to include children outside her experience in her art, but I *do* blame her for refusing to learn from the words of others and to grow as a person and an artist.

Hmmm. Murky, murky waters here. On one hand, why the hell should Heather Ross illustrate anything other than what she wants to? It’s her choice. On the other hand, yes, we live in a world where to be white is to be privileged. But it’s unfair to hang all of that on one designer, who really may be drawing from her own memories that just happen to involve her own (white) family.

I do hope that when you stumble upon an artist that incorporates ONLY images of their experience, background and with a narrow/singular racial group represented your indignation is just as strong. Somehow I doubt it since they already exist and you don’t mention those.

To be truthful, I don’t think your logic connects, but to each his own. Perhaps one has to grow up with a barn full of horses for it to grasp the flow of your logic.

She’s doing what inspires her, enjoys her craft and doesn’t think she would be able to change because she hated it and was miserable when she was drawing things that didn’t come from within her.

Get off your butt - and high horse, and create your own line that does EXACTLY what you telling Heather she should do. Based on your logic, you should have NO problem coming up with inspiration for your new art endeavor. Since you are of the opinion artistry is so easily guided by logic and effortless. You’ve identify what should be done, it’s juat a matter of doing it,right?

Please keep us posted on the success of your new artistic line. We in turn will harshly criticize how politically incorrect you are for not equally representing all possible flavors in your art.

Part of this issue is a customer service concern. Her customers, the people who enjoy and buy her fabric, have asked that she include characters on her fabric that reflect their families so that they can enjoy them even more.

I don’t think it’s unusual for customers to make requests of designers they wish to purchase things from. If Ms. Ross decides not to do it, it’s entirely within her right. But it doesn’t mean people who admire her work won’t be sorely disappointed by that decision.

It potentially makes it difficult to spend further dollars with a designer who is uninterested in creating something her customers want. And it’s something that hits really close to home for a lot of people. Who doesn’t want to see their daughter or son reflected and included in this adorable fabric?

I find the thought process of these postings interesting considering this all falls on the weekend of MLK Day.

Dr. King spoke of an America where these types of disagreements could occur in a civil tone and an open forum. He also spoke of a place with opportunity for everyone to make their way in society. If Heather Ross is not creating fabric that represent the days of your youth, design fabric that does and fill the void you see in your market. She has her market, and obviously you would have your market.

Heather Ross is an artist. Trying to tell an artist what she should/should not create is censorship plain and simple. If you’re after diversity in the fabric world, go after the manufacturers, the people who decide what gets printed and sold. They choose which artists to represent and if something is lacking in the diversity of the market it’s because the manufacturers aren’t printing the work of a diverse group of artists.

Not every piece of artwork is going to speak to every person, and it shouldn’t. If a particular work doesn’t speak to you or doesn’t speak to you the way you want it to, you need to find a different piece! It’s noble to want to see equality in the way people are represented in crafting materials, but really, I can’t think of a more “spoiled little white girl” type action than to stamp one’s feet and declare that a particular artist is a horrible person because they’re not drawing the world the way you want it to be! The way to affect the change you’re seeking is to encourage the fabric manufacturers to seek out more diverse artists and to encourage artists with different world views to produce fabric art! By trying to censor the current artists, all you’re doing is alienating all those who may currently aspire to design fabric. What artist wants to be told how to create?

When Paul McCartney was asked about the people who say “The White Album” should have been done differently he responded, “some say it should have been two albums, some say we should have taken out some songs and made one album. I say we made it, it sold, it’s the bloody White Album, shut up already.”

Heather made the fabric, folks are going to buy it or not. Get off your high horses, get rid of your white guilt, and get back to your crafting!

It’s interesting to watch this conversation develop because it seems like there’s a gradual admission going on that diverse representation is genuinely more complicated than the original post implies. What Ashley calls for:

using more than one color on your palette when it comes to creating skin tones, and by making infinitesimal changes to faces and hairstyles on a few (not even all! really! just some!) of the little girls that you draw, and possibly even by changing some of them to little boys

is, essentially, the strategy of painting the white Barbie brown and selling it as African-American. Which we are gradually acknowledging is not a very compelling way of achieving diversity. Is it better than nothing? Maybe, maybe not. However, it sounds a lot more demanding of Heather Ross if what we’re actually asking for is:

- Please expand your skin tone palette and change a few facial features and child genders;
- Please then consult an unnamed quantity of crafters of color (one is not enough due to the tokenist “My black friend says…” syndrome) to make sure that your new design is not unintentionally racist, revising it based on their feedback;
- Also, we feel you are being elitist and/or puerile by choosing only to draw inspiration from idealized, “relatable” things from your own childhood. It would more accurately reflect the complexities of our modern world if you were to create fabrics that interrogated your middle-class white assumptions rather than treating them with nostalgia.

Personally, I agree that it’s a big problem that there is not more diverse representation in the crafting world. However, I question whether a small-scale boycott of an individual print designer is a very effective way to combat this issue. At least, not a boycott alone. Maybe with the money they would have been spending on Heather Ross designs, folks should commission some print designers of color (who, perhaps, share the cutesy/indie vibe) to create nostalgic childhood prints of their own. I’m sure Spoonflower could help market the project under some kind of shared branding, if desired. Something like that would create some positive visibility rather than just internet anger, and an alternative source of fabric not dependent on Heather Ross becoming an anti-racism activist.

