Article by Sarah Deiss

Skateboarding is a celebration of not following the norms, rules or authority and that should be applied within skateboarding media and organizations as well. Different outlets for skateboarding matter to the community, because not all skateboarding is the same, nor it should it be. Rachel Campbell and many more have taken it upon themselves to change how we gather in skateboarding.

Like many women in skateboarding, Rachel Campbell, who runs Skateburds in Glasgow, Scotland has been quizzed about her true interest in skateboarding. “Can you skate? Can you do this trick? Why do you hang out with all these guys?” Rachel replies from her own experience, “Well, it’s not really why it’s the one female that hangs out with these guys skaters– it’s more why do I not see more girl skateboarders?” 

In the last decade or so, skate collectives, communities and companies have been popping up all over the world for the less represented skaters. Skateburds is one of them, and Rachel has been running it since 2018. 

Rachel discusses the difference between some girls’ journey into the skate scene compared to boys. Documentaries or articles often touch on how skateboarding impacted famous male skateboarders’ lives, going down a hole of obsession the instant they learn how to ollie, and for less represented groups, like girls, do not always fall down that deep love of skating until months or years later into it. 

Rachel explains her experience in high school, “There were only two girls I had seen in Glasgow skating and they were quite older than me, and they weren’t treated any differently. But it was like, if you were a girl, or anyone outside the straight male norm, coming into skateboarding you became ‘one of the boys’ rather than it just being a neutral zone for everybody to be themselves.” This was at Kelvingrove, arguably the busiest skatepark in town, but the two girl skateboarders made Rachel feel like progression was really possible, it was skating right in front of her.

“My pals were all guys, and some would not do their schoolwork or patch a class to go skate and it was blamed on their hormones, while I was kept in because all my teachers were on my back constantly saying, ‘you’re acting out like those boys’ and I would be like, well yeah, so why are you on my back because you’re not on theirs?”

Skating for Rachel felt it came with breaking expectations that she feels have been engraved into girls. It does not break easily or without emotional burdens. “My pals were all guys, and some would not do their schoolwork or patch a class to go skate and it was blamed on their hormones, while I was kept in because all my teachers were on my back constantly saying, ‘you’re acting out like those boys’ and I would be like, well yeah, so why are you on my back because you’re not on theirs?”

Rachel admits, “In high school I was constantly fighting with myself deciding whether I should skate or not because when I don’t skate, people want to hang out with me more and don’t find me embarrassing. When I had my skateboard, less people would talk to me, more people would look me up and down.”

Rachel Campbell

Rachel’s feelings lead her to find Doyenne, then through word of mouth, Skateburds at age 16. At 17 Rachel was running it. “I grew up with this mentality that skateboarders are against the world. Because non-skaters were the ones always being pricks, which pushed me more towards skating once I got over fighting with myself if I should skate or not. I realized the ones that were on me about skateboarding were just people who did not accept me, and I have a community of all skateboarders that like me regardless. I can take the idea I want, what I believe will make a stake community better and see what happens. I just wanted everyone who wants to be involved, to be involved in skateboarding. I wanted for people to see the skateboarding community another way.” 

After starting Skateburds, Rachel often heard ‘I wish I had someone to skate with,’ or ‘I think I would skate more if I had someone to skate with’ so Rachel wanted Skateburds to be a place for anyone, to make it easier to get into skating without having to worry about what could go wrong, because there is space that will welcome you at any level.

“One of the main things I want to do for the skate scene is to make it more accessible for a wider range of people. No matter what starting something new is scary, and I know that if I were about to start another sport, I would be really anxious. I just want to make it easier for people and have someone who will be understanding to how they feel instead of feeling judged for it. I know at the beginning, it was heavily portrayed that Skateburds is only for women, especially in the name, but I’d like for them to see from the posts and the sessions I run that anyone can come. I didn’t start this wanting ‘more girl skaters, less boys.’ I wanted to teach people beyond girls my age who I wanted to be friends with, I want to teach toddlers, kids, old people, parents, queer people, or people who are anxious to start for whatever reason. Even to have people come sit and speak to people who are into skateboarding can get someone involved.”

