Monday, August 23, 2010
I attempted to go to my first knitting social at a great, newly discovered yarn store lastt week. I say attempted because here is how it went:
I happened upon super cute said shop where I learned of the upcoming Knit Night, which I quickly plugged into my mental calendar. I dreamed of mingling with like-minded women as needles clicked and words like worsted weight and cable and purl floated around the room, but truly, I wasn't sure what to expect.
So I packed up my yarn and did a drive-by peeking to see if there was anyone there. The bell on the door chime greeted the 5 women already sitting in the small shop, but no one looked up to welcome me into the fray. I surrepititiously browsed the yarn, waiting for some recognition of my presence until someone (I suppose one of the owners) finally sent a weak hello my way.
I continued around the store, touching, appearing to be busy, secretly eavesdropping and wondering if I would be allowed to enter the club, if even for a visit. I made a full circle without any acknowledgment of my presence, even nearly bumping into the owner-woman at one point, still being ignored.
So I left, thinking to myself that this was much less of a Knitting Social than it was a Knitting Antisocial. I also left feeling keenly aware of how easy it is to be a part of a clique and vowing to make a more concerted effort to not repeat this very high school behavior in my own life.
I will reach out to women who don't have a place at church, I will not let the unnoticeable students be invisible this year, and I will keep being friends with the underdogs.
What can you do to make sure an outsider is made welcome in your life?