For all that, I think having this conversation is definitely useful. Thanks for the thought-provoking post and comments, everyone.

“Heather Ross is an artist. Trying to tell an artist what she should/should not create is censorship plain and simple.”

Well, not really. It’s more like loyal customers asking for something specific that doesn’t exist because they enjoy the designer so well, they’d love to see more from her. It’s how commerce works.

She doesn’t have to do it, but when you’re in the business of selling things to people, I don’t think it’s unusual for them to offer feedback and ask for stuff they’d like to see.

I don’t see anyone asking her to quit drawing little white girls or suggesting she be hauled off to the gulag. Just pop a little diversity in there so little African American girls who like ponies can go “Yay! That looks like me!!” Not such a bad thing, really.

Julie, I did not interpret Obama’s words to mean that you shouldn’t speak up if you think you might hurt someone’s feelings. I don’t think Obama meant that at all. I am always impressed by our president and the way he speaks. I think he is intelligent, calm, diplomatic and civil. I do not think using the F bomb and terms like “barf inducing” is a helpful way to get one’s point across. Clearly there are a lot of crafters who have taken up their swords and are happy to fight this battle with Ashley. I do not believe it is Heather Ross’ burden to represent all races in her fabric. And, I think it’s unfair to suggest it is. She is an artist who is drawing and creating from memory. I would love all artists to be inspired to draw and create from their own unique memories. In fact, I appreciate that Heather is allowing African American, Asian and all other artists to draw and pull from their own childhood memories. I would far rather purchase fabric that was drawn and created with love than something forcibly done to appease the white guilt felt by crafters who lash out at someone trying to make a living in their own indie fashion.

“I do not believe it is Heather Ross’ burden to represent all races in her fabric.”

Because this REALLY needs to be said: representing people of color in your work? Is not a fucking BURDEN. Unless you are Rudyard Kipling, writing at the height of an empire that enslaved giant swaths of the world, and writing wthin the context of a elief that it’s really very much harder to be a white dude than it is to be anything else. This is exactly symptomatic of the problem that I’m trying to talk about here.

Many thanks to Pam and Ashley for starting a discussion that is all too easy not to have. I first read the post last night and have been thinking about it ever since. At first pass, I didn’t like it, largely because it left me feeling uncomfortable. I now know that my initial response was that by disliking (which leads to dismissing) the post, I didn’t have to think about these issues any further. Because here’s the thing - this stuff is hard. It requires turning the spotlight inward and doing some serious self-evaluation. I hope others can learn from my mistake and maybe look at why they’re having the reactions they’re having. I know some people don’t like cursing or think that this post is too harsh on Heather Ross, but to my mind, that shouldn’t negate everything Ashley wrote. This conversation is about race, privilege, and loads of other things — Heather Ross is just one example and, in my mind, a starting point to have a bigger conversation.

As I said, these are hard conversations. Thanks again to Ashley and Pam for starting us off.

P.S. Maritza - I didn’t know what Breyer horses were either!

I think her fabrics would be a lot cooler if they were more representative of all the beautiful people in the world. Too bad she doesn’t. Begs the question though why her fabrics are so wildly popular. They are super cute, no doubt. But, I think their representation of an idealized white world of privilege doesn’t hurt her bottom line, unfortunately, because most people don’t recognize that a white washed version of childhood makes them feel so darn nostalgic for the “good ol’ days”.

I am glad I do not live near Ashley so that she can decide what part of the work I do to support my family is a burden to me and what part is a joy and comes from my heart. I love what I do and I love deciding what I get to do. I buy all of my fabric at JoAnn’s with coupons and have never had the opportunity to be able to afford Heather Ross fabric. More power to her though! If creating doesn’t make us happy, then why do it?

Ladies, thank you.

I’ve read through and I keep going back to Heather Ross’s comment. Well, Heather, your comment is not okay with me. Here’s how I read it: drawing white people makes me money while drawing people of color did not. This saddens me. A lot. Because I like her fabric and have a bunch in my stash. (And my daughter REALLY loves the tadpole fabric).

Like others have said, I’m not attacking her but rather her response. I wish she would have taken a moment to reflect on what people were saying to her. It is hard to hear Heather. It IS fucking uncomfortable to talk about racism but own up. I don’t expect you to go write a dissertation on Orientalism, but I do hope for a bit of cultural relativity on your part, especially as a designer putting out goods for consumption by a diverse audience.

Please visit this African American fabric designer. http://www.africanamericanfabrics.blogspot.com/ She writes that she “credits her childhood and elders as a source of inspiration.” Julie, I did post under the name “Fed Up” as well, but I do not know who “I’m just saying is,” so, yes, clearly more than one person can post comments to the same blog from the same public computer. Who knew?

To quote Ms. Ross, “Maybe art school would have matured my perspective here, I guess I’m still clinging to my six year old self’s opinions, but I’ve never been able to see the point of making people feel anything but happy.” Well lady, you’re not keep the people with the dollars in their hands happy, so maybe its time to listen and give the people what they want!

