Two of my favorite things look unrelated on paper: shipping ideas in open source, and unwinding with a hook and yarn. In practice, they meet in the same kind of place—people choosing to teach, share, and learn where everyone can see.


I love to crochet. It is creative, tactile, and mercifully offline when I need it to be. What keeps me hooked—pun intended—is not only the stitches. It is the crochet community: strangers and friends who post tutorials, answer “what went wrong?” photos, swap modifications, and cheer messy works-in-progress next to the polished ones.

That community does not live in one room. It lives across the globe—different time zones, languages, and materials, all threaded together by the decision to put knowledge where others can find it. A chart translated, a video slowed down, a comment that says “I had the same gap in row four” turns one night’s frustration into a path for the next person. That is not a small thing. It is how culture scales when no single company owns the commons.

Learning in public is the key. I have learned some of my best fixes from half-finished pieces and honest captions: “is this supposed to curl?” Watching someone rip back a row and laugh instead of feeling bad taught me that durable spaces celebrate progress, not only a perfect feed. The gift is vulnerability on purpose—showing the attempt so the next person does not have to start from zero shame.

Open source runs on the same habit, just with different tools. Projects stretch across the world. Maintainers who answer while someone else sleeps, contributors who document the mistake so nobody repeats it, reviewers who explain why so the lesson travels farther than one patch. The tools are different; the social dynamics rhyme. Both depend on culture: how we teach, credit each other, disagree respectfully, and welcome someone who is brand new.

Neither world is uniformly gentle. Both have gatekeeping, speed contests, and corners that feel like an exam. The groups I stay are the ones that treat sharing as default and learning as something we do together in the open. They assume you belong until you prove otherwise, and they let the tenth question matter as much as the first.

Open source is where I practice clarity, patience, and the kind of generosity that only works in public. I try to bring that practice back to every commit. If you also live in both worlds—yarn, code, or another craft—I would love to hear what you have learned from one that changed how you show up in the other. The pattern only gets better when more of us stitch it together.1

  1. I edited this post for grammar and flow using Cursor/Codex.