The Quiet Joy of Helping One Person at a Time As a Crafter and Author
On academic citations, student emails, and why individual connections matter more than journal recognition
I’ve been researching and writing about crochet as therapy for well over a decade now. It started from lived experience, from my own journey through depression and discovering how this simple craft helped me heal. Then came the research, the interviews with thousands of people, the writing, the books. Over time, I became what you might call “an expert” in this niche intersection of craft and mental health.
Some days I still find that strange. I’m just someone who picked up a crochet hook when I was drowning, and it threw me a lifeline. But now there’s a body of work, a trail of research, citations in academic journals.
When my work on crochet as therapy gets cited in an academic journal, I feel a certain sense of validation. It means the years of research, the thousands of interviews, the deep dive into the intersection of craft and mental health: it all matters beyond my own lived experience. It’s being taken seriously. It’s contributing to a larger body of knowledge.
But here’s what I’ve learned over these years: That validation, as gratifying as it is, doesn’t compare to the feeling I get when a single person reaches out to say that my work has helped them, or when a student emails asking for guidance on a research project about the healing power of crochet.
Recently, I received an email from a high school sophomore working on a research project about the benefits of crocheting for basketball players. They’d been reading Crochet Saved My Life and wanted to ask me some questions. This wasn’t the first time a student has reached out, and I hope it won’t be the last. Because every time it happens, I’m reminded why I do this work in the first place.
The Questions That Keep Coming Back
The student’s questions included ones I’ve thought about deeply over the years as well as ones I hadn’t thought about a whole lot:
Why is crocheting popular?
What obstacles do crocheters face?
What would you say is the best benefit of crocheting?
What was an immediate effect that crocheting had on you?
What’s the difference between benefits for elderly people versus young people?
These aren’t just academic questions. They get at something fundamental about why we pick up a hook and yarn in the first place, and what happens when we do.
What I Shared: The Heart of Crochet’s Healing Power
In my response, I found myself returning to the themes that have been central to my work for over a decade.
The immediate effect was the one I remember most viscerally from my own experience with depression. Focusing on the yarn and stitches immediately helped me stop focusing on all the negative thoughts in my head. It gave me space to begin healing. I shared a passage from my book about how crochet brought color back into my grey world. Not just in my crochet corner, but eventually in how I noticed the blue in the sky, the blue in my boyfriend’s eyes, in a way I simply hadn’t noticed in a very, very long time.
The best benefit, based on both personal experience and years of research, is that sense of relaxation and de-stressing. Crochet is a hands-on activity that helps people access the benefits of meditation and mindfulness without having to sit still or focus on breathing exercises. It calms both body and mind, which can then lead to so many other benefits.
Why it’s popular right now speaks to something many of us are craving: it’s affordable, portable, and gives us something tangible to do off of a screen. It connects us to previous generations in ways we might not even consciously recognize. For many people, it’s also relatively easy to learn, which removes a significant barrier to entry.
The obstacles are real, though. There’s historical stigma around crochet, particularly for men. It gets dismissed as a “women’s craft” and is often considered less valuable than “art.” I mentioned how football player Rosey Grier wrote a needlework book, as one example of someone challenging those stereotypes. And then there are the physical obstacles: learning curves, and over time, repetitive stress injuries like carpal tunnel. This reminded me to also mention Olympic athletes who knit and crochet. Tom Daley is the most famous, but there are others, often citing mental health benefits and relaxation as their reasons. The connection to athletics felt particularly relevant to this student’s specific research angle.
The difference between benefits for elderly and young people was perhaps the most nuanced question and maybe one that I hadn’t thought about directly even though I had a knowledge base from which to answer. The core benefits are the same for all ages, but there are unique aspects for older crocheters. Many people crocheting into their 80s, 90s, and beyond get a huge benefit from continuing to feel productive and useful. I’ve learned about many older people who have reduced eyesight or have even gone entirely blind and who are still able to crochet because they have the muscle memory. There are also benefits related to Alzheimer’s prevention and symptom mitigation. And there’s something about the tie to the past, the nostalgia, a thread of doing something you’ve done for years. Benefits I can’t quite fully articulate but that I know are deeply meaningful.
Why This Matters More
When my work appears in a peer-reviewed journal, or when other academics cite my blog posts and book in their research on textile crafting for wellbeing, it validates that this niche I’ve carved out (crochet as therapy) is worthy of serious academic consideration. It means the work can reach professors, researchers, therapists, occupational health professionals. It can influence policy and practice.
But when a student emails me? That’s completely different. That’s one person, at the beginning of their own journey of understanding, reaching out for guidance. When I take the time to answer thoughtfully, I’m doing more than helping them complete an assignment. I’m potentially shaping how they think about creativity, mental health, craft, and healing. I’m modeling that it’s worth taking seriously. I’m showing them that even when you become “an expert,” you still make time for individuals.
Over the years, I’ve received so many messages. People telling me my book helped them through depression. People asking questions about how to use crochet to manage their anxiety. People sharing their own stories of healing through fiber arts. Students working on research papers, theses, dissertations. Each one matters. Each one is a real person whose life might be touched, even in a small way, by this work.
The academic citations will always be there in databases, contributing to the scholarly conversation. But the email exchanges, the individual connections, the moment when someone feels seen and understood? Those are what remind me why I started down this path in the first place.
The Personal as Universal
When I share my own story (the grey world of depression, the first grey ball of yarn I chose, the teal I added to it, the eventual return of color to my vision), I’m giving language to something many people have experienced but couldn’t articulate. When I explain the research on rumination and how hands-on work can interrupt that cycle, I’m connecting personal experience to scientific understanding in a way that makes both more accessible.
The student who reached out will write their paper. They’ll probably cite my work. They might share what they learned with their basketball teammates or coaches or classmates. They might remember, years from now, that there’s research backing up the idea that creative practices can improve mental health and performance. Or they might just finish their assignment and move on. Either way is fine.
What matters to me is that I took the time. That I treated their questions with the same seriousness I’d bring to an academic conference or a journal article. That I shared not just the research findings, but the human experience behind them.
An Invitation
If you’re a student working on a research project related to crochet, craft, creativity, or mental health, and my work has been helpful to you, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I can’t promise I’ll always respond immediately (life happens), but I will always try to make time. Your questions matter. Your curiosity matters. The work you’re doing to understand these connections matters.
And if you’re not a student but simply someone whose life has been touched by the healing power of craft, I’d love to hear from you too. Whether it ends up in an academic journal or simply lives as a connection between two people who understand the profound gift of making something with your hands, that’s the work that really matters.
If you read this far, perhaps you liked the work. The work does take work. Support it if you can
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I certainly believe in the healing power of craft. If you have time and are interested, please see the crochet work done at the Dolls & Lions Project in Kakuma refugee camp since 2020. Trauma therapy on different levels through crochet!
Great article! Thank you for sharing this! Crafts certainly are a kind of art. I remember reading an essay years ago about how this positively impacts our brains, allowing us to create new neural connections! 🧶♥️