skateboarding & me
Sports have always been difficult for me.
Actions I’ve struggled with include throwing, catching, kicking, shooting, serving, volleying, dribbling, hitting, smashing, pitching, batting…
I dreaded P.E. class. But so long as I did well in English, social studies, science, even art and music, my parents were happy. That doesn’t mean I was, though. I’ve only had one C+ in my life and that was Grade 5 P.E. For a kid who pressured herself a little too much in school, that C+ was devastating. It still kinda hurts, to be honest.
In Canada, sports are cool. If you were good at sports, you were a cool kid who brought glory to your team, your school, your town. If you were a nerdy kid who got good grades…well, good for you, I guess.
What I hate about P.E. class is if you suck, the whole class can see that you suck. Like, if you do bad on a math test no one has to know except you, your parents, and your teacher. And that sucks too, I guess, but when you’re a kid, the approval of your peers is everything.
One of my sharpest memories was an archery class—I couldn’t get my arrows ONTO the target, never mind the bull’s eye. While my classmates scored points in the 40s, 50s, and 60s, I got a 2. A fucking 2. And this was after having taken some archery classes at a local archery centre.
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You’re probably expecting this story to take a turn now. That maybe I sucked at all sports and then found one—skateboarding—that clicked for me and that I’m somehow prodigious at it.
Well, this isn’t that kind of story.
I first got into skateboarding when I was around 13. This was during the longboarding craze of the late 2000s and early 2010s. I grew up on the University of British Columbia campus, so seeing Millennial students appear to float by on a long plank of soft wheels was a common memory in my high school years.
My friend Cherrie was a fellow tomboy with the coolest toys. (She’s cool as fuck and would go on to ride free skates and a unicycle.) I somehow ended up messing around with her Sector 9 board, and while I don’t remember a particular moment when I fell in love or something, soon I was saving up for my own board.
I liked taking artsy photos of my longboard, apparently. Circa 2012.
I got an Original Apex 37. It had spring-loaded trucks that made turning sidewalk corners a breeze, and it was a twin tail, which meant you could do manuals and shove-its. I rode that thing enough to justify my skinny jeans and Vans shoes, I think, but I was an obnoxiously overachieving high schooler who spent 3 hours a day practicing piano. That amounted to only precious weekends here and there of skating. In all the time I longboarded, I only really mastered two tricks: the cross-step and the tiger claw. I did a nollie shove-it once, but I landed on my ass and could never do it again.
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Each year in high school we got to go to Whistler. By Grade 10, I was totally enraptured by board sport culture. So that year, I took a snowboarding lesson instead of my usual novice ski group. I had taken ski lessons as a kid and never liked it much (I had a traumatic incident in which I crashed into a tow rope station because I didn’t know to let go of the rope). Snowboarding just made sense.
Anyone who has tried snowboarding knows that the time is brutal. You’re on your ass or your knees or your wrists all the time. But somehow, miraculously, I linked two turns on my very first day. I may have even been the only kid to have done it… It was a moment I remember with extreme lucidity. I went heelside, toeside, and then my instructor at the top of the hill and my classmates were cheering.
Thus began an absolute obsession with snowboarding. I had finished my piano diploma by then, so I had more time. And strangely, my parents were more supportive of my snowboarding than longboarding. The price tag was way higher, but they still drove me to the mountain on Sunday mornings. I’d ride for a few hours while they bought groceries and did errands, then we’d eat lunch at Denny’s.
Learned to ride boxes around the time Instagram filters became a thing.
Those were incredible memories. Back then, season’s passes for kids were extremely cheap. But it was still money, still time, and I can’t thank my parents enough for letting me indulge in my very dangerous addiction. My dad had mentioned once that it’s good that I know this stuff, because “this is what Canadians do.” I think he meant social capital—the more “Canadian” I was, the more successful I would be in mainstream Canadian society, I guess. This is the kind of thing immigrant parents think about.
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Skateboarding has always had a counter-cultural, anti-establishment edge. “Bad” kids skateboard. Skaters hang out on the streets, smoke weed, do property damage, and get in the way of rule-abiding motorists. And despite being the type of teenager who listened to heavy metal, who wanted desperately to be cool, skateboarding’s bad-boy image (not to mention the boys—bad or not—who dominate it) scared me from trying as a teen. That’s why I didn’t step on my first proper, popsicle-shaped skateboard (the type meant for ollies, grinds, slides, and flips) until I was around 20 years old.
Cherrie and I had gone off to different universities but she was in town to visit. We were walking down the street when I saw an advertisement for $99 completes. On impulse, I ended up with a 7.75 shop deck with an Andy Warhol soup can graphic, black and yellow checkerboard trucks, tiny wheels, and a send-off from the shop dude to “have fun.”
Left: My first popsicle board from Skull Skates. Right: Current set-up.
I spent the next three months trying to figure out how to ollie with my snowboarding friends. First, I did it on grass. Then, I did it on the edge of the grass and sidewalk so that my tail would hit the concrete and pop me higher. I’m not sure if I quite figured it out. I maybe got my back wheels an inch off the ground at most. Three months later, my friends and I lost interest and my skateboard was relegated to the garage.
