The Best Part Wasn't the Spatula

When Todd signed us up for a spatula carving class, I thought I was going to spend an afternoon learning how to carve a kitchen utensil.

I did.

Kind of.

But the spatula ended up being the least interesting part of the day.

One of the first things I noticed when we walked into the classroom was that it was filled mostly with women. Years ago, many of the outdoor and bushcraft classes I attended were predominantly men. Whether that's because more women are discovering these hobbies, more opportunities exist, or people simply feel more welcome, I don't know. What I do know is that it made me smile.

We've taken classes with this instructor before, so the room felt familiar. Todd immediately jumped in to help set up. Before long he was sharpening knives, helping wherever he was needed, and the instructor greeted us with a big hug and a "Welcome back!"

Everyone else was still milling around, quietly waiting for class to begin. I grabbed a name tag, wrote "Heather" on it, and stuck it on my shirt. It seems like such a small thing, but I've learned that wearing your name makes it easier for someone to start a conversation. Sometimes community begins with something that simple.

As the class got underway, I realized just how many people were picking up these skills for the very first time. While I waited for my turn with the hatchet, I watched everyone else work. One young woman was trying to split a small piece of wood while holding it with her fingers just inches from where the hatchet was about to land. I hurried over and asked if she'd mind if I shared a couple of tips. She smiled and gladly accepted.

It reminded me that things Todd and I do without thinking have taken years to learn. Skills that feel ordinary to us are completely new to someone else, and that's okay. We all start somewhere.

One of my favorite parts of taking classes isn't just learning a new skill. It's watching how other people teach.

I love seeing the different ways instructors explain things and how students respond. Whenever I see a teaching method that really clicks with people, I quietly tuck it away in my own knowledge bank. Since I enjoy teaching and sharing what I've learned, every class gives me two opportunities to learn: the skill itself and how to help someone else discover it someday.

The class lasted five hours. Before it started, I honestly wondered how anyone could spend five hours carving a spatula. It turns out it's surprisingly easy.

The hours flew by.

What didn't fly by were my hands.

I spend every day making gear, so I figured my hands were in pretty good shape. Apparently, swinging a hatchet and carving with a knife use a completely different set of muscles. By the end of the day, my hands were letting me know they had worked just as hard as the rest of me.

But the most memorable part of the day happened when the carving started.

As we all sat around talking, I struck up a conversation with a woman who had brought her daughter to the class as a birthday gift. She shared that she was planning a two week expedition to a place I had never even heard of. Before long, another woman across the room lit up and said she had been researching that same destination and had always wanted to go.

That led to another conversation.

She shared that she taught preschool.

The first woman mentioned she worked at a university.

Then another student smiled and said she was currently attending that very university.

One simple conversation had connected three people who had walked into the room as complete strangers.

That moment made me smile.

Sometimes all it takes is one person saying hello for everyone to realize how connected our lives really are.

At the end of the day, we all held up our finished projects.

Some people had carved beautiful spatulas you could proudly display in your kitchen.

Some had perfectly recognizable spatulas that just needed a little sanding.

Then there was mine.

Mine was a little crooked, a little too thick, and not quite ready to officially earn the title of "spatula."

It still needed some work.

But I was proud of it.

Not because it was perfect.

Because I tried.

Will I become a dedicated spatula carver?

Probably not.

My hands have already voted against that idea.

But will I keep signing up for classes that intrigue me?

Absolutely.

Not because I want to become an expert at everything.

Because learning is fun.

Because every class introduces me to people I never would have met.

Because every new skill reminds me what it feels like to be a beginner again.

And because I almost always leave carrying something much more valuable than the project in my hands.

So if there's a class you've been thinking about taking, or a skill you've always been curious to learn, consider this your gentle nudge.

Be brave enough to try something new.

Not because you want to master it.

Not because you need another hobby.

Simply because learning has a wonderful way of introducing us to new skills, new friends, and sometimes even a new way of looking at the world.

You might come home with a crooked spatula.

But I have a feeling you'll leave with something even better.

Learn More

Interested in taking a class?

This class was taught by Northwest Natura, a woman-owned outdoor education company based in Bellingham, Washington, founded by botanist and naturalist Jazmen Yoder. Northwest Natura offers hands-on classes in botany, fungi, ecology, bushcraft, basketry, firecraft, wildlife tracking, and many other outdoor skills throughout the Salish Sea region.

One of the things I appreciated most was the welcoming environment. Whether you've spent years outdoors or you're picking up a hatchet for the very first time, you'll find yourself surrounded by people who simply enjoy learning together.

If you're local to the Pacific Northwest and have been looking for a reason to try something new, I highly recommend checking out their upcoming classes.