Student View: Crafting community and resilience
In this Student View column, Leihanah Weinacht ’27 shares how a recent Crafting Resilience event brought students, faculty, staff, and community members together through creativity and connection — and how handcrafts can help us navigate challenging times. The next Crafting Resilience event will take place on November 4.
Fall at St. Olaf College is particularly beautiful. The campus quad transforms into a grandiose array of color, and the sunsets over Skoglund Center are truly remarkable. The crisp air and falling leaves have a way of making me want to cozy up, read a book, and drink tea. I find this time of year perfect for settling down to do a craft; working with my hands is calming, and gives me a welcome break from my phone.
My love for crafts is what led me to the Crafting Resilience event that took place on September 22 in the Munch Room. The event was made possible through funding from the Gimse Striving for Peace on Horizon’s Brim Art Endowment.
When I entered the space, I was greeted by calming music, refreshments, and a room full of people talking, knitting, crocheting, embroidering, and needle-felting. It was immediately clear that I wasn’t the only one who found comfort in crafting, especially during the autumn season.
Krista Anderson-Larson, artist and collections manager at the Flaten Art Museum and the mastermind behind this event, saw me looking a bit lost and offered a warm welcome After I conceded that, yes, I was “the press,” and that I wanted to learn more about the meaning of “craft resilience,” they offered to share some insights into the formation of the event.
Anderson-Larson explained that the idea had come about during Operation Metro Surge. While knitting at home, feeling isolated by the events taking place outside, they said to themselves: “I’m really mad at the situation, and I’m going to knit it out.”
After taking part in solitary activity for so long, Anderson-Larson wanted to connect with others and realized she could make a difference in the local community.
This wasn’t Anderson-Larson’s first foray into the world of community events. Last year, they hosted a pronoun button workshop and saw firsthand how meaningful these gatherings can be. She recognized the importance of sharing skills like knitting alongside the broader concept of “crafting resilience.”
“It struck a chord right away. For me and those who are partaking, this event fit that niche like a puzzle piece.”
To make the event more accessible, Anderson-Larson partnered with the Get Bentz Farm in Northfield, which donated locally sourced wool and yarn. The contribution helped remove a barrier to entry for participants who might not otherwise be able to afford high-quality, long-lasting materials.
Anderson-Larson also had the opportunity to tour the farm, thus deepening a local relationship and extending the event’s sense of community beyond St. Olaf.
“It becomes something bigger than myself by inviting other people who have skills I don’t have,” Anderson-Larson says. “That’s the meat of it.”
After my conversation with Anderson-Larson, I moved between tables to see what an event like Crafting Resilience means for its attendees. I spoke with three lovely people: Jay Rief ’28; Christina Spiker, Assistant Professor of Art and Art History; and Lucy Lindgren ’25, the Lutheran Center Program Coordinator for Congregational Thriving
Rief explained that they attended because they wanted to “get creative and be in a creative space especially with the busyness of school.”
I could relate, as I’m sure many students can.
Decreasing screen time also became a common theme. Spiker enjoys fiber arts like needle felting because they offer an escape from her computer, while Lindgren shared that crocheting “decreases [her] screen time.”
Beyond providing a creative outlet, attendees emphasized the value of building community through fiber arts, particularly as a source of comfort and resistance to oppression.
“The community aspect is a really big deal,” Rief says. “Doing this right now in the world we’re in is a type of resistance, and I think that facilitating that is something that needs to happen more.”
Spiker echoed that sentiment. “Resilience in hard times really is community — that’s what gets you through those hard times,” she says. “Events like this create an open opportunity for students, faculty, and staff — and even members of the local community — to come together and make something cool.”
For Lindgren, that sense of connection began with an open door.
“I was walking across the hall toward the Lutheran Center, saw yarn, and said to myself, “Oh! There’s yarn.”
That simple discovery led her to join the event, and how I learned Lindgren loves crocheting because it “lets [her] spend time with folks,” and how I got to see the adorable cow baby blanket she was crocheting. All three attendees I spoke to, who I might not otherwise have met had I not attended the event, inspired me to dig deeper into my fiber art efforts, decrease my screen time, and contribute to the practice of community creation however I can.
The core of Crafting Resilience is to create community, share life skills like knitting and crocheting, and, most importantly, support one another by literally “crafting” resilience in the face of difficult circumstances.
“When we get together in a space like this — doing something with our hands — we’re making more than just the thing,” Anderson-Larson says. “We’re making community in the face of oppression.”
Like a warm knitted blanket on a cool autumn evening, Crafting Resilience offers comfort and a sense of belonging, reminding us that the connections we weave today can provide strength and support for whatever the future may hold.