Thank you to Victoria Surtees, Teaching and Learning Specialist in Inclusive and Intercultural Education for sharing this amazing project that she initiated when she observed a need to find some connection amongst us. Read all about Craft and Commiserate below, and please consider joining in!
Crafting Community
When I started Craft and Commiserate two years ago, I wasn’t trying to solve loneliness in higher education. I was simply noticing something: my colleagues were craving connection, but they were exhausted by the idea of another meeting, another networking event, another obligation to be “on.”
We’ve all felt it. The isolation that crept in during the pandemic never fully left. Budget constraints across Canadian post-secondary institutions have meant doing more with less. Here in the Fraser Valley, we’ve weathered literal floods alongside the metaphorical ones—increased enrollment pressures, mental health crises among students and staff alike, and the persistent hum of anxiety that seems to characterize modern academic life.
The very structures meant to bring us together, committees, strategic planning sessions, professional development workshops, can sometimes deepen our sense of disconnection.
So I created a different kind of space.
Not Another Meeting
Craft and Commiserate happens monthly on Tuesdays for one hour in Room G124. There are tables, music playing softly in the background, and coffee and tea. Sometimes we work on a collaborative project—last year we wove designs on embroidery hoops together; this year we’ve made wool wreaths and small pumpkins, and pop-up cards. But here’s what makes it different: you don’t have to participate in the group craft. You can bring your own project or just come and chat.
People have brought knitting, crochet, felting, pipe cleaner crafts, leather work, and embroidery. One person works quietly on their project for the full hour, barely speaking. Another arrives with questions about everyone’s week and enthusiasm for whatever anyone is making. Both experiences are equally welcome, equally valid.
This is not a social event in the traditional sense. There’s no pressure to mingle, no awkward name tag circles, no forced ice breakers. Your eyes can be on your craft. Your hands are busy. And somehow, in that space where the pressure to perform sociability is lifted, real connection happens.
The Magic of Busy Hands
There’s something profound about getting to know people while your hands are occupied. The conversation flows differently when you’re not making eye contact across a conference table or standing with a drink at a mixer, searching for something to say. The craft becomes a third point in the conversation—a bridge, a buffer, a shared focus that paradoxically allows for deeper personal connection.
We talk about challenges at work and challenges at home. We share our hobbies, our families, our strategies for decompressing in a world that feels increasingly overwhelming. Someone from the library mentions a new service for students, and faculty members learn something valuable they can bring back to their classrooms. A staff member from facilities shares a perspective that shifts how a professor thinks about campus space. These aren’t planned knowledge-sharing sessions—they’re organic conversations that emerge when people from different corners of the university simply exist together in a low-pressure environment.
Interdisciplinary by Accident, Powerful by Design
Some months we have mostly staff. Other months, mostly faculty. But the mix is always different, and that’s part of the beauty. Craft and Commiserate has become an accidentally interdisciplinary space. In higher education, we talk a lot about breaking down silos, about fostering collaboration across departments. But I’ve learned that the most meaningful collaborations often emerge not from strategic planning, but from the simple act of being together.
When a teaching and learning specialist, a librarian, a biology professor, and someone from student services are all focused on making tiny pumpkins out of wool, the usual hierarchies and departmental boundaries soften. We’re just people, making things, talking about life.
Some people come to craft in quiet community. Some come to see what others are making and to chat. Everyone gets to choose how they want to be together, without the obligation to complete a shared project or maintain a certain energy level. In a world that demands so much from us, this small offering of choice and gentleness feels radical.
Join Us
Whether you’re an expert crafter or someone who hasn’t picked up a creative project since childhood, there’s a place for you at the table. Bring a project or work on whatever we’re making that month. Come every time or drop in when you can.
To sign up for our mailing list and receive updates about upcoming sessions, email tlcevents@ufv.ca.
Your hands might be busy, but your heart might just find the connection it’s been craving.