I’m a student in an art school right now studying fibers and textiles, and it kills me that some of you people think that this is a harsh attack! I’ve had professors make critiques, because that’s what’s happening here (not an “attack”), so harsh compared to this that its laughable. Specifically because there is business involved in this. I’m a student, I’m not responsible to a base of customers to deliver on a product like the lady in question. I’m not saying that what she’s doing isn’t fine art, but this IS being produced on a mass scale to a broad base of people, and as such should appeal accordingly. This is not only a matter of equality and ethics, it’s just good business! I’m dumbfounded at her blase attitude about this.

I saw someone make a comment along the lines that they thought this conversation would be discouraging to those who are hoping to go into fabric design. That’s not so in my case. I want to go into textile design, I don’t have any specific career plans but I would hope that anything I would be involved in would appeal to all people. I also want to say that there’s a huge difference between “censorship” and constructive criticism. In the field that Ms. Ross is in, that just comes as part of the job. I would hope that people wanting things to be more equal in representation would be viewed as being something constructive.

I hate to end this on a super catty note but I just can’t help myself. Maybe if Ms. Ross HAD gone to art school she would know the difference between “palate” and “palette”.

Ok, that was full of tyops and mistakes, but I have too much on my plate today!

I couldn’t resist commenting here for two reasons. One, I’m feeling the need to clarify a few facts, and two, how exciting to see the F word in print so freely. Its like the HBO of craft over here. How can I not join in?

Fact One: Assuming that because I have blonde hair and liked horses as a little girl means that I was either rich or privileged makes a few of you as guilty as anyone of stereotyping. Let me make this perfectly clear. I was POOR. DIRT POOR. as in, free lunch, food stamps, headlice until I was fourteen, occasionally skinning, cooking and eating what my mother ran over with the car POOR. Never enough gas in the car or food in the house POOR. Left home at seventeen with everything I owned in a FUCKING Hefty bag POOR. I was usually hungry, always filthy, and, surprisingly, typically happy. I wouldn’t change much. I have, admittedly, always believed that being born with brains and bit of talent and OK maybe even blonde hair, in the United States of America, at this particular time in history still made my circumstances unbelievably lucky.

I can understand how somebody might think that since horses are very expensive to keep in cities and towns that only rich girls can ride, but as many girls like me who grew up in the country and on farms will tell you, its still about the cheapest form of entertainment in some parts of this country.

Moving on. Lets talk about making money. I have a history of being very honest about how much I earn as a fabric designer because I think its one of those things that a lot of people get into thinking that it will be lucrative, and then are disappointed. Licensing in general is a pretty tough way to make a living. The most I have ever earned in a single year from designing fabric (and this won’t be news to anyone who has ever taken a class with me) is about $9000. Most of the fabric that sells for big bucks online is in the re-sale markets, and doesn’t affect me at all. I do it mostly because I love it.

I also agree with everyone here who says that taking criticism is a part of being an artist. I have no intention of standing in the way of this very healthy, quite inspired dialogue. I think that everyone has a right to stand up for what they believe in and say whatever they need to say. I just felt very compelled to make those two facts known. And also I really wanted to type the word FUCK.

Heather Ross

I feel sort of conflicted about this whole discussion, because I feel like I can’t really defend Heather Ross without others accusing me of not being able to look beyond my own white girl privilege. I know that being white probably has made me blind to a lot of the discrimination that minorities feel, and yet I’d like to think that I’m capable of recognizing when that white default mentality has gone too far. But, I’m just not feeling all that worked up about this particular instance.

I’m seeing two basic arguments here: either Heather’s work is art, and that therefore she should base it entirely on her own inspiration, which is obviously her *own* childhood; or that she is producing a commercial product and therefore she should be tailoring her works to the demands of the consumers. From Heather’s response, it’s clear that she views her work as art. She stated that she was unhappy creating to others’ specifications, and that lo! when she started drawing what she really wanted, she was more financially successful. Diana above said she read Heather’s statement as “drawing white people makes me money while drawing people of color did not.” This seems to me to be a highly accusatory way of reading what she said. I interpreted it as when it wasn’t her own inspiration, not coming from her own brain but from a directive saying “draw this”, she wasn’t as successful. Isn’t this just like the advice you always hear about how you’ll be more successful if you’re doing what you love?

There are a lot A LOT of artists in the world. Some produce only what they are inspired to produce and hope for a market for that, and some produce what they think or know the market demands. Heather clearly views herself as the former and she is clearly very successful (although, as she noted, “success” in this industry is apparently still not very lucrative, which is kind of sad and bizarre). So who are we to get all up in arms about it? If it’s not what you want, don’t buy it, but don’t get all persnickety about it, and throwing about weighty accusations of racism seems all out of proportion with what it is. FABRIC. Fabric, people!

Yes, I do think it is “Sesame Street-ish” of Ashley to think that a little white girl might decide to play with the black girl down the street, because, hey, there’s a black girl on this scrap of fabric on my quilt, so she must be okay. I do understand the larger point of there being a lack of children of color being represented in our media and society in general. And if you want to see more diversity in quilting fabrics, write to the manufacturers and ask them to find designers whose works depicts what you want to see. But Heather is only one designer and she has been asked directly to change her work to suit a particular audience, and she has said essentially, no, thank you. So leave her alone.

There is nothing wrong with having a discussion about race in the crafting community, but all this talk of boycotting and how Insensitive Heather is being is just ridiculous! She is under no obligation to change her work to suit the mothers of every little girl out there.

