My grandmother, Tye Renfro, was both a keeper and a breaker of traditions. For instance: you better not wear your cowboy boots with a skirt (they were for riding horses, not fashion), but she wasn’t about to wear a skirt at college just because it was expected of her. When I think of the word “tradition,” I think of her. Maybe it’s because our most consistent holiday tradition was Thanksgiving at her house. Or maybe it’s because of all of the stories and knowledge she passed down to me when it was my turn to spend a week at her house.
One of the aspects I remember most about my grandmother, though, was her ability to sew just about anything. She did the most amazing needlework. When I was little, she taught me how to thread a needle and let me make some stitches on a scrap piece of cloth. I wasn’t very good and I had a short attention span, so that lasted about five minutes before she gave up teaching me. That was one traditional art that seemed destined not to be passed down.
Throughout this book, you’ll find stories that highlight aspects of “tradition.” Some are passed down, like a recipe for the perfect winter soup. Some take on the idea of forming a new tradition. And some are devoted to continuing and building on traditional artforms, like needlepoint.
Like several of the ladies in the Upstate Stitchers, I was desperate for a new hobby during the pandemic. I thought back to how my grandmother had started making a quilt for me before she passed, using squares of cross-stitched fabric. I figured maybe I could learn cross stitching so I could finish it someday. Cross stitching lasted even less than five minutes. But what I did discover was that I enjoyed embroidery. I learned some basic stitches, but my short attention span kept me from doing things the “right” way. I wasn’t drawing out anything. I wasn’t following patterns. I just took a needle, some embroidery floss, and whatever cloth I could find and started making a pattern up as I went.
The result was finding a new way of expressing myself that breaks the mold, but is also rooted in a traditional art form. Like my grandmother, I’m also a keeper and a breaker of traditions. I recently returned from a trip to see my parents with a square my grandmother had started for that blanket. I may never be able to finish it the way it was intended, but I can put my own spin on it and add my own new twist on what was passed down to me.
Photos by Jen Jefferson.
