Knitting, Activism, and the Work of Holding Space
- Sönna Schuttner
- 4 days ago
- 8 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
A Wool & Weather reflection on rest, resistance, and the many ways we show up

1.30.26
My dear Tangled Makers,
There is so much heaviness in the world right now. The kind that settles into our shoulders and tightens our breath if we let it. In moments like these, I feel the pull of both knitting and activism, and the tension that can arise between them. Through Wool & Wyrd, my fiber practice and business, I have always tried to create a space where beauty, care, and connection are not distractions from the work needed for change but part of how we survive long enough to put in that work.
✦ A Human Note Before We Begin ✦ This Wool & Weather entry was written by me, Sönna, from my real life as a knitter, designer, and community-builder. It is not a mass produced AI generated theft of other’s work. The thoughts, experiences, and convictions shared here are my own and reflect my fiber practice: Wool & Wyrd.
This Wool & Weather entry is not a call to action in the traditional sense. It is a reflection on why I believe there is a role for everyone to play in creating change and why I continue to tend spaces of rest and beauty even when the world feels like it is on fire.
Jump to:

✦ Knitting & Activism ✦
There has been a lot of pain, fear, and injustice unfolding in our country as immigration policies and those instructed to enforce them become increasingly more violent. Many people are exhausted. Many are grieving. Many are fighting with everything they have.
Recently, tension surfaced in the broader knitting world around a hand-knit red hat pattern created as a form of protest—a way to speak against ICE raids and to raise funds in support of immigrants and those defending them. The pattern is called Melt The ICE hat and was created by Paul S Neary for the Needle & Skein Yarn Shop in Minisota, USA. The New York Times and The Guardian took notice as knitters around the world cast on red yarn. The response from outside the fiber community was swift and harsh. Knitters were called performative, selfish, shortsighted. Accused of “not doing enough.”
What struck me most was not the disagreement itself, but the certainty with which judgment was delivered without any real knowledge of who these knitters are, what they do, or how long they have been showing up for justice in ways unseen.
And here is where I want to be very clear: we cannot know what others are doing to bring about change.
Some people are on the front lines. Some are organizing. Some are donating. Some are writing. Some are caring for children, elders, patients, neighbors. Some are knitting a hat—quietly, bravely, visibly—in a place where that visibility carries real risk.
All of it matters.

✦ Rest as Resistance✦
I don’t speak through this platform about politics very often, not because I don’t care, but because I feel strongly that part of the role Wool & Wyrd is meant to play in this struggle is to create a space for rest and connection. We are not meant to live perpetually flooded by injustice without pause. Constant exposure without rest does not make us stronger—it burns us out, hollows us, and fractures our ability to respond with clarity and compassion.
I take the role of creating and holding that space very seriously. It is integral to my practice, as a mother, nurse, witch and fiber artist. We all need such space. Space to celebrate. Space to heal. Space to remember what we are capable of making together.
This does not mean escaping reality and never returning. Yes, someone could misuse rest as avoidance. That is possible. And yet, even through their participation in a joyful community where warriors can rest, they are maintaining the space needed for rejuvenation and continued work on the part of those who are doing the work.
Participation in the resistance cannot be forced; it must be inspired. It is the same for rest. We can inspire rest by offering a place where fighters can lay their armor down for a moment, where exhausted hearts can refill their wells, where beauty reminds us why the work matters at all.

✦On Performance, Courage, and Being Seen✦

There has been criticism that knitting a protest hat—or wearing one—is “merely” performative. I want to gently but firmly push back on that idea. Knitting or wearing a hat in protest is performative in the vital sense of the word.
Performance has always been part of resistance. It carries emotion. It makes values visible. It inspires others to join us. It signals to those feeling helpless: you are not alone.
In rural communities like mine, wearing a visible symbol of dissent can take real courage. It is far easier to declare our beliefs when surrounded by people who agree with us than it is to be the only red thread in a sea of blue (or, ironically, the less literal but more accurate way to say that would be the only blue dot in a see of red). For some knitters, that hat is not a trend—it is a quiet act of bravery.
And even if someone is new to the work? Even if casting on red yarn this is their first step?
Welcome.
This work is too vital to waste energy worrying about who will be sticking around once they bind off and we do not grow movements by gatekeeping the door.

✦ Money, Mutual Aid, and the Cost of Creativity ✦
There has also been criticism that people should donate directly to mutual aid instead of buying yarn or patterns connected to fundraising efforts.
For some, that may be a viable option. For many others, it is not.
Offering a way to participate by dyeing yarn, designing a pattern, or knitting a hat and donating the proceeds creates access. Access for those selling the product and donating the proceeds as well as access to those using the product to create space for rejuvenation. It allows people to contribute financially and tend their own nervous systems through making. It supports artists. It supports causes. It sustains spirits.
A good example of what this kind of participation can look like is Resist, a hand-dyed colorway by Montana Crochet. 50% of all proceeds from this colorway will go directly to the Immigrant Rapid Response Fund ran by the Women’s Foundation of Minnesota. In this way, the work done by this small business to feed their family becomes a way to sustain a broader movement and nourish collective care.
Denying ourselves joy in times of struggle is not noble. It is dangerous.
Whether rest comes from knitting, watching a familiar show, or sitting quietly with tea, there is value in it. We do not shame people for a streaming subscription during hard times. We should not shame them for choosing yarn and stitches instead.

✦ Healers, Warriors, and the Work We Share ✦

We need healers and warriors.
The healers must ensure their kindness does not enable harm. The warriors must ensure their rage is aimed where it belongs.
And all of us—makers, writers, fighters, caregivers—must resist the urge to turn on one another when the work feels endless and the progress too slow.
Frustration is understandable but we are not helpless. When those feelings begin to arise, I encourage us to consider them a warning that we need a moment to gather ourselves, touch the Earth, make some stitches and reflect on what motivates us to keep doing the work we have been called to do — be that fight or create spaces of beauty.
Directing that frustration at one another and accusing each other of not doing enough only serves the very thing we fight. AND when we sense that frustration is being directed at us from within, we can remember those directing the frustration are tired, overwhelmed and in need our capacity to create beauty more than ever.

✦ Should We Keep Politics Out Of Fiber Arts? ✦
No. As a matter of fact, it cannot be done. Fiber artists are notoriously political and craft circles have long been a cover for people (often women) gathering to create change.
There is a real difference between “keeping politics out of fiber arts” and intentionally creating spaces where people can come together across differences to celebrate what we share: creativity, a love of beauty, humanity.
I believe deeply that it is in spaces such as knit nights and online communities that real connection forms. When we see one another as human first, not as positions or votes, we lay the groundwork for meaningful change.
Conflict exists, but so does connection. When our connection becomes stronger than our conflict, our desire to tend what we share has the power to create a lasting kind of co-created change, supported by commonality and respect.

✦ The Final Thread ✦

Change is not sustained by rage without rest, nor by rest without responsibility. It is sustained by people doing the work they are called to do—honestly, imperfectly, and together.
If knitting is how you fight, knit.If knitting is how you rest, knit.If knitting is how you survive long enough to keep caring—then keep knitting.
May we offer one another radical compassion, resist the urge to judge what we cannot see, and remember that beauty itself can be a powerful force for change.
May our stitches shape more than fabric, may ground us in craft, Land, and community,
~ Sönna🌀
✨ What role are you being called to play in this season and what helps you stay rooted in it? Let’s talk in the comments.
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