Love thy skater

As spring continues to spring my family is embracing the joy of public parks. They come with epic playgrounds, elaborate bike-paths and sometimes a skate-park.

The community skatepark has always seemed a bit high-risk to me. An unregulated labrynth of concrete designed to break bones. However, with my kids’ love of riding and scooting and my newfound commitment to free-range parenting thanks to Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation, skateparks are now part of our outdoor repertoire. They’ve also become a surprising source of moral inspiration. 

Skatepark folk span a broad diversity of ages, cultures, socio-economic backgrounds and experience. The biggest challenge that arises from this epic melting pot of competence is of course, avoiding collisions. Yet somehow, it works. There are plenty of falls, but curiously almost no collisions. I studied the ecosystem carefully using my meagre expertise in geometry and physics, without success. After reflecting for a little longer, I discovered their secret. It’s an ancient piece of moral wisdom that I first came across in the Bible: Everyone looks out for those who are less able and more ‘at risk’ than them.

4-year olds look out for 2-year olds. 12-year olds look out for 8-year olds. And the teens and 20-somethings look out for everyone. One particular skater summed it up. He was around 20. Long hair, backwards cap, fast and very skilful. On several occasions, he was (through no fault of his) about to collide with a younger less able skater/rider/scooter. Every time, he threw himself into a strategic crash to avoid the other kid. I thanked him for ‘dodging the kids.’ He smiled and thanked me back. He understood that skateparks only work when we look out for those who are more vulnerable than us. I’m pretty sure the principle extends to all of life.