I think every artist (and I consider Heather Ross an artist!) is entitled to draw and create what they want, period. They don’t need to defend their views or upbringing to anyone. I would prefer to have these wonderful fabrics filtered through the artist’s personal experience than to have fabrics that are forced to fit the mold of people’s expectations.

Why isn’t there a discussion about how creepy and crazy the reverse situation is? I was at TNNA last weekend and saw the myriad of geisha-inspired needlepoint canvases that were clearly not created by Japanese artists. And fabric that has Chinese calligraphy that was definitely not drawn by anyone who has written Chinese characters? I find these attempts to bring in “oriental” inspired craft materials offensive (and yes, some of the manufacturers still use “orient” or “oriental” in their marketing). My Japanese ancestors are rolling in their urns thinking that this is how they are represented in this country. Is this diversity?

I would rather buy Japanese art from a Japanese artist. I would rather buy African art from an African artist. I would rather buy European art from a European artist. And, dare I say it? I would rather buy Caucasian art from a Caucasian artist.

Forgive this rant - I am bedridden with the flu and delirious with fever. But I had to say my piece. I love Heather Ross and her fabrics to no end. Please keep creating what you love!

[…] birthday seems as good a day as any to talk about the conversation taking place at Flint Knits about privilege and representation. I am going to sum it up briefly, but I highly recommend reading the entirety of what is written […]

Also, I feel like I need to say this. I think the reason people have latched on to wanting Heather to create more diversity in her work is because ZOMG, they totally love her style. They really do. A lot. Love, love, love it. She has a great sensibility and is able to convey such a sense of sweetness with simple lines.

So finding more diverse fabric with another designer isn’t a very easy option unless someone starts ripping off her style, which would be bad.

But really, they want to be able to see their kids reflected in the cuteness so they can love it all that much more. The want to feel even more connected to it.

In a really weird way, it’s showing how much people really care about her fabric design.

Phoebe, I think we might be reading it a little differently. What I’m sensing is frustration and disappointment more than outright condemnation.

And while it may be nitpicking, Ashley didn’t call Heather “actively resistant to social progress”, she phrased it as “when people start thinking that someone is actively resistant to social progress”, which telegraphs to me her disappointment and trepidation about Heather’s explanation. Like she doesn’t outright believe it to be the truth, but she’s leaning in that direction.

It’s sort of a subtle bit of semantics, I guess. But that’s how I read it. Sort of a combination of a grumble and a sad sigh. Like when Homer is doing something Marge really wishes he wasn’t because she loves him, and really doesn’t want to see him disappoint her. Except that unlike Marge, Ashley seems to be willing to put her money where her mouth is. Even she doubts the willingness of people to boycott, so she’s just telling as that she’s no longer planning to buy Ms. Ross fabrics. And yet, she seems really bummed about it, because dude, she really liked that fabric.

You know, I’ve been thinking a lot in the past few hours why this post has really bothered me. Maybe it’s because it’s written by a self-professed privileged white wonder bread woman. Calling for a boycott of fabric because she wasn’t happy with the response of the artist about the subject matter.

Number one, as Edward James Olmos said in the BSG forum at the UN, “There is only ONE race - the HUMAN RACE!” (so say we all!) The more we use skin color as a criteria for diversity, the less acceptance of diversity there will be. I truly believe this. I am a 3/4 Japanese 1/4 Russian freckled Asian looking woman with big eyes. I know there is NO representation of me or the way I look in any craft, art, book, etc. in the world. I’ve known this for a long, long time.

To me, speaking as a non-white minority, true diversity includes acceptance of diversity of thought. Our children, our community will react to the way we act towards one another, not the fabric we choose to craft with. To me, civil discourse about topics we disagree about is paramount to this goal. I believe using the f-bomb doesn’t make your argument stronger; it makes it weaker. I would have loved to see a discussion about this topic in a way where people didn’t feel that they had to defend themselves by other people’s assumptions of their lives and upbringing.

To ask someone to represent diversity in all colors of the human race in their work is ridiculous, in my opinion. However, I do accept that Ashley has her ideas and opinions and she is allowed to express is in any terms she likes. What is missing in her essay is that Heather Ross has that same right as well. Did Heather Ross create an fabric that many people can’t relate to? Maybe she did. But is it part of her experience? Yes, it is! Enough said. Accept it. If I created a fabric full of freckled faced Asian girls going to Japanese school on the weekends and crying because they couldn’t watch Saturday morning cartoons, that fabric would never sell. It is a classic Asian stereotype. But I’m allowed to create it. Because it’s part of my background and upbringing and it was my reality. If I created the fabric Heather created, I’m sure I would have been hanged in effigy by the crafting community for stereotyping, mainly because it’s not my history, my story.

Please don’t force “color” diversity where it’s not needed. Instead, let’s treat each with other respect and honor our diversity of thought. Because, in the end, I believe that’s what important.

As a black woman, and a mom, this speaks to me in a LOUD AND CLEAR voice. I try so hard to show my children all the different ways we can be represented and featured in a positive way. My oldest daughter LOVES the HR mendocino line and I love making her things she likes, but I would be over the moon to have just one little brown mermaid to point out to her. This lack of representation spills over onto places like etsy, too, where many of the cute prints and pocket mirrors and quirky t-shirts don’t show little brown girls and boys. The change has to start somewhere and she sure missed the chance to be the leader. I know that I would have been first in line to buy fabric with a little more me shown on it.

