Forge Forward: Why Inclusion, Ethics, and Opportunity Matter in Blacksmithing

When people talk about making space in STEM for those who've been historically excluded, we all nod. It makes sense. Everyone should have the opportunity to explore science, technology, engineering, and math. Everyone deserves the chance to build, question, solve, and shape the future.

But I want to push that conversation somewhere it doesn't often go. Into the forge.

Because blacksmithing, like STEM, is a field rich with experimentation, problem-solving, science, and skill. It is a space that teaches principles of energy, resistance, force, heat, metallurgy, and transformation. And like STEM, it has been gatekept for too long.

This is my case for why blacksmithing needs to be part of the same movement. Why we need to open the doors wider. Why we need more women, more BIPOC makers, more LGBTQ2+ voices, more curious beginners who never saw themselves holding a hammer but feel drawn to the fire anyway. Why we need to unlearn the idea that some people belong here and some do not.

Because they do.

Because everyone does.

And because the forge is at its strongest when it reflects the full heat and color of the community around it.

Where Blacksmithing Meets STEM

At first glance, blacksmithing might not look like STEM. There is no lab coat. No textbook. No CAD model glowing on a screen. But take a closer look and you will see it.

Blacksmithing is a science of heat and energy. It is metallurgy, thermodynamics, and mechanics in motion. It is a study in material transformation, where you are constantly asking questions, testing limits, recording results, and improving your process.

It is engineering by hand.

When you temper a blade, you are calculating phase changes and molecular behavior. When you draw out a piece of steel, you are balancing tensile strength, stress, and fatigue. When you forge weld, you are managing surface chemistry and precision timing.

The forge is a classroom of physics. Every hammer strike is Newton's third law in action. Every quench is a thermal event. Every finished piece is a living record of process and technique.

This is why the same people we are working to welcome into STEM, young women with curious minds, queer kids with a love of design, racialized youth with questions no one is answering also deserve to find their way to the forge.

Because what they will find here is not just craft. It is scientific insight. It is empowerment. It is access to a powerful form of embodied knowledge that tells them, without a doubt, that they are capable.

Breaking the Mold

Traditionally, blacksmithing has not been viewed as a welcoming space. It has had a reputation for being tough, insular, male-dominated, and even aggressive. The cultural imagery of blacksmiths as big, bearded, flannel-wearing guys swinging massive hammers  has stuck for a reason.

But blacksmithing is so much more than that. And it is time we stop pretending that only one kind of person belongs at the anvil.

Because here is the truth. Some of the best smiths I have ever seen do not look the part. They come in curious, maybe a little unsure, and then they surprise even themselves. They figure it out. They move with precision. They adapt. They listen to the steel.

And they thrive.

It is not about raw strength. It is about intention, rhythm, feel, and the ability to learn. And that is something everyone can do.

The old image of the smith does not need to be burned down. It just needs to be expanded. Because the forge is big enough for everyone.

Ethics in the Fire

To me, inclusion is not a bonus or a gesture. It is an ethical responsibility.

If you run a forge or a school or a studio and you are not actively creating space for those who have been excluded, then you are reinforcing the systems that kept them out.

It is not enough to say "everyone's welcome." You need to show it.

You need to make sure the language you use is accessible. You need to build your space so people of all sizes, backgrounds, and abilities can work comfortably. You need to speak up when someone says something out of line. You need to think about pricing, payment options, and how to support people who want to learn but do not have the funds. You need to ask questions, listen more than you talk, and make it safe for people to be themselves.

Inclusion is active. Not passive.

Creating a safe space in the forge means acknowledging that for some people, stepping into that room is a risk. Maybe they have been told they are not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not tough enough. Maybe they have been ignored, underestimated, or worse.

So when they come into my shop, I take that seriously.

I make sure they know they belong. I let the work speak for itself. I do not water it down, but I do meet people where they are. And I try to create a space where vulnerability is not punished, but respected.

The Forge Is for Breaking Molds

The forge should be a place where people who have been pushed aside are given room to not just participate, but to thrive. A place where they have the agency to take up space fully. To break molds. To bring all of who they are into the fire and find strength in it.

For those who are marginalized, women, BIPOC folks, LGBTQ2+ individuals, people with disabilities, this space can be transformative. But only if it is built with them in mind. Only if it says, from the beginning, you are not just allowed to be here, you are wanted here.

