Reflections on Cultivating a Future Fiber Artist

I have been interested in making things all my life. My curiosity for creative exploration was largely shaped by my parents — lifelong artists and endlessly crafty individuals — who shared their skills with me, sometimes intentionally and sometimes through the osmosis of our shared living space.
Because contemporary craft lives at the intersection of fine art and function, I meet people who have personal connections to fiber art daily in my job as Education Manager at Textile Center. I love hearing about the personal connections that first sparked their interest in craft. These art forms have been passed from generation to generation as a matter of domestic survival for millennia. Incredible handwork, considered ordinary within the context of home utility, was regularly created by people who did not consider themselves artists. It is no wonder that we speak of them with such reverence. When I close my eyes and reflect on the contents of my own creative scaffolding, I am transported to my own small library of ordinary interactions that held lasting impact:
I am four years old, in my bedroom, deeply immersed in a round of make-believe, dramatized through the conduit of my Barbie doll. This game of pretend has been inspired by a recent addition to her wardrobe: a handmade gown stitched from black craft felt. It features a sweetheart neckline, a fitted bodice, and a gathered skirt that dramatically puffs from the knees. My mother, a skilled sewist, made it for me. It has become the most precious garment I own.


I am seven years old, and I don’t want to go to school today. It is the liminal moment between breakfast and departure, and I am occupying my dad’s drafting table littered with a diametric assortment of finely detailed illustrations and scratch-like children’s drawings. It doesn’t take much effort to turn on the tears as I appeal to him that our day would be better spent together in his studio, which he calls The Art Department, than in the classroom. To my surprise, I succeed. Even as a child I knew this was an unrepeatable win.
It’s summer break. I’m twelve years old and battling a near-feral state of late-summer boredom in rural Nebraska. My mom offers to teach me to make dolls. She knows that giving something to do with my hands will help to calm my brain. We shop the house for supplies: a package of polyfill stuffing, a set of hosiery, a needle, some thread. She shows me how to tie a knot by winding thread around your finger and rolling it with your thumb — a technique I still use to this day. I cut sections of hosiery, stuff with polyfill, and tie the endings closed. Then, I sculpt faces using a threaded needle. My mom will probably notice that her stockings are disappearing over the remainder of the summer, as my doll creations multiply, but she does not mention it to me.
Today, I’m thirty-five years old, and I’m a fiber artist. I trained as an illustrator, but handcraft seemed to demand itself, showing up in elements of my work through undergrad. Eventually, my creative practice became entirely hand-worked—pieced, twisted, and embellished with thread. Looking back at my early mentorships and influences, it feels almost inevitable. I am currently mending a quilt hand-stitched by my paternal grandmother in the 1970s and have a collection of other handmade ancestral works carefully tucked away in my home. I am grateful for the way fiber art has woven itself into my life.
Who has guided your path to fiber art? I would love to hear how your loved ones shaped your journey as a Future Fiber Artist. If you’re so inclined, please share your story in the comments!
And if you know a young person who could benefit from a creative mentor, let them know about our Future Fiber Artists program at Textile Center. This program aims to cultivate the next generation of fiber art enthusiasts, helping youth ages 7–12 years old build excitement, confidence, and skill in needle-based fiber arts like crocheting, knitting, embroidery, and hand-stitching. Our fall after-school class, exploring the wonders of embroidery, begins October 22, 2025.
— Chloe Russell Chang
Education Manager at Textile Center




My mom’s memory, emailed to me after reading this post:
“When I was in kindergarten my sister was in the 2nd grade. She came home from school with
knitting needles & yarn & would cast on 6 or 7 stitches & would just knit a long swatch that
looked like a belt. I was mesmerized! I didn't know what it was but I wanted to do it.
Then, when I started 2nd grade I had the same teacher. When it rained & we couldn't go
outside for recess, our teacher whipped out knitting needles & yarn for everyone in the class.
She taught us all how to knit & purl. I was on a knitting roll. I started knitting long skinny
swatches like my sister did. Then I started knitting Barbie doll dresses. I kept knitting off & on.
In Jr high I bought a small booklet called Learn How to Knit. It was then I discovered there
were more stitches than knit & purl. I still have the booklet.
In high school I made a tunic style sweater that had more intricate stitches. It was supposed to
be for my sister but I misjudged & made it in my size. She was buxom & I was Twiggy.
I found knitting to be relaxing. In high school I was sewing my own cheerleading skirt. When I
pressed the pleats I scorched it. I got so nervous & upset I just kept pacing around distressing
about what to do. I sat down & knitted & calmed myself down & later was able to salvage the
skirt.
I have become a lifelong knitter. “
Such a nice read. My entire life has been connected to fiber. My mom was pregnant with me when she was in school doing a degree in clothing and textiles. She has been sewing for 60 years. She taught me how to handstitch and use a machine before I started primary school. My paternal grandmother was a seamstress, and my aunts knew how to sew. With all that, I still never imagined my life would end up where it is now...teaching people how to sew.😅