Some of you may know I have a personal practice in weaving. For the past ten years, I’ve been an apprentice with Kalingafornia Laga. We are a Pilipino-American women’s weaving collective that preserves, promotes, and maintains indigenous backstrap weaving traditions in Kalinga. “Kalingafornia” is a play on words that combines Kalinga and California. Laga is the word for weaving, both as a noun and a verb. Kalinga is a place and a people located in the northern region of the Philippines; it is a storied place of indigenous peoples who have resisted colonial powers throughout all time, and it also has many weaving communities. My teacher, Jenny Bawer Young, is from one of them - from a place called Mabilong, Lubuagan, known as the first weaving barangay in Kalinga.
As a weaver, I’ve often considered the difference between pieces of fabric as art versus product. If I were to be compensated for my craft, would I charge per yardage? Or would I charge per time, material costs, skill, and experience? I understand that this introduces the privilege I have in being able to even question this. Many artisans and weavers around the world don’t have this luxury especially when considering other factors like the tourist economy or the fashion industry. For the weaving communities I’ve come to know, their craft is a way of life - the continuation of their culture, an expression of identity, and a way to connect with tradition and values. But when treated as a product of any kind, the cultural production of textiles becomes impacted for better or worse by capitalist consumption, mis/appropriation, or worse, extraction and exploitation. This makes it very difficult for culture-bearers like weavers to earn a respectable living and give back to the community. This begs another question: do these economies help or harm the artisan and by extension, the community?
In the town where my teacher is from, the weaving community has “faithfully preserved the time-honored cultural expression of traditional artwork as their dignified source of income, livelihood, and employment.” To further quote our website, “To this day, there are very few remaining weaving communities of Kalinga. Young weavers are sustaining…the traditional designs while providing significant access to…demands of cultural appreciation. At this point, however, the usual plight of weavers…remains a continuous struggle…due to lack of market. But above all, the Mabilong weavers believe with dignity and pride that they are poor in the midst of their rich unique cultural artwork—a heritage worth preserving as a legacy for more Kalinga indigenous weavers.”
I’ve heard unfortunate stories of some having to reduce their prices for a competitive tourist economy ultimately causing weavers to lower their bottom line. Fashion brands help, but not much more than employing weavers as part of the supply chain. The good ones pay a sustainable wage; few pay a thriving wage. But when someone from the community leads, they are much more likely to see the opportunities and solutions that will directly improve their lives and immediate environment.
In the diaspora, Kalingafornia Laga members are considered cultural stewards - we as non-Kalinga Pilipinos have been entrusted with the practice, teaching, and educating about Kalinga cultural history through weaving and textiles. As cultural stewards, we understand that we are part of the bridge that connects Kalinga to the diaspora in the US. Everyone in the circle has their favorite way of doing so, from giving presentations to hosting classes or workshops, and everything in between. One of my favorite ways to get our information out there is by tabling at events and marketplaces to sell woven goods from Kalinga artisans. The proceeds we raise from this go almost entirely back to the community in Mabilong.
In years past, that money has been used not only to compensate weavers for their time, materials, skills, and experience, but also to create a shelter for the chegsi, or the communal water supply and washing area, which helps guard against water contamination during floods or storms. We also began a scholarship program that assists youth in their education with the primary purpose of learning the art of laga, preparing the next generation of weavers to continue the practice and promote its value in its original home in Mabilong. Over the years, we have supported 25 youth in their education.
This is all possible because we’re directly connected to the community and understand how weavers and the community in Mabilong could all benefit. We also use a pay structure that ensures weavers are well compensated instead of receiving marginal pay for their labor as compared to, say, the earnings of a designer or brand. Compensation isn’t the only benefit the community sees—by encouraging weaving to be done traditionally, we are also sustaining intergenerational learning, communal gathering, and transmission of rich cultural knowledge and wisdom.
As my teacher, Jenny Bawer Young put it, “The cultural/artistic traditions of Kalinga are called kopya, or way of life, meaning these aren’t created for artistry but as a conveyor to live life fully, unified by common values in community and harmony with the environment.” In a world where so much is off balance, this reminds me that culture is power, and culture is in the hands of the people.