The line between who is and who is not a skater

I don't get enough exercise.

When Groupon had a deal for knock-off complete Penny boards for $70, I was intrigued. I had never skated in my life, but those candy-colored plastic boards with contrasting wheels looked fun, and if I bought one, then in using it I would be forced to exercise.

I mulled it over for a couple days and ended up buying a Tiger board on Amazon for a mere $50, arguing to myself that if I failed miserably, then I at least didn't spend a lot of money.

That was early March of 2014, just over a year ago. I was super excited when the package arrived. The "Ages 7+" written on the back of the tag made me laugh. I was about to join some "super risky" 7-year-olds out on the streets.

Hailing from Chicago, a skateboard in March was pretty useless. The snow didn't usually melt until just before the moment summer arrived. All I could do was sit in my apartment and watch Youtube videos and learn basics on pushing and foot placement. I'd put the board down and use my hands to "crawl" along the walls, going as far as maybe 10 feet before running into furniture or the adjoining wall. I made it mine by personalizing it Casey Neistat-style, using a soldering iron to melt my name and phone number in the back. I was ready to take it out for a real test run, so I decided to bring it with me to Texas late March, when my friend and I went there for a vacation.

So off we went to the sunny Austin with my board in hand. Long stretches of sidewalk screamed to me, so those were the best starting points. However, my lack of experience allowed the tiniest bump or sidewalk ridge to send me running ahead as the board rolled behind me. My friend joked, "I thought I'd be chasing you around on this thing, but it's more like me watching you chase your board!" Carrying it around called lots of attention. As you may guess, people rarely see girls with skateboards. Real skaters would stop me to chat. They'd ask about the board, ask how it rides, ask me if I could do any tricks. I'd laugh at the idea, as I was just getting to the first step of stage one of beginning to learn to go in a straight line. Austin got me on my board for the first time, so for that I was very thankful.

Back in Chicago, it was still chilly. When the weather got warmer, I began taking the board out. I would ride on sidewalks, but after stopping and grabbing the board every time I neared a corner, I decided I should probably learn how to turn. One Saturday, I took it to the park near me. It had a fountain with a sidewalk circling around it, and sidewalks branching out from the four corners that joined at the fountain circle. I tried riding up one of the branching sidewalks to the center, then attempt to continue around the circle and back down the branching sidewalk I started from, without removing my balance foot from the board. I tried and failed many times, but a couple hours later, after making the loop a few hundred times, I could turn my board, both clockwise and counterclockwise, around the fountain. It was an accomplishment that only I could understand, and I was beaming.

But I still felt out of place. When walking with board in hand to the beach, I felt people's eyes on me, guessing what they were thinking. "She's only carrying that board to look cool." "Why isn't she riding the board right now if she's a true skater?"  I'll admit I've never thought that once when I have seen a girl or boy carrying a board.

Or I'd actually hear the real sexist comments, with my head filling in the responses:
"Would you look at that!" Yes, a girl on a skateboard, what a wacky idea!
"Be careful!" Would you say that to a 26-year-old male carrying a skateboard? I bet not. 

While out one day, I saw a little girl, maybe 6 years old, in front of her apartment building with a skateboard. No brother was around; this was her board. It made me so happy.  I wanted to tell her to forever ignore stupid comments about her gender and a "risky" sport. I wanted to tell her to get scraped up because she deserves those red badges of courage as much as the boys do. I wanted to tell her that she should stick with it because those without adventure in their lives don't have stories to tell. But I held my tongue.

More recently I was riding along the lake but picked up my board to walk over a particularly badly-cracked stretch of pavement. Soon the smooth road was in front of me, and at that moment I spotted two guys around my age walking in the opposite direction on the path. One had a board, saw me and threw it down and rode forward. As they approached, the skater said "throw it down!" with an encouraging nod. I smiled and said "no," even though without their presence I would have thrown it down, as the pavement was smooth again. They passed by and I immediately processed a hundred thoughts. Was I afraid of making an idiot of myself? Most definitely. Why was I so scared to put the board down? I know how to ride a straight line on a path, so that isn't the issue. No, it was a feeling that there was a line. There were all the experienced skateboarders in the world, and then there was me. I was not one of them, so I always drew an invisible line between us.

Since having my board, I've done my research. I watch Youtube videos and read blogs and look at diagrams and can point out every part of a board. Even if I didn't know how to do tricks, I knew I needed a board with tight trucks to do so. I've never bombed any hills, but I did know why my wheels wobbled and that I'd need harder bushings or a longer board to withstand that kind of speed. I even knew the type of stance I'd need to ride high-speeds, even if I am years away from trying that. I had a recent conversation with my dad, a non-skater, which was me mostly spewing out technical jargon while he stared at me blankly and nodded. "You sure do know your stuff."