“It’s about experiencing the skatepark for yourself and taking up the space you deserve. I don’t want there to be a stigma or stereotype that skateparks are cliquey and unwelcoming."

Taken by Rachel Campbell at the Transport Museum Glasgow

It is not a matter of being better than a skate park, it’s about addressing how a lot of girls who come to Skateburds meet up say, ‘I was too anxious to go to the skatepark’ Rachel tells those people, “It’s about experiencing the skatepark for yourself and taking up the space you deserve. I don’t want there to be a stigma or stereotype that skateparks are cliquey and unwelcoming,” Rachel adds, “because less people will not come to the park. But of course, if there are people being horrible, I want the skate scene to deal with that too.”

Rachel Campbell’s drive to influence to get more people to skate triangulates together, from supporting her community centers teaching skate lessons, organizing inclusive skate sesh’s with Skateburds, to helping the people she meets set up boards at her job, a UK wide skate shop, RouteOne. Rachel carries a welcoming, non-judgemental presence throughout Glasgow, building a larger skate community welcoming anyone interested. 

We're switching it up this week with a new format. Quell contributor and co-Founder of Pansy Skate, Shauny Stamm joins Adrian on the podcast for a more intimate episode to talk about mental health and gender identity.

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Theme song: Jupiter by The Marias
Photo by: Ana Joslin

As more countries build skateparks and open skate shops ahead of the 2021 Olympics, we're seeing how skateboarding touches all communities differently. While skateboarding is just an activity for some, in other countries it opens up an entirely new way of life. For many girls in India, skating provides freedom from gender and class norms. Vandana K takes us through the experiences of different skaters and how skateboarding has changed their lives.

Article by Vandana K

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Skate culture began to emerge in India only a decade ago. In 2009, British skater Nick Smith built a skatepark in his backyard in the coastal state of Goa in western India but it was soon shut down. He then built the first commercial skatepark for the sports complex Play Arena in the city of Bangalore in 2011. After a glitchy start and a demolished skatepark, Holystoked, a collective and company of skateboarders built a free skatepark in suburban Bangalore in 2014. The skate scene which started off with a handful of people has expanded to include an estimated 5,000 people and seen the construction of over 17 skateparks across India.

Atita Verghese’s, journey began in 2012 at a skatepark in Bangalore. “In the beginning, I knew only two other girls who were skating but the number has grown since and now I can't keep track. A lot of young girls who are skateboarding in India are really good at it,” she said. Atita, now 27, a formerly sponsored skateboarder and surfer runs the Girl Skate India Instagram page to bring awareness to India's skate scene.

Nani Waii Sonam and Mopi Hailey are “skating friends” from the Himalayan state of Arunachal Pradesh located in north-east of India, a region that is characterized by its remote hilly terrain, largely indigenous population, a history of political instability and lack of development. Many youth from the north-east migrate to big cities in ‘mainland’ India for higher education and employment. They often face harassment because of race, gender and cultural differences.

Nani, 24 is from Papu Nalah, a village close to Itanagar, the capital of Arunachal Pradesh. She belongs to the Nyishi tribe. She clearly remembers the day she took her younger brother’s unused skateboard and went to Benjiloma, a local skatepark she had seen on Instagram. 

“Everyone laughed at me because I had such a small skateboard but I was so excited,” she said. In March 2020, India went under lockdown and Nani who runs a small restaurant had plenty of time, so she “skated like hell, everyday from morning to evening - at the park, sports ground, the highway, whatever place I could find.”

Skateboarding opened new doors for Nani. She was featured in a music video in which she cruised down a hill. “I used to have a small circle. I met a lot of people because of skateboarding. Now I have a lot of friends,” she said. The first customer at Nani’s restaurant after the lockdown was a skateboarder.

Mopi considers herself a beginner skateboarder. The 24-year postgraduate student, who is from the Puroik tribe learnt skating from her boyfriend in 2019. “Skating with friends is very cool and I find it stress relieving,” she said. 