Lots of great comments here and so I must admit to there being merit in the original post, though I think the vitriolic tone is way off given the subject matter.

What I think is interesting about this debate, is the intersection of the ideas of privelege, craft and art. As at least one commenter has pointed out, it’s a pretty narrow sector of society that is in the position to be buying 17 dollar a yard fabric. Crafting in many ways does seem to have taken on all sorts of trapings of privelege, and yet sewing and knitting and quilting and so on are all associated largely with women and largely with people who had to make do for themselves rather than paying someone to make for them.

I think it’s important for people to face their own priveledge, I think it’s important to ask questions and demand change where we see the need, but I’m not convinced that attacking an independant fabric designer is the best place for this to take place. Artistic freedom, appropriation, tokenism, a lack of true diversity in many area of our culture are hard to reconcile and I don’t think we’re going to do it by attacking what is essentially a symptom of a larger problem, which is that the large companies that usually make the decisions about whose designs and of what will be manufactured, still don’t think real life diversity will sell, and maybe the bigger problem is that sometimes it still doesn’t.

i’m a HUGE fan of heather ross, i have a lovely stash, of the VWs, gnomes, mermaids, doggies, and the riding gear fabric. i’m also korean-american with 2 boys. i actually never thought about the issue of diversity in hr’s fabrics until i read this article, mainly because, it wasn’t really an issue b/c i have just used the doggie print and the gnome print to make pants for my boys, AND because when i did decide to cut into the VW fabric, i was making pj’s for my sister in law, who is white. i can say with certainty, that if i had a little girl, i would absolutely love it if a fabric represented her ethnicity, in a way that didn’t stereotype it, i.e. geisha girls, asian-theme fabrics. the fact is, she would be growing up in a totally american way, she just has a different skin color, and different facial features, and occasionally eats toasted seaweed. i don’t want to speak for everyone who wants hr to have more diversity represented in her fabrics, but for me, it comes from a place of REALLY loving what she does. i want my kids to be represented in the world around them, and for them to not feel that almond eyes and yellow skin is weird or somehow “less than”. our instinct as parents is to want to protect our kids from feeling left out, from personal experience, i can say it hurts to be called names b/c your eyes are different, and it hurts to look around the room, and not see anyone who looks like you, it hurts when you always feel uglier, not because you are, but because the place you live idealizes one type of beauty. i’m an adult, i’ve come through it, and the world now is so much more diverse than it used to be, i’d like hr to step a little bit out of her comfort zone, and maybe not just draw upon her own past, but draw upon a vision of what exists in cities and towns all across america, and incrementally move this corner of the market into the 21st century.

Doubtful that the profanity is a necessity.

I am shocked by some of the people who think this article by Ashley is acceptable let alone praiseworthy. While she might be able to string together a well-written essay the core of her argument was way off the mark. Just because you have a weird guilt complex related to your “privileged” upbringing, you have no right to launch a highly personal attack against someone who has had the decency to give an honest response to the completely uncalled for criticism of her designs. This is a fine example of political correctness gone mad.

For everyone who skimmed Ashley’s essay just enough to write a half-baked reactionary response, I’d like to add a few points in an effort to re-center a discussion that has (predictably) spun out of control.

a) Throwing around the terms “politically correct” and “white guilt” as criticism is just another way of saying “Why should i have to think about race? Racism isn’t really a problem anymore, and i never owned slaves or anything!” Which is bullshit. Stop being defensive and engage with what’s actually being argued.

b) As I understand it, Ashley is making an argument about the structure of a crafting industry where the overwhelming majority of human representation is white, and that fact reinforces a racist cultural ideal where ideas of “childhood,” “innocence,” “whimsy,” “nostalgia” and so on are implicitly and explicitly coded as “white.” Heather Ross is a part of this structure, but has chosen to defend it and deny her role in the larger system of representation. All of this is absolutely fair game for critique, and Ashley has done a fine job in doing just that. This is NOT a discussion about anybody’s individual feelings — not yours, not mine, not Heather Ross’, not really even individual children. This is about a STRUCTURAL CRITIQUE OF RACIAL REPRESENTATION. Again: stop being reactionary and think outside your own skin.

c) Representation is important and real. And it is a powerful way that racism is quietly reinforced in our culture every day. Even if producers and consumers don’t consciously realize their complicity, it perpetuates a culture that is (and has always been) based on white supremacy, in thousands of tiny, seemingly trivial ways. It’s not trivial, and it’s not a matter of individual choice or preference.

d) The pissing contest over whose opinion is more “authentic” is completely useless and really annoying.

e) If the choices are a “politically correct moral high horse,” and a willfully ignorant “colorblindness,” I’ll take the high horse every time. Because critically engaging with race and privilege isn’t about “white guilt” — it’s about refusing to use racial privilege to pretend that racism doesn’t exist.

f) Are we really still having the “swear words are ignorant and juvenile” discussion? Because it’s an absolutely ridiculous one. We are all adults, and profanity can express more outrage, joy, and emphasis than “PG” language ever could. So fuck that noise.

I tried to leave this comment yesterday but it didn’t appear-must be my browser.