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Fast forward to 2022, the worst year of my life.
My mother died that April. She was my favourite person and the reason I’m a writer. I won’t go into it much because I still can’t really talk about my mom without crying (#Pisces), but let’s just say I was in a very dark place.
I had landed a book deal with Annick Press for Crash Landing the year before. I was going to publish a book about queer skater girls! I was stoked, but I also had a fat dollop of imposter syndrome. I was writing a book about skateboarding, but it had been years since I’d skated
So, I got back onto my board, just to remember how it feels to ride around.
Riding around felt good, but I found myself hungry for more. And I was learning more through my research that community was a huge part of skateboarding.
But I was scared. The thought of showing up at the skate park as an almost-30-year-old who had gained 15 pounds over the pandemic seemed impossible.
Yet I was lucky, because the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Skateboarding was experiencing a resurgence, especially among women and queer folks. When I found a local group for adult beginners (shoutout @latebloomersskateclub) and started showing up to sessions, I was surprised—but also not really—that skateboarding was full of people like me: women, femmes, queers, enbies… When I longboarded in high school, it was just me and Cherrie. Now I see girls skating all the time.
I went to more meet-ups, and when I eventually developed the bravery, I went to skate parks on my own. Soon I began to recognize the regulars, and the regulars began to recognize me. I went to Stop Drop and Roll, my first ever athletic competition—and I walked away with 3rd in the beginner’s division! (Pics here if you don’t believe me.)
I began to feel part of a community. The skate park has become my Third Place, and skateboarding, my antidepressant. Even my therapist saw the benefits skateboarding was having on my mental health and encouraged me to do it more.
Never figured out shove-its as a teenager...finally did a few months shy of 30.
I’m not a very good skater. I can’t kickflip yet and I still get psyched out by drop-ins. But fakie shove-its feel soooo good and when I ollie over a crack, it feels like I’m flying. I suck, but unlike P.E. and tae kwon do class, I don’t feel shitty about it.
Something that might surprise people is just how supportive skaters are. Even if you slam—actually, especially if you slam—skaters will bang their boards in applause. Because real skaters know that skateboarding is about having fun. It’s about The Stoke—something that’s hard to describe, but when you feel it, you know it.
There’s something special about skateboarding and I’m still not quite sure what it is. It draws people who crave adventure and novelty, but it also draws people who have experienced trauma, who are under-represented in mainstream society, art, and sport. Who are on the margins of society.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I fell in love with skateboarding as the person I am. And I can see people reading the lists of characteristics about and rolling their eyes: here goes another Woke liberal, identifying herself as a victim.
But when you skate, you’re not a victim. You’re the conqueror: of an obstacle, of the board, of your fears. All skaters know that skateboarding is 90% mental. The ability to drop in is less about physical finesse and more about overcoming that wall in your brain with giant graffiti letters spraypainted on it: “YOU CAN’T.” It’s a “fuck you” to that “you can’t.”
Unlike most mainstream sports, skateboarding has an artistic, expressive element. When you become a skater, you start to see the world a different way. Those aren’t just parking blocks, ditches, and handrails. They’re things to boardslide, kickflip, and grind on.
Skateboarding has its downsides—I’m so bruised a photo of my knees needs an NSFW tag—but the positives far outweigh the negs. In an era when everyone’s glued to a screen, it’s an escape back to an era when people went outside to do three-dimensional things with three-dimensional people. It’s social, it’s artistic, and it’s accepting. Every time I end a skate session I have a huge smile plastered across my face. It’s kinda funny—when I was a kid, a “good kid” stayed at home and read books. If I had a kid today, I’d tell them good kids don’t stare at screens all day but go outside and play!
Who would have thought that a humble plank of wood on wheels could save my life, but I’m dead-honest when I say it has. I’m 30 years old and the fittest I’ve ever been; my wish is to skate for as long as I can. I don’t need to go pro, but I do want to kickflip.
And I hope you try skateboarding too. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
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I’ll end this post with a smattering of my favorite skate videos over the years.
Leticia Bufoni’s “Children of the Revolution” Part
I watched this part on repeat as a kid. 15-year-old Brazillian wunderkind Leticia Bufoni showed me that skating can be rad.
Vanessa Torres “This Is My Element” Part
Vanessa Torres was one of my favourite female skaters growing up and she’s still doing sick stuff today. In fact I think her style has only gotten better!
Loaded Longboards – “Whirling Dervish”
This is an old longboarding video that has inspired tons of people to ride. The guys do some sick tricks, but they also just…ride. And they look so good and have so much fun just doing that!
Jerry Hsu “Bag of Suck” Part
This is probably one of the best skateboarding parts of all time. The music, the tricks, the vibes… Plus, watch Jerry’s Epicly Later’d episode. His parents are awesome and bust some Asian stereotypes.
“Maximum Flow”
I found this one recently and it stars female skaters that are big in the scene right now. I just love the vibes here. This is what skateboarding’s all about.
Coconut Records “West Coast” (Music Video)
Technically a music video, not a skate part, but I love the flow in this one. Gonzo is so wonderfully weird and he proves that sometimes, skating is more art than sport.
