Faye and I have been taking a local sewing class together.
The teacher is a local woman. She doesn’t lead a class like a school teacher, so much as just hangs out, answers questions and helps people with their projects. If you ask for her help with something specific, she’ll happily show you what to do by doing the first steps for you. Unfortunately, as a complete sewing novice I had no idea what to even ask for help with. Luckily after a while of sitting around awkwardly, some of the other students began chatting to me and giving me directions.
The class is all women—mostly older women, and a few young girls—except for me. I’ve spoken to one other guy who went to the class last year. He said he felt discriminated against for being male. I haven’t felt that myself. In fact, I was the first to finish stitching my “uppers” (that is, the sewn pictures on the tops of gloves or slippers) and the class seemed quite excited about that.
Still, there is a much stronger sense of gender segregation here than I’m used to in the big cities. There’s men’s roles—like hunting and fishing—and women’s roles—like sewing and cooking—and not many people try to transgress them. Apparently, while “out on the land”, women who try to go hunting (instead of staying at camp and cooking) face all sorts of opprobrium. I think it’s less of a problem for men to sew, but we’ll see how it develops.
I’ve also been sewing at home in the evenings sometimes. Faye and I watch netflix while I sew and she works on our wedding scrap book.
