“If we want the world to be beautiful, kind and fair, then our activism needs to be beautiful, kind and fair”
One little cross-stitch kit prompted Sarah Corbett to start a campaigning craft movement, the Craft Collective. She talked to Ruth Chandler about the power of gentle protest
Activist Sarah Corbett walks into a Shoreditch café and orders an iced coffee, whipping out a bamboo straw from her bag to replace the disposable plastic version served alongside. The barista is clearly intrigued, so she quietly explains the environmental reasons she carries it. This approach epitomises her successful conversational versus confrontational style: “If you’re preachy, people switch off, but if you gently sow the seed of a positive thought, it might take root and spread,” she says.
Sarah is founder of the Craftivist Collective, a social enterprise that encourages campaigning through the medium of needlework. Prior to setting it up, for ten years, she worked at a number of NGOs, then got a job on a new £10m project at the Department for International Development. “It was a small team and we lived and breathed it – incredible but exhausting.” But 18 months in, she began to feel burnt out. One day, in a bid to relax, she bought a simple cross-stitch kit to do on the train. “I didn’t like the design – it was a teddy – but it was small and I missed using my hands as I used to love art. It immediately calmed me down, made me mindful of the fact that my breath was shallow and that I was shaky. It also allowed me to think deeply about what I was doing and it was empowering because I could see that I was achieving something.”
That tiny kit made a huge impact on Sarah: she saw the potential to use craft in the sometimes aggressive arena of activism. Googling the words ‘craft’ and ‘activism’, she stumbled upon Betsy Greer who coined the term ‘craftivism’, and documented how it had been used in history. Sarah taught herself cross-stitch and hand-embroidery, mainly courtesy of YouTube, shared her project ideas with others via a blog and soon formed regular gatherings at the Royal Festival Hall in London’s Southbank Centre. Eight years later, the Craftivist Collective has around 20,000 members and many more supporters, who subscribe to her brand of slow activism, using the methods to contemplate and act on issues as diverse as the conflict in Syria and the felling of important local trees. “It’s about showing people what they can do,” she says.
THE ART OF GENTLE PROTEST
To distinguish it from other forms of craftivism, such as the work by her yarnbombing friend Lauren O’Farrell (featured in issue 41 of The Simple Things), which she describes as mainly street art and fundraising, she calls it ‘gentle protest’. “If we want the world to be beautiful, kind and fair, our activism needs to be beautiful, kind and fair.” Sarah promotes the use of needlework versus knitting and crochet: “Craftivism must be accessible – I don’t want to target people who are just into craft. You don’t need to be creative with cross-stitch, there’s a grid. It’s also attractive, delicate, small, you can use words in it and it reminds you of grandmother. All those elements are really powerful.”
The stitch-ins that she holds are decorated with bunting and stocked with cupcakes and jam sandwiches, which attract passers-by to talk to the participants and get involved. Ethically produced kits, including a kitsch mini-banner – an antidote to the large, loud, off-putting ones used in traditional campaigning – are sold via the website. However strongly she believes in her quiet techniques, Sarah
sees them as an addition to the existing toolkit. “My work is filling in the gaps, not replacing other forms of activism. Sometimes you use the spanner – sometimes the hammer.”
Which is all very well, you might say, but surely gentle protest can’t be as effective as other forms… The 50,000 employees of M&S who are now on the Independent Living Wage, thanks to the collaboration between Craftivist Collective and ShareAction, would strongly disagree. Sarah’s supporters sewed handkerchieves bearing messages for the 14 board members, including the phrase “Don’t blow it, use your power for good”, as part of the campaign, which resulted in the company announcing its plan to increase staff pay to £8.50 per hour in UK stores and £9.65 in greater London from April this year.
THE VALUE OF INTROVERTS
Unsurprisingly, Sarah’s approach appeals to fellow introverts who often feel excluded from conventional activism, which tends to favour extroverts. Her heroes are in the same vein: Gandhi, Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King (an ambivert). “The Collective shows introverts that they can be really valuable. It’s about »
“I want to know that I’ve tried my hardest to be part of the solution and not the problem”
thoughtfulness in all your actions – being the change you wish to see in the world. The projects can be done as an individual or in a group. The slow pace of the activity encourages reflection on the issue, while the lack of eye contact when stitching means people don’t feel under pressure to talk.”