What I said was that I found this discussion rather confusing as I see Heather Ross as an artist and I didn’t know that artists had to defend their subject material. I also thought that her reply was very calm, rational and made me laugh. The only thing that this leads me to want to do is not purchase this book that the author of this article has coming out.

@Mari:

With all due respect, I do have to disagree with some of the statements you have made, both here and on your blog. I did, as you have implored us to do multiple times here, read your blog post. Unfortunately I don’t feel that it added much to the discussion beyond attacks to Ashley and (*extremely cute*) photos of your sweet baby. A chance to debate, given on your blog? Not so much. I would argue that the proof is in the pudding, and the various responses to this post prove without a doubt that it does indeed offer the opportunity for debate and intelligent discussion - which is an important thing, whether one is busy with one’s crewel work or not.

(As an aside, to many: the manufactured offense at the swearing is a total straw man. We’re not 12 years old in 1913. Bleep what you need to bleep in your mind and move on, for fuck’s sake. All y’all wankers can, in the wise words of Bikini Kill, suck my left tit.)

One more thing - the very idea of some ideal colorblind world is a depressing distraction. This says it better than I could:

http://www.timwise.org/2010/06/colorblind-ambition-the-rise-of-post-racial-politics-and-the-retreat-from-racial-equity/

@Shannon (and oh-so-many more):

As an artist (one who worked hard for my art school degree, at that, and in the process took many a harsher critique than that which is presented here - so the idea that this blog post would be ZOMG SO TOTALLY HARSH to artists is hilarious!), I must say - I really resent (and frankly, am gobsmacked by) the implication that artists must only be true to themselves that I have seen in the blog posts, blog comments, and even the forums of outside websites regarding this issue. Should artists draw from personal experience? Most definitely, for that is how the most powerful artistic statements are made. But, to quote the playwrite Bertolt Brecht, “art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it!” I am an ardent believer in both personal expression and personal responsibility. As artists, we must - MUST - think about how our reflections of self represent, react to, and reflect the world in which we live!

To put oneself out there as an artist, to create something and offer it up to comment, critique, and approval or disapproval, is both terrifying and exhilarating and it is the task, the responsibility, the need (and likely the joy verging on a high) of every artist. If an artist’s goal is to do no more than be true to him or herself, why not simply doodle in a journal? To make art - to be an artist - is to connect one’s personal experience and truth to the experiences and truths of the world as we see it. To claim to be “just an artist being true to myself” is belittling to art itself. In other words - and I’m sorry (but not really) if this offends the delicate sensibilities of anyone reading this: but to claim to be an artist without acknowledging the responsibility and important of art in society is a bloody ridiculous insult to real artists who actually give a fuck. The very idea that artists would not have to defend their work is absurd!

“Artists do not create in a vacuum, they are indisputably coupled to the society and times in which they work. It may well be that an artist can realize aesthetic triumphs while ignoring society, but willful unconcern regarding social matters is also a political position.” - Mark Vallen, “Why All Art is Political”

“If you’re not angry, then you’re just stupid and you don’t care.” - Ani DiFranco, “Out of Range”

Righteous1 -

Thank you for taking the time to read my post! I know I didn’t invite debate on my post and I deliberately wrote it that way. It is my perspective and I just wanted to get it out there. That’s all. I had so many issues with the structure of Ashley’s argument, but, quite frankly, I just didn’t have the time to sit down and dissect her essay. I went for my gut emotional response. Which I know doesn’t add anything intellectual to the discussion but I know gives food for thought. For any debate or discussion about race HAS to include the perspectives of minorities. Otherwise, it just becomes of the discussion among people of “privilege” about what to do with a topic that doesn’t impact their lives as it does our lives.

I know going to art school (and architecture school, as my husband did) brings you into a world where you need to defend your work constantly. It’s a skill that I don’t have when it comes to my own creative work. I see my husband give and take critique without batting an eyelash and I am in awe. But most of us didn’t have the opportunity to go to art school. So I feel that the debate has been reserved for those who were able to go art school or some other form of higher education where debating skills and defending your own work are taught. Unfortunately, the ones who usually go to these places to learn these skills? Are usually white.

Stephen -
Thank you too for reading my post! I HAVE to hope for an America where the color of my skin doesn’t matter. Can you imagine how depressing it would be to walk around the world everyday thinking, “Society thinks less of me. I am I less than? I don’t know what to do!” I live my life without thinking of my skin color at all. It’s only when I’m reminded by others (like Ashley’s article) that I’m aware of it. Do you realize that? I just live my life, which is a very wonderful and full life.

And I agree, to talk about racism, we have to talk about race. I just WISH that Ashley would have talked with some of us who are minorities in the craft world what our perspectives were before she wrote this essay. I think if she would have included our thoughts and feelings about this topic, her argument might have been the same, but would have addressed in a way that I would have felt included. Instead, I am left feeling hollow and saddened by her lack of understanding of the minority experience. And I cling to what I hope and dream for myself and my family. A place where I feel included and not excluded. Where the color of my skin is just another facet of my identity, like the clothes I wear or the music I listen to.

I feel that the true debate and discussion that I would like to be a part of might have to happen elsewhere. As you said, this discussion took too many unproductive directions and, in my opinion, left many hurt feelings. But I really appreciate your perspective and your highly intelligent comments. And your use of frak? Very much appreciated.

