My brother likes the Kingston Trio song, Streets of Laredo — "We see by our outfits that we are both cowboys, if you get an outfit you can be a cowboy too." Last month, in Wood News Online, Jason Hicban asked, "Am I a Woodworker?" What is it that defines us as woodworkers? Is it our tool outfit or shop apron? A certificate from a formal program? Do you have to go "pro" to be a real woodworker? This question is at the heart of our craft and affects things like the activities we engage in, the accessories we buy, and who feels like they belong in our "club." I can hardly do justice to the topic in a short column but here I offer a few perspectives on the question.

At a very functional level, being a woodworker is defined by having knowledge and skill to create things with wood. Knowledge and skill are a continuum--they grow with every project and our performance gets better and better. The dovetails are tighter, we are more confident in rubbing out the finish, we know when to use a butterfly key or a biscuit. At some point in the learning process, somewhere between novice and beginner, we start to claim the identity of "woodworker." My guess is that it happens when we get to where we can take some credit for the output—when we can say, "I made that."

When I was very young, I made a footstool for my mother. It was an oval-shaped sink cutout that I nailed to four pieces of wood for legs. Mom said it was beautiful and then kindly suggested she could help upholster it. I was a woodworker! There is actually a body of research on the concept of "mindset". Studies have shown that when children have a college savings account opened for them, even a small one, they begin to think of themselves as "college-bound." When Mom praised my footstool my mindset said, "I can be a woodworker."

The question of skill level is different. That is a qualifying word we add to woodworker like beginner or master. In formal systems there is some standard of ability judged by other woodworkers. For most of us however, our skill is judged by friends, families, or our clients. My great-grandfather emigrated from Germany as a teenager. He took work as a farmhand until he could start his own business as a carriage and wagonmaker. He didn't have a certificate or formal training. His credential for being a master woodworker was based entirely on the quality of the work he produced and the judgement of his customers.

Beyond the woodworking skill test, saying you are a woodworker is what psychologists call an "identity claim" — a statement of who you are. The theory of narrative identity says that we form a sense of self and personal identity by combining our life experiences into a story, a narrative, which provides a sense of unity and purpose in life. People that study personality listen to our stories to try and get deeper insights into our selves. For example, my short story is:

"I am a woodworker. I have been making things out of wood for as long as I can remember. My father and my grandfathers were always making things in their shops and I spent hours sitting on shop stools or picking through scrap bins—"Grandpa, can I have this?" I was encouraged along the way. Dad made me a faceplate lathe from a washing machine motor when I was in junior high. I remember in high school that Grandpa Burnham gave me a ratcheting brace saying that "a woodworker ought to have a brace." I have continued to learn more and more about the craft and my projects have gotten more and more complex. One of my recent projects was a set of three tables in the American Empire style, made from walnut. I designed the tables and worked with my brother to complete the commission for the Daughters of the American Revolution."

So a psychologist could take my woodworking "narrative" (or Jason's from last month, or yours) and analyze it to see what it says about who I am. I place a lot of value on family and I talk about how I have a heritage of craftsmanship. My story might sound like I am taking on a family tradition. Jason's story on the other hand talks about how he had to learn his woodworking on his own. His story emphasizes his personal accomplishment in picking up skills by himself. My story usually includes examples of how my identity was confirmed along the way — my mom saying she liked the stool or my grandpa giving me the brace. Jason's story talks about how his wife (and others) have complimented his farmhouse table. In psychology terms that is called "coherence," when external factors confirm or align with our sense of self. Jason's story gives a sense that he finds personal satisfaction in the accomplishment of completing a project through the struggles of figuring it all out (what is called an "overcoming" narrative). My woodworking story suggests my personal satisfaction is found in pursuing higher levels of craftsmanship (a "performance" narrative).

Take a minute and think about how you would describe your own woodworking journey. What does that story tell others about you?

Our narrative identities evolve over time. An early woodworker's story probably includes a lot of examples of learning new things ("exploration"). While someone who has been at the craft for a long time might focus more on telling stories about special projects they made for meaningful people. Elliott Mischler, a developmental psychologist, interviewed craftspeople (see the link to Storylines below) to get a better understanding of the formation of craft identity. Some of his key observations were:

• a) We all have a unique story. Identity formation doesn't follow the same steps for everyone. Some craftspeople grow up surrounded by the craft, others find it later in life, or even accidentally. Some people abandon an identity and move on to find another.
• b) Our work identity (woodworking) is just one part of who we are. It can support our other identities, like being a father, or it can conflict with them. Psychologists like to look at how our different identities connect.
• c) While having a natural talent for something might be consistent with affirming a particular identity, it is not required. Having to work hard at getting tight dovetails is sometimes a more powerful way to find an identity. Our Kansas state motto is — "Ad astra per aspera" (to the stars through difficulty).

When we say we are woodworkers we are making a statement about the "thing" that we do, but we are also making a statement about who we are — our core identity. That really touches on the "why" we make things out of wood. Nearly 2400 years ago the Greek philosopher Plato wrote about finding the meaning of life. In his book Euthydemus, Plato offered a hypothetical question (slightly paraphrased here), "What if a woodworker had all the tools in the Highland Woodworking catalog and a stock of the most beautiful wood, but never made anything from it? Would they be happy?" The obvious answer he was looking for was, of course, "No". Plato went on to ask, "Well then, if they had all the tools, and the best wood, and made things, but did a poor job, would they be happy?" Again, "No." His conclusion was that happiness and meaning in life comes from doing the best you can with what you have.

William Morris, the father of the Arts and Crafts movement, picked up on this same idea in a speech in 1883. "The pleasure which ought to go with the making of every piece of handicraft has for its basis the keen interest which every healthy person takes in life, and consists chiefly of three elements: variety, hope of creation, and the self respect that comes from a sense of usefulness; and that bodily pleasure which goes with the deft exercise of bodily powers. This pleasure in handiwork I claim as the birthright of all workmen."

We are woodworkers. We make things out of wood. Woodworking is a craft where we get to demonstrate the "deft exercise of bodily power" as we cut a line or plane a face. We are woodworkers because we find Morris' joy of labor in the craft. It is who we are.


References: Mischler, E.G. 1999. Storylines: craftartists narratives of identity. Harvard University Press. 208 p.

Morris, W. 1883. Art under plutocracy.

Bob Rummer lives in Lawrence, Kansas and is a part-time woodworker. He can be reached directly via email at rummersohne@gmail.com. You can see his shop and some of his work at www.JRummerSons.com.

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