The Community

Skateboarding has always been about more than skateboarding. For a lot of us, it was where we found our people. It was a place where you could show up without having everything figured out and still belong. It didn't matter where you came from, what you looked like, what kind of music you listened to, or whether you fit into whatever version of normal everyone else was trying to sell you. You could find a board, find a spot, and eventually find people who understood you.

That's one of the things we have always appreciated about skateboarding, and it's one of the reasons Trace exists.

In my years working around skateboarding, I saw a pretty wide range of people come through the community. Some were barely old enough to know what they were doing on a board, while others were already well into adulthood. Boys and girls, artists, musicians, shop owners, photographers, builders, entrepreneurs, and people who simply loved to skate. There was never one type of person who belonged. The common thread was that they found something in the culture that made sense to them.

But I also watched what happened as some of those kids got older.

At ten years old, your biggest problem might be figuring out how to land a trick. A few years later, the questions get considerably harder. What are you going to do with your life? How are you going to support yourself? What does being responsible actually look like? Who do you talk to when you don't know what the next step is?

Those questions aren't unique to skateboarders, but I think people who grow up in unconventional environments can sometimes have a particularly difficult time finding the bridge between independence and adulthood. Skateboarding teaches you to think for yourself. It teaches persistence, creativity, problem-solving, and a certain willingness to go against the grain. Those are valuable qualities. But nobody automatically teaches you how to turn them into a career, a business, a trade, or a meaningful life.

And sometimes the only examples young people have are the ones they see on a screen.

That is something I would like to see change.

I don't think the answer is to change skateboarding or to make the culture more conventional. In fact, I think that would miss the point entirely. The things that make skateboarding valuable should be protected. The independence, creativity, individuality, and sense of community are precisely the things worth carrying forward.

The opportunity is to connect that community with the people who can help its members figure out what comes next.

There are people everywhere who have already made that transition. Artists who figured out how to make a living from their work. Business owners who started with very little and built something of their own. Tradespeople who learned a skill and turned it into a career. Entrepreneurs who took an unconventional idea and made it work. People who didn't follow a traditional path but eventually found one that worked for them.

A lot of those people probably would have benefited from meeting someone like themselves when they were younger.

Maybe that's what community can be at its best. Not just a group of people who enjoy the same thing, but a network of people who are willing to help one another move forward.

That's the kind of community I want Trace to be part of building.

That starts with simply bringing people together. Skaters should be able to meet artists. Artists should be able to meet businesses. Young people should be able to meet adults who have taken paths they didn't know existed. Someone interested in a trade should be able to meet someone who actually works in that trade. Someone thinking about starting a business should be able to have a conversation with someone who has already done it.

Sometimes those connections lead somewhere significant. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes the value is simply meeting another person and realizing there are more possibilities than you thought.

I also think there is something important about creating more places for young people to spend their time doing something positive. As I've gotten older, I've gained a different perspective on some of the things I thought were normal when I was younger. Trespassing, destroying property, and creating problems for businesses or neighborhoods shouldn't have to be part of skateboarding. It doesn't make the culture stronger, and it doesn't help the people who are trying to protect places for skaters to use.

There are skateparks, shops, businesses, and public spaces that communities have invested significant time and money into. Those places exist so people can use them. I'd rather see young people filling those spaces, meeting each other, competing, creating, and pushing one another than looking for somewhere they aren't supposed to be.

That doesn't mean every gathering needs to be some major production. Sometimes a small competition or a group of people getting together is enough. Sometimes it's an artist showing their work, someone talking about how they built their career, or a group of people simply spending an afternoon together. The point isn't necessarily the event itself. The point is what can happen when people who normally wouldn't cross paths are given a reason to.

And this shouldn't belong to Trace alone.

The best communities aren't owned by one person, one company, or one organization. They are made up of everyone who participates in them. Skate shops have a role. Parks have a role. Parents have a role. Riders have a role. Artists have a role. Local businesses have a role. The people who have been around for decades have a role, and the kid who just picked up a skateboard has a role too.

Everyone brings something different.

That's why I don't see Trace as something that needs to sit above the skate community or tell it where to go. I'd rather see it as another set of hands helping connect people who are already doing good things. We want to be involved, listen, contribute, and create opportunities for people to find one another.

The skate community has already built something valuable. We don't need to replace it. We need more people invested in it.

Maybe that means helping a young skater find a mentor. Maybe it means introducing an artist to someone who can help them take their work further. Maybe it means giving a business owner an opportunity to connect with the next generation. Maybe it simply means creating a reason for people to show up at the park and spend time together.

There is no single formula for community. It grows through relationships, trust, and participation.

That's the part that matters to me.

Trace is still growing, and we're figuring things out as we go. But one thing is clear: we don't want to build something that exists separately from the people who made this culture what it is. We want to be around the people who are already here and make room for the people who are coming next.

Because skateboarding gave a lot of us a place to belong when we were young.

I think we have an opportunity to make sure that sense of belonging doesn't have to end when you grow up.

The community can be bigger than the activity.

It can be the people you meet, the things you learn, the opportunities you discover, and the people who help you figure out what comes next.

That's the community we're interested in.

And everyone is invited.