But today was a turning point for me. After replacing the bearings in my board, I wanted to be sure I installed them correctly before taking the board with me on a trip. It seemed to ride fine, but who knows what I could have missed. I took it to my local skate shop and the employee was happy to check for me. She gave the wheels a wiggle and told me I could loosen the bolts just a half turn, which she did for me, then she took one wheel off and put it in some sort of press to be sure they were in the wheel as far as they could go. But after the wiggling and turning and spinning, she said "these look fine to me!" All I did was watch a Youtube video on how to install bearings.

I then asked if they carried small pivot cups for Penny boards, since mine were both cracked. She unscrewed the truck from the board, and she shook her head and said it was unlikely, but dug through some drawers anyway. She came up empty-handed but was happy to order some. I told her I'd just get some online. She put the truck back on the board, then put it on the ground to test that they were on all the way. As she bounced on it she asked "do you tic tac to turn?" I knew what that was, but I laughed at the experience it required from me and said I was just a beginner. She said the bad pivot cups would be fine to ride on then, but I'd need to replace them soon.

On my way home I stopped by another skate shop that's much smaller, and overheard an exchange. The 20ish-year-old male customer was purchasing some new Kryptonic wheels for his board. I was familiar with the name; although I didn't have those wheels, I knew they didn't take standard bearings for some reason. The customer said to the 20ish-year-old male employee, "Can you show a guy who doesn't know much about this sorta stuff how to put on his wheels?" The employee was happy to help. I glanced in the display case for a bit, then I butted in during the transaction to ask if they carried Penny board pivot cups, or just smaller-than-standard pivot cups. The employee said, "I don't really know what those are, so if they're not in that case, then we probably don't have them."

Although I left empty-handed, I left with a smile on my face.  I know more than these dudes, and one works in a skate shop! I don't know as much as the girl from the first shop, but that's just fine. I know how to skate in a straight line and do turns and get some exercise in the process, which is really all I need. I enjoy skating, and I enjoy learning about it. I loved using my T-tool and getting my hands greasy when I replaced my bearings. This is a fun new hobby that's making me meet new people and find new things to talk about and learn about.



I'd just realized that the invisible line is just that: invisible.

Career vs. Job

I was reading an article on the Matadornetwork.com website about racism in Moscow, (http://matadorabroad.com/should-people-of-color-go-to-russia/) and the author's bio intrigued me.


It says:

In 1992, the guidance counselor at Buster's high school distributed forms to students so they could indicate preferences for Career Day. Buster refused to take part, declaring to the principal, "I don't want a career. The point of education shouldn't be job placement." He has spent the past 17 years avoiding anything resembling a career. He's collected money from the federal government to learn obscure languages of the Caspian littoral. He's taken money to do drugs before being loaded into an MRI machine. He has read over 1,000 surveys filled out by women with breast implants. He's now in 23rd grade and spends most of his time reading library books and begging for money from various institutes, foundations and societies. He still hasn't given in.


This really made me think. That is a very good point the author makes, about education perceived as a means to an end, the end being a career. And I think other generations before us have always seen it as that way: you go to school to go to college to get a job to support your family.

Times have changed.

In one of my communications classes a few years ago, the professor was describing characteristics of our generation. Due to our exposure to technology and the internet, we (our generation) multi-task a ton, and almost can't get by without doing so.

Another characteristic that is new and different from our generation compared to others is that we now look for jobs for pleasure rather than paycheck. Our parents or even their parents used to look for a career to be able to pay for having a family and luxuries or day-to-day needs. They maybe even hated their jobs, but it didn't matter because they had a family to feed. Now, we care about ourselves even more and cannot dedicate our time and efforts into something that doesn't provide us with happiness. We want to do something we like.

Evidence of this is our generation's more "job" oriented idea of work as opposed to "career." Someone working with my dad (a man in his late 20s) had once said that this was definitely not his career. It was his job.

My aunt tells us, frustratingly, that she has to job-train so often with this new crop of people entering the workforce because they come and go once they find something better. No longer are they settling for their first job--they are constantly on a quest to do something better.

Perhaps that is why careerbuilder.com is so successful. If you are unfamiliar, this job-finding website sets itself apart in its advertising campaign by clarifying that they are not for those searching for a new job, but for those wanting to build their resume, and potentially might quit from their new jobs once they find something more fulfilling.


Obviously I am interested in this job vs. career discussion because I do fall into that generation that seeks more. But also, as a recent college graduate, I am looking for a job. Not a career, but a job. I need money and experience at this stage in my life, but I am definitely not looking to do some of these jobs for my entire life. At my grad party, every guest asked me "what do you plan to do eventually" or "what is your ultimate dream career?" There were those who responded to my answer with "that's okay that you don't know, you have time to think" but there were also those who responded with "you better go to grad school to figure that out."

I don't have to figure anything out. I don't care if I don't know what I want yet. I can get a job to collect some money first, and find interests later. I will always love math and writing. I will always love acting goofy while working with kids but also being taken seriously. I want to own a little shop of something, I don't know, maybe antiques, but I hate customer service. I like cooking but don't like dealing with picky customers.

I will do what I want. Right now, that is applying for every job I am qualified for, even if it may not be my future career.