I have a memory of when I was a little girl, 5 years old, cozied up next to my great-grandmother in her home. It was 1965. Her basket of knitting supplies was out, and she was giving me a lesson. In the nearby kitchen, chicken and baking powder biscuits were in the oven, the savory smell surrounding us.
My great-grandmother was always working on something: Hand stitching doilies, knitting socks, sewing clothing. Like painting for me, working with textiles was her way of creating. It was therapeutic, bringing calm to herself and beauty to her home, and it was one of the many ways she showed us what joy and care looked and felt like.
I still have a drawer full of her intricate doilies, and each time I pull one out, I’m brought back to those moments with her, when little Cindy received the best gift of all: Her time and attention.
At the same time that my 5-year old self was soaking up my great grandmother’s affection while learning as much as I could about her skill, the US was escalating its military involvement in the Vietnam War.
As a kid, I was mildly aware of what was going on, but another gift my great grandmother gave me was protection from fear.
As we sat and stitched, we were taking a stand, unbeknownst to me at the time. We were continuing to create. We were continuing to spread joy. We were continuing to find calm.
When I think about the world we’re living in today, one rife with war, with hate, and with attacks against the very rights women and minorities have fought for for centuries, I worry most about our children.
As I now sit with my own grandchildren, seeing the spark in their eyes when they hold a paintbrush and create with me, the smell of cookies or banana bread baking in the background, I wonder how I can best protect them.
And it brings me back to my own great grandmother. I can live each day with gratitude and kindness. I can continue to create, and teach my grandkids and their friends the rebellious joy that comes from that.
We can’t know what’s coming next. We only have this moment, today.
I am full of worry, of fear. As I’m sure my great grandmother was. And so, I will continue in her way: I will trust that nurturing and supporting the children in my life will help them build the resilience they need to get through anything negative that comes their way.
And in doing so, I inevitably learn from them. I learn that continuing to put my energy into creative, positive things, without letting the fear and lack creep into the cracks, is how I will continue to see love and hope and beauty in my surroundings and the people around me.
As I’ve shared before, “If there is art, there is hope.”
Keep creating, friends. Your art, your voice, and your joy, are the most beautiful acts of rebellion, and a truly generous way to remain hopeful.
Our children and grandchildren deserve a world full of love, of beauty, and of art. It’s up to us to give that to them.
Speaking of protecting our children: The Child Advocacy Center of the Finger Lakes, an organization near and dear to my heart, is hosting its annual “Shine Bright for Children Gala” on Friday, June 6, 2025. I’ve donated a painting for the silent auction, but there are many other ways to get involved. Visit their site to learn more 💛