Being easily overwhelmed by large crowds, Sarah always looks for somewhere she can go to recharge by being alone for a few minutes after running workshops and giving talks internationally. “I spend a lot of time hanging out in loos,” she says. She also admits to being scared of putting up her own work, which can involve cable-tying it to lamp-posts and railings on busy city streets. “It’s a challenge for all introverts because seeking attention is the last thing we want to do.” The most they could be charged with is littering, but who would call these charming items bearing thoughtprovoking messages rubbish? No one yet.
ROOTED IN SOCIAL INJUSTICE
Sarah’s fears belie her lifelong involvement in protests. Growing up in inner-city Liverpool, at the age of three she squatted in local housing with her vicar father and active, supportive mother (now a political councillor) to successfully save it. Social injustice was a big theme in the Corbett household – and the protest songs of Tracey Chapman and Joan Baez the soundtrack. This influenced all three siblings; Sarah’s younger brother Thomas is now a civil servant and older sister Emma is a social worker and protester.
Sarah also developed a strong Christian faith of her own, which she says threads through everything she does. Her favourite read is Martin Luther King’s collection of sermons Strength to Love. “I’m always dipping into that. I’d love to memorise every word.” Her parents’ prominent positions, however, marked out their children as targets for bullying. “In our area, the uniform was a tracksuit. One day, I’d dress as a hippy, the next as a Goth and I’d get glass bottles thrown at me in the street.” She and Thomas often stayed in the house, listening to Nirvana. Far from resenting the fact that she was persecuted for being different, though, Sarah sees the experience as hugely formative, giving her tenacity and drive.
Her love of fashion is undiminished, too. Her latest acquisition is from chic boho brand Zadig & Voltaire. “It was in the sale, massively, because who’s going to buy a gold suit? When I checked the label I was praying it wasn’t unethical, but it’s all made in the EU. I’ll put it on for the launch of my book about how to be a craftivist: activists should be able to wear gold suits.” On the theme of clothing as statement, what did Sarah make of one of the most prominent craftivist acts of the year: those pussycat hats, worn on the Women’s Marches? “The image was incredible, but it was a missed opportunity, there was no clear call to action and it felt a bit show-offy, but at least lots of people demonstrated against Trump’s comments.”
A THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE
Ironically, despite her constant campaigning against injustice, Sarah is currently a self-confessed onewoman sweatshop, putting all the kits together and sending them to members across the world from her tiny flat in Haggerston, East London. She has a small steering group she checks in with and some experienced volunteers, but she doesn’t earn enough to pay herself a salary, let alone take on employees. Downtime is rare, but her simple thing is reading a book in the bath surrounded by candles, until her toes go wrinkly. When her sister Emma can tell she’s tired and angsty, she’ll take her off to the cinema. “I love going in the middle of the day, weirdly. Being immersed in one thing like that stops my brain chattering.”
Even when she’s off duty, Sarah has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, opting for a documentary over a
blockbuster every time. It’s curiosity and the ability to detect a silver lining that’s characterised so many of her life choices. As a reaction to 9/11, she opted to study for a degree in Religions & Theology because she felt ignorant about extremism. And when, being a city girl, she felt no connection to nature but wanted to get involved with climate change activism, at the age of 18 she went to Borneo, working in rainforest conservation, sleeping in a hammock, getting trenchfoot and learning how to kill and cook a wild chicken – “The best I’ve ever eaten”.
Just when you think this irrepressibly positive woman couldn’t get more likeable, she admits to doubting what she’s doing at least once a week. But browsing the emails she’s received from followers saying the Collective has made a difference to their lives soon sets her back on the right path. “I want to know I’ve tried my hardest to be part of the solution and not the problem. The world is a gorgeous place, but it could be even better.” Find out more about Craftivist Collective at craftivistcollective.com. Sarah’s book How to be a Craftivist:
the Art of Gentle Protest (Unbound) is available from 5 October. Sarah has a living wage from those who adopt her. If you are interested in supporting her in this way, see craftivist-collective.com/adopt-a-craftivist