Although the number of skateparks in India is on the rise, finding a spot to skate can be a hurdle in a city, with skaters often using public spaces such as public parks, shopping complexes and metro station exteriors as their playground. Mopi recalls “fights with roller skaters” who didn't want to share the space with skateboarders at the public skating rink in Deer Park in Delhi.

Being a woman in India is tough. But being a woman who comes from a Dalit or indigenous community with a rural and impoverished background compounds the number of challenges one faces when taking up an unconventional sport.

When Shraddha Gaikwad used to sit in the back row of the classroom some years ago, she could not predict that she would be skateboarding one day. Born in the Mang community, the 15-year old was raised in the small town of Parli Vaijnath in Maharashtra, a state in western India. 

The Mang are Dalit, a term used for communities at the lowest rung of the archaic and brutal caste system that is still practiced in India. Shraddha recalls how she and other Dalit students in her school were subjected to a modern form of ‘untouchability’ - they could not stand next to children from upper castes, nor were they allowed to sit in the front of the classroom.

Three years ago, Shraddha and her family migrated to the city of Pune in search of a better life. Her father got a job as a security guard at Decathlon, a major sporting goods store. Shraddha would bring him lunch everyday after she finished school and that was when she first saw a young employee of the store skateboarding. 

“It looked like fun and I wanted to try it out but I was too afraid to ask for help. There was a trial skateboard in the store and I began to teach myself how to use it on the basketball court outside the store,” she said.  The employee saw her skating and realized she was good, so he began to give her free lessons. Today Shraddha is a sponsored skater who competes at events. She is one of the growing number of girls and women who are skateboarding in India.

Asha Gond, 21 is a skateboarder and aspiring rap artist from Janwaar, a village in the central Indian state of Madhya Pradesh. She is from the Gond community. The Gonds are Adivasis, a term used by many indigenous and tribal communities to identify themselves in India. The adivasis have been traditionally relegated to the margins of the society like the Dalits. 

Asha dropped out of school in 9th grade because of her family’s financial difficulties. After Rural Changemakers built a skatepark in her village (Janwaar Castle) she began to skate there. She remembers the shaming she faced from people in her village when she began skateboarding as a teenager. People wrote obscene words about her on the walls of the skatepark. “My relatives would discourage my parents from allowing me to skate by saying things like I needed to learn household chores like other girls and stop hanging out with boys,” she said.  

“If I didn’t skate, I’d be married and have had kids by now. Whatever I am today is because of skateboarding.”
- Asha Gond

But Asha persisted and even convinced her parents to send her on a study abroad program in the UK sponsored by Rural Changemakers. “My mother began to trust me more after I went to London. Now she is the one who stands up to people.” Nowadays Asha studies over 6 hours daily online and with the help of tutors so that she can appear for her 10th grade exams. She is also a co-founder and volunteer at The Barefoot Skateboarders, a young non-profit that encourages kids in her village to skateboard and study. “If I didn’t skate, I’d be married and have had kids by now. Whatever I am today is because of skateboarding,” she said.

Asha is not the only one who managed to escape an early marriage. Shraddha’s voice was choked with emotion as she talked about her teenage girlfriends back in her village. “They have been married off by their parents and also have children,” she said. Shraddha also said that many have been sent to work on sugarcane plantations, known for their extremely exploitative work conditions. 

“I want to be very good at skateboarding so that I can tell the people back home that girls can do everything. Don't marry them so early. They have dreams too,” she said. 

Shraddha’s father lost his job in the lockdown and now runs a coconut water cart. Every weekend, he wraps up his cart and takes her to a few spots in the city where spends afternoons skating with her local crew at Pune Skateboarding. It is far easier to buy a skateboard in India than it was a decade ago but access is still a barrier for those who would like to try out the sport. “Skateboards are expensive. I had to use all my pocketmoney to buy my first board,” said Mopi. A skateboard for adults costs anywhere between 5,000 ($68) to 15,000 rupees ($206). 

There are a few Indian skateboard brands but skate clothing and gear tailored for women’s needs remains missing. Atita recalls requesting the father of one of her students to get protective gear for herself from a trip to Singapore. “The need is there. As more girls skate, women-centric skateboarding brands will emerge in India in the future,” she said.