Skip to main content
I just cleaned up after another sewing lesson with my student. One of the things that I keep realizing while teaching, is that as a teacher I can either empower my student so she feels capable, or I can convince her that I am the source of all knowledge, and that she is but a bug, in the world of sewing.


Probably the best way to help my student to feel capable, is not to hover as she works. So I make myself busy as she sews. I do some of my own sewing. I deal with the laundry, or make myself a cup of tea as she sews on my machine.

As she begins the next step on a garment, I will point out the sorts of mistakes that I tend to make over and over again, so she can avoid them. Generally, my errors are good teachers. I will generally explain why we are using a particular technique. If I know that my student knows a couple of different ways to approach a task, I will ask her which one she prefers to use.

One of the things I love about my student is how different her work style is from mine. Today she needed to take out a row of black top-stitching from a band of wide elastic. It was slow and pesky work. I suggested that she might want to save that work for home. She refused. she said that she loves doing it. It is my least favorite thing to do, un-sewing. I'm glad that my student enjoys doing it.

Next week we will attach her skirt to the bodice of her dress. It will be another adventure in gathering.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Connecting with the past

A few months ago I had a craving for my fatherā€™s chicken fricassee.  If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it.    My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid.  I assumed that the dish was an invention of my fatherā€™s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed.   A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I canā€™t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee  and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...

The light themed tallit has been shipped!!!

 I had begun speaking to Sarah about making her a tallit in the middle of August. It took a few weeks to nail down the design. For Sarah it would have been ideal if the tallit were completed in time for her to wear it on Rosh HaShanah., the beginning of her year as senior rabbi of her congregation. For me, in an ideal world, given the realities of preparing for the High Holidays I would have finished this tallit in the weeks after Sukkot. So we compromised and I shipped off the tallit last night.  I would have prefered to have more time but I got the job done in time. This tallit was made to mark Sarah's rise to the position of senior rabbi but it was also a reaction to this year of darkness. She chose a selection of verses about light to be part of her tallit. 1)  אֵל נוֹ×ØÖøא עֲל֓ילÖøה  God of awesome deeds ( from a yom kippur Liturgical poem) 2)  אוֹ×Ø ×—ÖøדÖøשׁ עַל־צ֓יּוֹן ×ŖÖ¼Öøא֓י×Ø   May You shine a new light on Zion ( from the liturgy) 3)  יÖøאֵ×Ø ×™Ö°×”Ö¹...

A Passover loss

 My parents bought this tablecloth during their 1955 visit to Israel. It is made out of  linen from the first post 1948 flax harvest. The linen is heavy and almost crude. The embroidery is very fine. We used this cloth every Passover until the center wore thin.  You can see the cloth on the table in the background of this photo of my parents and nephew My Aunt Sheva bought my mother a replacement cloth. The replacement cloth is made out of a cotton poly blend. The embroidery is crude and the colors not nearly as nice. The old cloth hung in our basement. We used the new cloth and remembered the much nicer original cloth. I loved that my aunt wanted to replace the cloth, I just hated the replacement because it was so much less than while evoking the beauty of the original. After my father died my mother sat me down and with great ceremony gave me all of her best tablecloths. She also gave me the worn Passover cloth and suggested that I could mend it. I did. Year after year ...