I swear, I’m just about to move on from this for now, but I wanted to say this. When I was in the process of making the squares for the bright afghan, I folded the large squares in half and then in half again. The medium squares I did the same for. It was easier to store them that way, while still having their colors and patterns as a reference when working on the next squares.
Over time, because it’s cotton, the squares have begun to crease along the same folds I keep making in them.
My goal has always been to make an afghan out of yarn I dyed myself. Those individuals squares have always been destined to be a part of an afghan, even if I wasn’t sure how that afghan would turn out or whether I’d even have enough yarn or what.
And yet, as I’m starting to sew squares into panels which will eventually be sewn into a blanket, I was taken aback last night to discover that, when I folded the panel I was working on, I didn’t use the old creases. The panel is a piece that has different folds. And when the afghan is done, it’ll fold in even different places. Once those squares are a part of the afghan, they aren’t going to behave in the way I’ve grown accustomed to them behaving.
The big ones will probably never be folded in fourths and the little ones, which didn’t fold at all, will fold when joined together with others.
I’m not trying to say that feminism is ever going to be some uniform thing, like an afghan. What I’m trying to say, and I need to hear this as much as anyone, is that we cannot take for granted that how things work will always be how things work and we can’t expect that things will always work the same as they’ve always worked.
If we want to make anything–an afghan, progress, whatever–we have to allow for change and surprise and for learning that we are just another part of things and not the most important.