Consider: the Cardigan

I have just finished reading Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers, by Kwame Anthony Appiah. I may write a more insightful review later, but here is what I felt compelled to write once I turned the final page. I am an accomplished knitter, by multiple means of judgement. In the five years since I learned, I have mastered many techniques (lace, fair isle, intarsia), I have knit more than twenty sweaters and countless other hats, mittens, and cowls. I have taught people to knit. I revise patterns freely and would invent my own if I thought the millions of patterns out there were insufficient to meet my needs. I am familiar with the work of major knitwear designers, the history of regionally specific knitting traditions, and what I don't know I can discover through the various websites and publications I am familiar with. I am not bragging when I say I am an adept knitter. I recognize that there is a limit to the scope of what knitting can do, though I am a relentless advocate of the craft. I also recognize that not everyone wants to knit, values knit objects or has the obligation to listen to me go on about knitting. But some things specific to knitting have universal application. Consider the cardigan. As a basic means of covering the upper torso, the cardigan is constrained by its forms. Variations abound in sleeve and body length, stitch type, size of yarn. However, there is a limit to how many permutations one can get out of a knit cardigan. It is possible, after perusing many thousands of patterns, to become familiar with the categories of variation in the cardigan form. I know from my personal cardigan knitting history that I prefer a scoop necked, 3/4 sleeve, worsted weight cardigan with set in sleeves or a rounded yoke in cool or grey colors over the many other types of cardigan I could knit. It is also possible to note my entry into knitting with what patterns and techniques I am familiar with and how I create categories of distinction in my knitting. Thus, my choice of one style of knitting (wearable cardigans that keep me warm and fit my aesthetic, body presentation and wardrobe) shapes the way I view the craft. It is this universal specificity that comes with sufficient experience and conversation within a particular form. So too with theater- my experience will never be anyone else's, but I am experienced enough in theater that I can discuss theater with anyone who has an interest- teach them, work with them, learn from them. I know how to ask questions, when I am learning something new and how to adapt what I know to what I am learning. I like the fact that people have to invest time, practice and discipline, but are rewarded with understanding, communication and belonging. I am constantly paralleling my love and skill with knitting to my love and understanding of theater. I can't make people love theater, any more than I can force them to take up knitting. But I can offer my love of theater as a way to understand ourselves and others through emotionally compelling storytelling. I can invite people into the conversation; they can decide if it's a conversation they want to have.