Chicago collective FroSkate is making skateboarding more inclusive by building a safe and supportive community for nontraditional skaters. From Mission’s BIPOC issue.
Nearly every North American city, from small towns to major metropolitan areas, has some form of skateboarding community. The sport has become a common pastime for teens, its popularity increasing thanks to both the free time provided by the pandemic and skateboarding’s Olympic debut at the 2020 Summer Games in Tokyo. Whether they’re taking turns on a makeshift ramp and grinding along park benches, ollieing stairs and clearing fire hydrants, or ripping down city streets by the dozen, skaters are seemingly everywhere, and there is no better time for beginners to grab a board and get in on the action.
Entry, however, can be the trickiest part. Before the fear of falling even becomes an issue, many skaters face a barrier to entry created by a lack of representation and acceptance in the sport. The majority of skate spots are occupied by straight, cisgender males, creating an intimidating and often unwelcoming environment for skaters who don’t fit that description: people of color, femmes, LGBTQ+ folks, the list goes on. For an activity that is often seen as anti-establishment and against all authority, it has proved, almost ironically, to be a rather closed circle. But thanks to the long-overdue broadening of the social scope brought about by the internet, a good dose of social turbulence, and a general call for more acceptance and representation, initiatives are being put in place to open the skate circle and make space for unconventional participants.
Enter FroSkate, a Chicago-based skate crew founded by queer skaters and skaters of color who are striving to provide a safe, supportive, and shame-free space and offer resources to marginalized communities that extend beyond the board. What started with a few Instagram stories calling for skate sessions has turned into a skateboarding tour de force that has been the subject of social coverage, international press, and a Nike campaign. In August 2021, Mission sat down with FroSkate founder and CEO Karlie Thornton and vice president L Brew to learn more.
Marissa Lee: Tell me about the inception of FroSkate—anything from the first meetups to finding space to coming up with its name.
Karlie Thornton: FroSkate began in late May 2019. I was really into skateboarding when I was in middle school in St. Louis, but I never really thought I could skate myself. I always saw boys doing it, and I never really thought it was a girls’ sport. When I moved to Chicago, I started with someone named O.J. Hays, who’s super well connected to the skateboard scene here, and he saw how badly I wanted to start skating. He got me my first real skateboard and invited me out with his skater friends, and I finally had a support system of folks who supported my skating—except they were all older pro-level men. I was very intimidated. I had a few friends who were loosely interested in skating, and we just started skating at different locations around Chicago. People started seeing that I was skating through Instagram and started hitting me up, asking when I was skating next and if they could join. We had this group chat that grew and grew, and then one night we were skating and I noticed we all had Afros, and I was like, “Hey, look, we’re ‘Afro Skate,’ ” and then that turned into “FroSkate” and stuck.
ML: Can you explain more about the meetups? Are they the center of FroSkate or do you carry out other initiatives?
KT: Once that original group chat got big, we decided to start an Instagram and just post simple flyers with a date, time, and meetup location. Ultimately, we wanted to create a space for nontraditional skaters—more femmes, more queer folks, more trans folks—and the meetup was an opportunity for people to find that community.
L Brew: Skating is a super community-driven activity, and before having FroSkate, a lot of us knew the feeling of going to the skate park and being a beginner and being the only one who looks like you and feeling like there are a lot of eyes on you. The meetups allow us all to congregate at the same place, same time and support each other. Our motto is “Falling is easier with friends,” and the meetups give people the space to make mistakes and learn and just have fun.
ML: How do you feel about the acceptance and representation that is currently offered in the skate community?
KT: I think people are still figuring out how to be allies in this space. When it comes to allyship, some people can get a little scared and confused about how to properly show up for us. They want to give us the space, because that’s what we’ve called for, but we don’t ever want it to be a segregated thing. I just want all skaters to have enough space to all do our own thing together.
LB: When I started skating in 2016, when I was 15, I had never seen another Black girl skating, whether in the media or in real life. At the time, I felt like an anomaly. To be a Black female skateboarder felt like I was doing something that nobody had ever seen before. I felt, and still feel, that every time I go out and ride my board in public, I’m doing representation work.
KT: Before forming FroSkate, I didn’t even have the slightest idea that this world was for me. I didn’t see representation of Black women in the industry very much. It was a surprise to learn that there were other women doing this same type of work. The representation was so little in Chicago that it got to the point where if you were a woman of color and you were out skating, people automatically assumed you were part of FroSkate, because it was the first of its kind.
ML: How do you hope this type of initiative will become accessible to skaters in small communities outside of big cities?
LB: One thing we’ve been seeing happen is people are founding organizations for themselves in their cities and bringing their local communities into these spaces as well. Our work is based in Chicago, but to be able to reach people not only in this country but in other countries as well, and to encourage those folks who have never seen themselves represented in skateboarding, is really important.
ML: Can you explain a bit about how a lack of access to parks and skating supplies marginalizes unconventional skaters?
KT: Accessibility is definitely an issue. For example, there are way more skate parks in the North Side of Chicago, which is a predominantly white neighborhood. Skate parks and skate shops are virtually nonexistent in a lot of Black communities, so we’re already at a disadvantage because it’s that much harder to access space and supplies. It’s a long-term goal of ours to help solve that issue and to bring a skate park to the South Side community.
ML: Lastly, what’s something you want everyone to know about skateboarding?
KT: That skateboarding is an individual sport. It’s what you make it, and you shouldn’t put too much pressure on it. It’s not about the tricks or going to the Olympics—it’s about doing it because it makes you happy. Your own relationship with your skateboard is up to you, because it’s your unique experience.
LB: Just believe in yourself! Skateboarding is very mental, and it’s all about self-confidence. If you believe you can do whatever you want to do in terms of skating, you can definitely do it.
Image courtesy of Victor Adetunji Johnson