Blacksmithing is physical. But that does not mean it is only for the able-bodied or the strong. Everyone has their own limitations, their own intricacies. That is part of being human. And there are always ways to adapt.

I often say, there is more than one way to skin a cat. In blacksmithing, there is always another approach. A different grip. A modified tool. A slower pace. What matters is that the person is safe, supported, and able to work in a way that suits them.

It also takes trust. The trust to speak up, to ask for help, to name a need. And that trust does not happen on its own. It has to be earned.

It is the instructor’s job to make that space feel safe enough for someone to say, "Hey, I think I need a hand with this," or "Is there another way I can do that part?" It is the instructor’s job to anticipate, to adjust, to welcome.

To be inviting, not intimidating.

I see my role as an ally. Not just a teacher, but someone who is there to prop you up if you need it. To listen. To help you find your own way into the craft. Not to gatekeep, but to guide. Because the forge is not a place for exclusion. It is a place of transformation. And no one should be turned away because they move differently, learn differently, or work differently.

The fire does not care who you are. But I do.

Learning by Doing, Together

The forge is one of the best places I know to learn by doing. It humbles you. It teaches patience. It reminds you that failure is not the end. It is part of the process.

You burn something. You mis-strike. You quench too early. You overcorrect. You break the piece. It sucks. But then you learn. You try again. You adapt.

That lesson is universal.

But for people who have been told they do not belong, failure feels different. It hits harder. One mistake can feel like proof that everyone else was right. That you are not cut out for this. That it is not for you.

Which is why it is so important to reframe failure in inclusive spaces.

Mistakes are not proof you are wrong for the forge. They are proof you are learning. They are a normal part of every craft. And they can be embraced, celebrated, even shared.

When someone breaks a piece in one of my classes, I do not hide it. I hold it up and say, this is what learning looks like. This is good. This is where the magic happens.

We talk a lot about resilience in STEM. About encouraging young people to persist, to question, to keep trying. We need to do the same in blacksmithing.

Because this craft can give people more than a finished tool or blade. It can give them a sense of agency. A feeling of "I did this." A moment of pride they can carry back into the rest of their life.

The Cost of Exclusion

When you exclude people from any field, you lose innovation. You lose voices. You lose questions no one else thought to ask.

Blacksmithing is no different.

By keeping the forge exclusive, we lose the chance to evolve. We miss new techniques, new styles, new materials, and new stories. We miss the creative tension that diversity brings.

And more than that, we rob people of the chance to experience something powerful. To shape hot steel with their own hands. To understand how matter moves and changes. To make something real.

These are not just lessons in metal. They are lessons in self, and everyone deserves access to that.

Inclusion Is Not a Trend

Sometimes, people treat inclusion like a box to check. Like something you do for optics or PR. That is not what I am talking about.

Inclusion is foundational. It makes your business better. It makes your shop stronger. It makes your community richer. It is not about charity. It is about respect.

I have had students from all walks of life. Young and old. Queer and trans. Muslim and Jewish. Neurodivergent folks and people with disabilities. Some walk in with fear. Some with fire. All of them are capable.

And when you give them the tools, the guidance, and the space to learn, they rise. So I will keep building this forge as a place where people feel safe. Where curiosity is welcome. Where identity is not erased, but respected. Where mistakes are part of the story.

Where you can burn it, fix it, and keep going.

Why I Do This

I do this because I believe in the power of the forge.

Not just as a tool, but as a space. A container. A crucible where people come to reshape not only metal, but themselves. I do it because I have seen what it does for people who have been told they do not belong anywhere.

I do it because I believe this craft has a future. But that future depends on who we let in.

I do not want to be the only one doing this. I want to see more forges like this. More schools. More studios. More programs that actively welcome those who have been pushed aside. I want us to do better than just accepting difference. I want us to invite it, celebrate it, and learn from it.

Because when the forge includes everyone, everyone wins.

Steel Is for Everyone

Steel does not care who you are. It responds to heat, to pressure, to time, and to technique. It is democratic in that way.

But access to the forge is not.

That is something we have to fix. So let this be my line in the sand. I will always advocate for inclusion in this craft. I will keep pushing. I will keep making space. I will keep inviting those who were never invited.

Because blacksmithing, like STEM, needs all of us.

And because steel is for everyone.