:: Fall 2007::Everyday ActionsSkater Girltext Teena Apeles photo Giuliana Maresca
My sister and I used to skateboard when we were barely into grade school. I never thought twice before getting on my little board then—no hesitation, no fear. It’s crazy to think that my parents didn’t have any qualms about us—Tricia, eight, me, seven—zipping down our street with no helmets or pads. The following year, a more ladylike sport, ice skating, caught our interest and we entered a different skater-girl era. Skateboarding didn’t attract me again until I developed crushes on skater punks during my early teens; but instead of being the active participant I used to be, I was a mere spectator. All the girls, including my friends, just made goo-goo eyes to the boys as they did tricks and hit the pavement. In the last few years I saw and read about growing numbers of girls and women (mothers, even) skateboarding, but I couldn’t get up the courage to do it. I thought, I’d look stupid, it’s too late for me, blah, blah, excuses. Then, a couple of months ago, while watching my nine-year-old nephew, Noah, skate, I decided to kick him off the board. A return to my roots. “I could do this,” I told him. It had been almost two decades since I’d really tried. “Okay, Tita Teena,” he responded, “I can help you.” Sweet kid. And then I just went for it. I put my left foot on the board, pushed with my right, and glided down a whole block with Noah screaming “woo hoo!” as he ran behind me. It was official, I’d caught the fever. I skated every day for some three weeks, skating farther and farther each time, with my dog, Pogi, running by my side. Soon enough I was able to skate with Pogi from my home to the park—more than a mile. One afternoon on our park jaunt, we were waiting at a traffic light to cross the street when I saw some tough-looking guys, probably in their late teens or early twenties, pull up to the intersection in an equally surly old sedan blasting rap music. The light signaled for us to cross. I heard them turn down the music and saw them roll down their windows, checking me out as I walked past their car with my board and dog. I thought, Oh great, they’re gonna laugh at me. “Hey!” the driver called out to me, smiling as I reached the sidewalk. Here it comes. “Can you pop any wheelies on your board?” Surprise, surprise. My bad—but didn’t he mean ollies? “No,” I said back. “I’m just learning.” “Yeah, man,” he said. “Me, too. It’s hard!” “Totally,” I replied. (That’s my cool skate-girl talk.) “Good luck with it.” “You, too,” were his parting words. He and his friend waved their hands out the windows to me as they drove off. I watched their car disappear into the distance then I got on my board, looked down at Pogi and said, “People are amazing, aren’t they?” We headed home down the long stretch of sidewalk and I could not stop smiling.
© 2007 make/shift |