Field Observation Report: Belconnen Skate Park, Thursday 24th of February 3:54 pm - 5:00 pm

When I was 15 the coolest thing you could be was a skater. After spending an hour at the Belconnen Skate Park, the most popular skate park in Canberra, it is easy to see why this subculture is so appealing to youth. The obvious danger combined with perceived nonchalance displayed by those most skilled fits a masculine ideal. When skaters fell, it did not look foolish, it seemed to add character making the trick they did complete even more impressive.

The Skate park is located between Ginninderra lake and the town center. A striking contrast between nature and urban settings. Although it was relatively empty on this day, the signs of the usual inhabitants remained. Graffiti tags and old KFC boxes created a grimey atmosphere.

I sat on a large set of steps next to the park. On the far side was a tin roof shelter with seats underneath. Litter surrounded the seats. This is where the skaters sat for a break—smoking, talking on the phone or just watching the others. The park was far quieter than one would expect after school on a Thursday. Undoubtedly the dark clouds and drizzle were the culprits for such an underwhelming turnout. Those that were there were mostly males, racially diverse and aged from early teens to mid twenties.

I observed unspoken but strict social divisions at the park. There were three social groups: skaters, roller bladers and scooter riders. The segregation was not just based on activity. Age and gender also seemed to play a part. Most rollerbladers were teenage girls and scooter riders were younger than everyone else. In fact, it could be their identity which informed the activity they chose. Everyone knew their place. The children with scooters and their parents sat around a large wooden pergola-like structure, next to the bowl. The few rollerbladers sat on a wall in front of me. The skaters had their tin shelter. There was no interaction between groups and disciplines.

I focused my observation on the skaters and their symbolic interactions as they dominated the park. The skaters are members of a recognisable and distinct subculture, defined in part by their aesthetic: baggy clothes, scuffed sneakers and unkempt hair often held down by a beanie or a backwards baseball cap. It is apparent that these fashion choices are made to seem casual and scruffy: the pants, the sweaters and the shoes are a carefully curated uniform for the purpose of fitting into the identity ‘skater’. One of the skaters did not match the rest. His jeans were tight and his crew cut was military level precise. With inadvertent stereotyping I identified him as a beginner or less skilled or simply less committed to the culture.

Although the skaters sat in groups and some had arrived in groups, there was not a lot of verbal interaction, rarely conversation past a greeting or perhaps a nod, a ‘damn’ or a whistle to give praise. This was not an ordinary social gathering, they were ‘together apart’. Many had headphones in their ears, they acted unconcerned with their fellow skaters and were not at all looking for connection.

This antisocial behavior was not consistent amongst all groups. The rollerbladers had casual verbal exchanges typical of female friendship groups. They talked about school and about people they knew. The scooter kids talked to each other and also talked to their parents. This made me think the skaters’ communication style was linked to their subcultural norm of coolness.

Skating is one of those activities that can quickly become a massive part of one’s identity. Undoubtedly in environments with a wider range of social groups, such as school, these kids would be labeled as skater kids. At the age they were, it is likely they don’t have much else going on in their lives. This is when a hobby can become serious leisure.

I noticed that whether a skater landed or failed a trick, their emotions apparently stayed flat. They never got too high or too low. This lack of emotional display seemed an accessory to the aesthetic. The ethos of staying cool and not showing emotion whether it be frustration or jubilation is obvious in skate culture. Rather than a fist pump, pride at a successful trick is shown through an adjustment of the hair or a scratch of the nose. Their insouciance and aloof nature seemed unique, it would be hard to find another sport where this would be the norm.

It may have been a combination of the day I was there and my inability to skate well, but from my perspective the average level of skating ability was tremendous. This could be a testament to the unintentional intimidation and consequent exclusion of beginners. Skate culture has a history of gatekeeping. They’ve been known to accuse beginners of skating purely to reap the social benefits of the ‘cool’ subculture. While the park seems on the surface to be an egalitarian space open to all, it actually contains a status hierarchy based on skill level.

There were some limitations to my observation. On this day I wore my normal clothes: baggy cargo pants, a hoodie and sneakers. Although I blended in pretty well as a 19 year old,the skaters stared at me as they rode past on their way to the shelter and continued to do so as they sat down. Maybe it was because I was a newcomer. Most likely it was because I had a notebook and pen rather than a skateboard. Judging by their suspicious glances the skaters probably thought I was an undercover police officer or other authority figure. This may have affected how they spoke amongst themselves or how they acted. They might have held off on doing deviant acts, like graffiti, due to my presence. If I were to go back and do my observation again I would bring a skateboard with me.