Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Shoved to Them

Home
Catholic
Those $#*&@ Skater Kids

Those $#*&@ Skater Kids

Last updated on: May 20, 2015 at 1:17 pm by Rebecca Frech

Those $#*&@ Skater Kids 2015-05-20T13:17:42-05:00 Rebecca Frech

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

The first time we went to the skate park on a non- WCMX night, I began to have a few reservations about Ella’s “sport of choice.” The foul-mouthed cigarette smoking punks were not the peer group I would have chosen for my sweet ballerina.

That first time when she was the only kid in a chair, she was stared at and I was ignored. The second time, they watched what she was doing and gave her some space.

The game changed when they saw her drop in on the quarter pipe. (Dropping in is hard enough on a skate board. It’s terrifying to learn in a wheelchair – it’s a blind drop down a steep ramp.) That was the first time we heard the “skater clap” as they banged their boards against the ramps in appreciation, and she learned what it was to have earned their respect. In their eyes, she was no longer just the “kid in the wheelchair,” she had mastered one of their advanced skills and really was one of them.

Trips to the skate park have become a regular part of our lives. Ella in her new daily/skate chair hybrid, and the other kids on scooters, bikes, and skateboards. We try to go early so that we’re gone before the more experienced skaters show up. Not because they don’t want us there, but because the 3 and 5 year-olds can get in their way and we’re trying to be kind. (Okay, it’s also that they don’t want the littlest kids on the ramps, but I’m okay with that.)

I’m no longer ignored as I take pictures and chase the littlest ones. I’m “Mom.” They all call me that (even the ones in their 20s.) I’m hugged and greeted, even at the grocery store, by these rough talking kids. I scold them about their language and nag them about the smoking, and they blush and apologize. They hand me their phones beg me to take photos and videos of their latest stunts. They show off for me and grin when I clap. I’ve lost track of the sighed comments “I wish my mom would come so I could show her what I can do. She just drops me off, and then comes back later to pick me up.”

I’ve learned that this motley crew of the “not cool kids” (as they all label themselves) have such incredibly big hearts. I sit on the sidelines and watch them share freely of their talents and skills, teaching and reteaching the less experienced kids not just their insane tricks, but also how to do them as safely as possible. There are other kids at the park with physical limitations who have also been absorbed into this sub-culture that revolves around ramps and wheels.They don’t offer any excuses – which is good because no one would accept them. It’s a come-you-are and do-your-own-thing world, and I get to watch it all go down, very often the only parent in sight.

These kids I was once so unsure of are so incredibly great. They may not look like the Gap-ad clean-cut picture of Americana that I’d hoped for as my kids friends, but I’m learning that appearances really are meaningless. I watch my daughter, who the rest of the world looks at as disabled, rolling along beside them and realize that they stopped seeing her differences weeks ago. They’re more impressed that she’s a girl at the skate park than they are by the wheelchair.

Last week I heard a newcomer say as we rolled through the gate, “Aw man…that’s so cool that that little wheelchair kid is like trying to live a normal life…” only to hear a regular cut him off, “Hey, don’t talk that way about her. It p*sses her off. Admire her awesomeness. She doesn’t want your pity.”

That was when I decided to start bringing cookies.

(Those aren’t my cookies. I don’t usually take pictures of food. I just don’t think of it. Photo By Heather [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)

Previous Post

May 18, 2015

Knitting Hats for Fetus Dolls - What's Wrong with Youth Group

Next Post

May 20, 2015 Skateboards, Afghan Girls, and Freedom

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

True or False: Joseph's brothers sold him to traders for thirty pieces of silver.

Select your answer to see how you score.

TRUE FALSE