@righteous1 I understand art being critiqued on various techniques but is your art criticized for its subject matter? If you have a paintng in a gallery of a bowl of fruit does someone say, “fucking hell where’s the carrots?” Your next painting better have some carrots, you fucked up. I’m not saying people are the same as vegetables but its your choice as the artist to paint whatever you want.

I still think that if you want more diverse children in fabrics than support those companies that do it now and tell the companies you want it.

Hiya everyone. It’s me, Pam! Fuxup? I just wanted to pop in and clarify how I understand Ashley using the concept of “privilege.” I think we’re not all using it the same way, and it’s leading to some cross-communication.

Activists and scholars who think and talk about “privilege” don’t talk about individuals either having it or not having it. Instead, they see each of us as having power/privilege in some areas, and not in others. So we’re each privileged in some ways, but not in others.

For instance, there’s white privilege, but also class privilege, heterosexual privilege, citizenship privilege, light-skinned privilege, able-bodied privilege, male privilege, and so on and so on — there’s no end to the ways that power shapes our lives and our chances in this world. And all of these things overlap in complicated ways. So if you’re white, male, heterosexual, and able-bodied, living in a wealthy country, you’re many many many times more likely to also have class privilege than someone who isn’t all of those things.

Which means that there is no single “the minority experience” or “the white experience” — instead, different people experience this huge, multi-layered matrix of power/privilege in different ways, based on where they are located in it. And no two people are located in exactly the same place.

And even if we only look at racial systems of power and privilege, there’s a really complicated hierarchy at work — it doesn’t break down to “white” and “not white.” Even within categories like Asian American, there are major differences in the life chances for different ethnic and national groups in the U.S., based on class, immigration status, education, etc. etc. (http://www.asian-nation.org/demographics.shtml)

Heather gave a great example of this in her comment — she may have grown up experiencing racial privilege, but not class privilege. And she also illustrates how our position in the class system affects how we are racialized. So, for instance, poor whites are typically imagined (in representation and culture, as well as in public policy and other areas) as “dirty” and “less white” than middle class and affluent whites.

And so when crafters of color wrote to Heather Ross and started this conversation, asking her to think about representing some racial diversity in her work, they were certainly coming from a place where they and their children don’t have the privilege of seeing themselves represented in hip designer quilting fabrics. But, as some commenters here have pointed out, they may also be coming from a place of class privilege, as people who are able to purchase fabric at $17/yard. And as another commenter pointed out, certainly we, as consumers of luxury textiles, are all in a privileged location compared to the poor women of color who produce them in factories in the global south.

I hope this clarifies for some folks what anti-racist activists mean when they talk about “privilege.” I’m sure we can all think of similar examples, not least of all in our own lives. Comment on! xo, Pam

@Shannon:

Hey, there’s some food for thought! (Get it?) Tell you what - the day that carrots are the victims of institutionalized prejudice in every way that @Ashley mentions in her comment just above yours (and many many more ways to list) I’ll strike up carrot activism and call for their equal representation as a small-but-meaningful part of that activism as well.

Oh, except that won’t happen because carrots are fucking vegetables. Once again, another straw man argument - thanks for that.

Ashley, I’m curious do you think its worthwhile to address the people who sell and manufacture fabrics with more diversity? It just seems to me that it would be a good way to get yours…and everyone else’s voice heard that you feel there’s a major lack of it.

Pam, I’m really looking forward to your followup post. One particular line of argument I hope you’ll address is the “separate but equal” bent of some of these comments- the idea that people of color should stop asking for what they want, bust into the world of fabric manufacture, and make it themselves. Or that there’s “plenty out there to choose from” so we should just buy what we want and leave HR alone. In particular, from the comments above:

“Please by all means purchase fabrics that represent people/places/objects that you want to look at and enjoy. Or, that you want your children to see and appreciate…It’s fabric, there’s tons out there to choose from.” (which, I believe, reflects the myopic view that all people ARE represented, somewhere, if we just look hard enough. I’m still looking.)

And the rather silly: “Get off your butt - and high horse, and create your own line that does EXACTLY what you telling Heather she should do. Based on your logic, you should have NO problem coming up with inspiration for your new art endeavor. Since you are of the opinion artistry is so easily guided by logic and effortless. You’ve identify what should be done, it’s just a matter of doing it,right?” (Which is basically the argument that established systems of power should not be questioned, and it is the job of the underrepresented to work outside of those power systems to make their own way. Don’t want to sit at the back of the bus? Buy your own bus and drive it! Fed up with the schools your children attend? Make your own school! And yes, I realize we’re talking about fabric, but it’s silly to assume that the solution for crafters of color and people who would like to see more than one skin tone on the children in prints should go get art degrees, break into textile design, win contracts with major manufacturers, and create wildly popular lines just to fix this problem.)

And finally: “I would rather buy Japanese art from a Japanese artist. I would rather buy African art from an African artist. I would rather buy European art from a European artist. And, dare I say it? I would rather buy Caucasian art from a Caucasian artist.” (Which…I don’t even know what to do with this, to be honest.)

Thanks, Pam!

I love that this conversation is happening. L. O. V. E.

Thanks for continuing to stay invested in this, Phoebe. I truly appreciate your participating, and I think you’ve added a lot to the conversation. Please don’t pull your hair out!

