♫♪ A Song Explores How Quiet Activism is Helping Foster Progress in Dire Situations

Nearly done. Nothing is quiet about knitting or cooking these days

So I’ve got the structure nailed down for my song Nothing is Quiet These Days, honoring those among us building a better society through activities that are normally in the background.

As you may have heard in the early draft below, the song (also on YouTube) is an ode to the hat knitters of Minneapolis and beyond whose “craftivism” raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for nonprofits defending migrants’ rights in and around that Trump-targeted city. (See KARE-11’s local news report: A Wednesday night stitch-a-long at Needle and Skein in St. Louis Park led to an idea that’s raised more than $700,000 for Minnesotans affected by ICE operations.)

See the story

It’s also written to honor and support the world-spanning dangerous work of World Central Kitchen, launched by master chef and restaurateur José Andrés after his initial humanitarian cooking work following the devastating earthquake in Haiti in 2010. Read about his Ukraine efforts in this post on Longer Tables with José Andrés: A difficult anniversary—and a moment to remember Ukraine. Learn the latest on the organization’s cost-driven reduction in meal distributions in Gaza on their website here.

Here are the lyrics. There may still be some edits. A knitting friend isn’t happy with the phrase “needles weaving.” What do you think? I may return to “needles clicking” but not quite yet.

Nothing is Quiet These Days

© 2026 Andy Revkin

Knitting is quiet, even serene - Small talk and tea cups and needles weaving.

Counting up stitches, unballing yarn. Wool becomes sweaters to keep loved ones warm.

But nothing is quiet ‘bout knitting these days. Thanks to hat makers with something to say.

In cold Minnesota, a knitting brigade made red wool a shield to keep immigrants safe. Red-capped resistors when ICE agents swarmed. Wore hats from a pattern passed down from a war.

Those caps got their start back in snowy Norway. A symbol of freedom from Nazis and hate,

I said nothing is quiet ‘bout knitting these days. Thanks to hat makers with something to say.

Cooking is quiet as stirring a pot, peeling potatoes, keeping soup hot.

Turning meat into stew, turning wheat into bread. Dishing it out to keep everyone fed.

But nothing is quiet ‘bout cooking these days. Thanks to a kind-hearted chef named José.

From Haiti to Congo, Beirut to Turkey, his World Central Kitchen serves hot meals for free.

Under bombardment, teams cook beans and grain. Seven killed in Gaza, six more in Ukraine. [I’m doublechecking these numbers.]

But still they cook on, fighting famine and fear. Try to support them with more than a cheer.

Nothing is quiet ‘bout cooking these days, thanks to a kind-hearted chef named José.

Silence is deadly in this day and age. Raise up your voices with love and not rage.

But singing alone will not fix what is wrong.

Start knitting and cooking,

Reaching and teaching,

Marching and voting,

To get the job done. [2 x]

Nothing is quiet about living these days….

Songs are journeys

Here’s the initial draft of Nothing is Quiet These days, which grew out of a prompt — “write a song about an object” — from the Maine songwriter Amy Love when she led one of the songcrafting workshops this spring at Bagaduce Music, Downeast Maine’s prime hub for musical education and a world-class library of printed music:

Please also listen to or buy my new album, Wake Me up Martha:

When Reporting Gives Way to Singing

And read my post on craftivism here:

This summer I’m planning to do live ensemble recordings of some my favorite songs from my new album, and songs like this one that I haven’t released yet, with some fabulous Maine musicians. If you want to chip in, here’s where to do so (I’ll match every dollar you donate):

I produce Sustain What and my music mainly out of passion. But your support and subscriptions help.