Patryc Wiggins’ role in producing several large-scale community arts and education projects led to her appointment as Director of the Economic Corporation of Newport, a position she held for 4è years. Currently, she leads the Guild Institute, a non-profit organization she founded to promote precision manufacturing and advanced engineering in the region. The following is an edited interview.
I had my first child when I was 17 and I was the first pregnant teen in Newport to stay in school. I wouldn't accept being expelled; I simply refused to leave. I'd always had the sense I was on the margins but this was my first encounter with an issue worth fighting for.
I thought, “Oh, this is how my life is going to take shape,” and I just stood my ground. So from the time I was quite young, I’ve been very aware of social injustice. I felt in very visceral ways that life here in Guild, which is the industrial section of Newport, is a microcosm of the larger experience of America.
Class is a core inequity that says so much about the country; it pervades everything including race. It’s deliberately overlooked because it’s such a delicate issue. But how do you do something about it? How do you make your life not a travesty and actually do something about the inequality around you?
When I started initially with my tapestry project, I thought, “Now I’ve actually got a lever here.” I was interested in using the arts to critique, celebrate and educate a place, a people, and a culture. I thought, “Okay, I’m going to take this tapestry and use it as a catalyst for change.”
The subject matter was the toughest part. The reaction was, “Why this industrial experience? Who wants to know about that?” People said, “You’re talking about something backwards, Patryc. It’s gone by. And if it’s not gone by, it’s going to go.”
People pulling the strings at the upper level of society have their own picture of the region. They’re saying, “Let’s make a living by helping the rich vacation here.” I’m saying they’re wrong. These are the roots of my family. I’ve belonged to industry from the get-go, here in Sullivan County, the second poorest county in the state.
I haven’t woven for three years. There’s been this tendency to want me to be just this tapestry weaver, to get the damn thing done and not talk about the issues. Like, “Why are you doing all this other stuff?” But finishing the tapestry has never been the goal.
Yes, I’ll finish it. But the end for me is not the completion of the tapestry; it is the transformation of the community into a more equitable place with a high quality of life for everybody.
I never expected it was going to be easy. I just made a commitment to myself that I’d keep dealing with these issues until I have absolutely no options left.