For me, reading through the comments of folks who take issue with part of Ashley’s post, I see both (1) knee-jerk responses (”ARTISTS ARE FREE INDIVIDUALS AND THEY CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT WHY ARE YOU CENSORING ME”), and (2) legit debate and considered, dissenting points of view like yours.

And the difference between the two kinds of comments seems important to me. That is, while some (like yours) are clearly concerned about racial inequality, but think that Ashley’s focus or approach is off the mark, others seem to be supremely UNconcerned, and to view any discussion about race and representation as liberal PC blah blah blah (that point of view has come through even more clearly in my email communication with some of those commenters).

Recognizing the difference between those two types of responses seems important if we want to build a real conversation together, and not the same-old us-vs.-them bullshit that dogs most internet debates about touchy and complicated issues.

So I think a generous reading would see Stephen’s comments as addressing that first group of people, and not the second?

@Phoebe: I actually do comprehend that there are other valid ways of viewing the situation. With that said, I don’t feel compelled to engage reasonably with sock puppets and trolls, and I also don’t feel compelled to politely “agree to disagree” with people whose view of the situation is grounded in what I think is a dangerously naive view of the state of race in America, and in less-than-careful thinking about the nuances of privilege. If you can show me an example of where I’m being “ungenerous” to someone who does not fall into those categories, I’d be happy to see it.

Heather Ross is a DESIGNER. Her art is her expression. HERS. It’s wonderful for the people who identify with it. If she were African American would people be pissed because she wasn’t drawing white girls? What bullshit. Pure bullshit. Heather is a person. She doesn’t OWE people the images that they want. I totally agree with what she said. It’s a matter of respecting her art and not trying to dictate what YOU want HER to make. She draws what she knows and what is genuine to her. If you don’t want to buy her fabric, don’t more for me. Get off your high horse. Ashely needs to get over herself. It’s fabric not a soapbox.

@Phoebe, no I’m not calling you a troll at all. The person to whom I linked the Rudyard Kipling poem (burden really IS a racially loaded word! I promise!) was posting under multiple user names from the same IP in order to look like her position was more widely held than it was: definitionally, a sock puppet, and I would argue, trollish in her desire to name-call and hector rather than engage in reasonable discussion.

@Ashley I’m tardy to to the party here and have many many conflicting views on the whole matter as well as ample criticism of your overall tone and method but I have a few questions.

What made you exclusively use Heather Ross as the example to be made out of all the white designer women and companies that are also part of the problem?
As others have pointed out you could use the same arguments and made the same requests towards the body of work of Lizzy House, Melody Miller, for only portraying over-represented aspects of white history (castle peeps, ruby star rising) and you can also go further deconstruct the style and influences of people like Denyse Schmidt and Amy Butler, white women who use ethnic influences in their work (gee’s bend quilting, India) and filter it and make it palatable for the white middle class consumer (Are white people more likey to buy lifestyle branding from white people?) I am also surprised to not see much discussion on Kokka’s role in this. I presume Kokka is a Japanese company that does research on what their American and Non-American consumers want and they believe that white representation and white history sells. What are the implications of privileged white American consumers (such as yourself) using their consumer power (boycotts and such that you are referring to) to influence what a possibly non-white non-american company produces? And have you looked into your own privilege to see that your language such as the cussing and the assumption that everyone should be familiar with concepts of privilege that may not be as well know outside of academic circles and in making quick judgements you may be silencing minority opinions and opinions of the very people you are trying to champion. I doubt you are playing on a level playing field when you openly “critiqued” Heather’s work. You could have emailed Heather personally if you felt that she did not understand your definition of privilege (and the long list of academic debate on it! its a lot to chew on if you are just seeing the concept for the first time!) and let her process it in private just as you got the opportunity to during your “epiphany” instead of bringing it so quickly and thoughtlessly (this is how I view your rant even if it was not your intention) to the public sphere. I have many more questions and thoughts on the matter but this is a start.

To Elizabeth; brilliantly expressed

@ Elizabeth - I have a high school education, and I take occasional community college classes when I can afford it. No one would ever think of me as belonging to “academic circles,” and I still understood Ashley’s post just fine. In my “minority opinion” it is insulting to imply that people of color and or people without college degrees can’t read, can’t think, or can’t google a concept that they aren’t familiar with. -Marco

Interesting. I regret I don’t have time to read all the other comments. I wanted to say that I totally dig her concept that she wanted to draw things true to herself and her experience. And that she must have been feeling mighty defensive. After all, she was drawing and designing to include her experience, not to exclude anyone elses.

However - agreed. She could have made a much more thoughtful response about not having considered expanding her racial repertoire, and at least considering how she could do that and remain true to herself and her visions. I do think it’s important in art and therapeutic and makes better art if you’re working from experience that you feel and know and understand. But from there you expand, to bigger things that you can explore, not just reminisce about. And how deeply do you have to feel the twee-ness of little girls playing with horses that you can’t contemplate throwing in a little dark hair?

She’s missing a great opportunity to expand her market and expand the fabric market at all by including some multi-racial folks in the “prime” market.

I got as far as Heather Ross’s poverty excuse. Seems as if her privilege backpack is still fully loaded!

http://www.uakron.edu/centers/conflict/docs/whitepriv.pdf