Growing up: Home Economics and Shop Class

When I was growing up, I was fortunate to have experienced home economics and shop class. Both were a standard part of middle school curriculum. I loved both. Well, I loved the sewing part of home-ec, as we called it.

Growing up we didn’t have money to spare for luxury items like the latest (and questionable) fashion fad of platform shoes with multi-colored stripes along the wedge heels. Being the eldest child didn’t help; there were no clothes to share or hand-me-downs. It’s awful when kids make fun of you if you don’t have the ‘latest’ when it is the latest. Home-ec would be the door to help change that situation.

Home Economics 1: Sewing

I loved how the sewing machine worked and discovered that sewing came naturally to me. We began with a red and white gingham aprons for the girls and a sturdy, blue-twill shop apron for the the boys. Each week I looked forward to completing more of my project. I gifted my apron to my mom and in typical mom-style she loved it.

By the time high-school came around, I was attempting more detailed sewing projects using mom’s portable Singer sewing machine. I chose things that were beyond my mastery, but I just kept at it. An eyelet dress, a black jumpsuit, for which I made the pattern and the fit was awful. But I learned and was fortunate to have a grandmother who also loved sewing, specifically hand sewing. She helped the seed to flourish.

I started copying designs from stores and magazines to expand my wardrobe. I never drew anything on paper, just stored them in my head. Like a filing cabinet, every now and then I’d ‘take out’ a design and do a sort of mental review to see what it entailed and decide if I should start a search for fabric, notions etc.

I still use this mental filing cabinet to design and sew when I can find a few minutes here and there to immerse myself in my first love.

Home Economics 2: Cooking

The cooking part of home economics was a huge disappointment: we all were hyped to make a pizza at the end of the semester. There were three, separate kitchen stations with oven, sink and small cook top within the classroom which could accommodate a fairly large group. Turns out, it was all a lie- the pizza was a boxed kit from Chef Boyardee. I remember pestering the teacher with, ” But our box doesn’t have any cheese”, to which I was told, “Yes, it is there, in the little packet.” Cheese in a packet? For Pizza?? She was annoyed with me but but no self-respecting child of Italian American heritage would ever consume an atrocity that called itself pizza and was made with fake, grated cheese! I have to admit, the whole experience did put me off cooking for a few years.

Shop Class

Do kids still even have shop class? What a shame if they don’t, the opportunity to learn important life skills is a considerable loss. At an age, just before high school, when exposure to learned skills can have a positive, lasting impact. We prepare our children for higher education but do we prepare them for life? Life skills are equally important and I don’t really think schools today are doing a good job.

One semester of home economics and one semester of shop class. Needless to say, nearly every boy adored shop class or at least the idea of it. The smell of fresh saw dust and wood, seeing other student projects in varying stages of progress was, at least for me, incredibly cool. Learning that, yes, everyone in the room will be required to design and build their own functional, wooden shelf was just my kind of challenge.

How to use a coping saw

And, once again, back to my earlier approach of getting ahead of my abilities. My shelf was not going to be plain and utilitarian. Nooo, it would have curves and points! A pretty shelf. I’d never heard of a coping saw before but there was Mr. Barella nodding and patiently explaining about using a coping saw with my design. “A bit difficult, but let’s give it a try, ok?” he said firmly with one final nod.

Now, Mr. Barella gave every kid the same unhurried, patient mentoring. He truly enjoyed teaching and seeing the pride on his students faces when we finally mastered how to choose the proper file or a planer and, of course, the coping saw.

Tool room duty

Every week, one of us had to take a turn staffing the tool room. Some of the kids could not wait to do tool room duty. It meant they did not have to work on their project. I hated the tool room. It was a small, narrow closet that had been transformed into a galley with peg-board and hooks on both walls. Tools everywhere. The half-door had a small ledge upon which the incoming and outgoing tools could be placed.

It was awful to stand there, watching the other kids working and me having to keep track of how many tools were out and to whom. I begged to get out of it but Mr. Barella would not relent. He’d patiently explain it was just my turn and next week I’d be back working on my project. This would be followed by a wink, not a creepy wink but ‘I got your back, I understand you, kid’ kind of wink.

I really loved woodworking; how to use the half-round file to shape an inside curve in the shelf or correctly turning the coping saw blade. These things have stayed with me. To this day, I can see the shop room with all of its stations, the tool room and most of all Mr. Barella who helped inspire a young girl to love woodworking.