Embracing Fear: Ryme and the Skatepark Takeovers
words by Molly Randhawa
photography by Rachel Pick
Any skater will tell you that learning how to fall is the most important step and trusting yourself in the process will only get you Lahcene, embracing fear is what took her to the next step with the Sunday Takeovers at the downtown skatepark known as Plaza. Notorious for its intimidating nature, the Takeovers strive to create a community and reclaim the space for less experienced skaters, specifically catering to women, non-binary, and queer skaters.
When Ryme and I first became friends, she had just started learning how to skate. We bonded over skating, but her perseverance and dedication to learn was unmatched. I remember we went on a trip to Seattle, and we were staying in this big loft in Queen Anne, and all I could hear on the other side of the room was Ryme watching skate videos on her iPod. We made plans of how our next trip to Seattle would be a skate trip, and for Ryme— it was. Whatever she says, she does.
I was stoked to have the opportunity to write about the charisma that radiates through her energy, and the Takeovers. There’s a tenacity that she has which unites people, and that’s how the Takeovers flourished. It came from a place of wanting to connect with homies. She says it best herself, “I just wanted to skate with my friends.” Words uttered by every skater, ever.
Tracking Ryme down is another experience. She’s one of those people willingly without a phone, so making plans with her is a bit old school. I compare it to using your parents’ phone to call your friends after school to meet up at the park and banking that they would be there when you showed up.
This child-like charm resonates through the structure of what the Takeovers are. It’s an opportunity for friends to get together and skate in an environment that feels safe, low-maintenance, and empowering.
We met up on a Sunday afternoon and did what we usually do: shoot the shit, go vintage shopping, and then maybe go for a coffee, or go for what we like to call ‘humble dinner’. We sat down at Nemesis by Victory Square, both of us laughing at me having to interview her. We probably searched for a spot to sit inside the coffee shop for ten minutes before we got comfortable. And then we got into it.
In her weekdays, Ryme works as a youth worker for the Conseil Scolaire Francophone, the French-language School Board of British Columbia. The inspiration behind the Takeovers’ was fueled by wanting to bring her students together. It came from a space of wanting to create a mentorship program for her students to learn and participate in extracurriculars. “The Takeovers were a pilot project,” Ryme says. “I got this grant through the school, and I bought a bunch of skateboards for the students, but I got the skateboards in June and then it was summer.” With this not-so setback, Ryme took the opportunity to use her boards over the summer by bridging the barrier for beginner skateboarders with little to no access to boards.
The first official Takeover was in March, but they didn’t really take off until June. “A lot of my friends would skate very infrequently, and oftentimes they’d show up to the community events” says Ryme. “One day I just started DM’ing people and was like ‘we’re gonna skate in the morning, come to plaza, I’ll bring the boards...’” she recalls. “Creating safe spaces for Black, Indigenous, people of colour, trans, and queer folks is important. As democratic as skateboarding is, not having a board is a barrier. You want to bridge that gap.”
Initially making the decision to start skating at Plaza was intimidating. By choosing a time in the morning before the skatepark filled up with more seasoned skaters, Ryme says that it was just about taking up space. “At the meet ups, there are so many people who are there, just taking up that space. It took me a long time [to feel comfortable], but it was a community effort. It wouldn’t be what it is without the community support” she says.
The skate community, although seemingly a boy’s club, has been run by women in Vancouver long before this recent cultural shift. Take a look at Vancouver’s legendary skate shop Antisocial, run by Michelle Pezel— an avid advocate for the skateboarding community. Women have been making strides in the community before this recent boom which has shifted the cultural landscape of what it means to be a skater in the city. She sits on the board of the Vancouver Skateboard Coalition, as well as being the driving force with the maintenance of Leeside Skatepark. In an interview with Vice’s gender and identity initiative, Broadly, Michelle says, “Community I think plays a huge part in creativity… people don’t really think of it as all being connected but it’s all connected.”
Skateboarding fosters a community, and as much as it is a solo experience to learn, there is a huge social aspect that comes with learning how to skate. Ryme even mentions how Michelle was a mentor for her when she first started skating. “When I met Michelle from Antisocial, she was super helpful— she taught me how to drop in and pump.” Ryme says “[she] built that network from dropping off the zines. Just being in that headspace of being scared to take up space, [she] was scared to go to Antisocial at first.” The zines that she is referring to is a one-year project that explored themes of consent, ambidexterity, saving the bees, and confetti. Ryme built her network by dropping the zines off at different shops around the city, building her network within the city. “If I hadn’t started skateboarding, I wouldn’t have created my zines. It helped me eliminate that fear…when you’re face to face with fear, it’s understanding that you can do anything you want to do, you just have to do it.”
With the preconceived reputations that skateboarders often have, Ryme encourages people just to show up. “The beautiful thing about skateboarding is that it’s really community based, people really care and it’s not that scary. Everyone is at a different [skill] level, it doesn’t matter, we’re all just in our heads… there’s always these preconceived notions of skaters, but it’s been a really gentle experience.” This was also the case when a friend, Taylor, broke her ankle early in the skate season, and couldn’t get back on a board. Taylor would show up to the Takeovers and created a space for people to take a break, create art, and offer an exchange of her Métis heritage with bead-working.
With the inclusive nature of the Takeovers, Ryme says she hopes that “the Takeovers will sustain itself so [she] doesn’t have to call it a Takeover.” Even with the uncertain future of Plaza because of forthcoming demolition plans of the Georgia Viaduct, Ryme is still optimistic about the future of the Takeovers. “Plaza has been such a staple in the community for skating. Witnessing gentrification and that it won’t stay has brought people together. You feel you take up space as a beginner, but it was important to say you can take that space. It is okay to be a beginner.”
While Ryme insists that the Takeovers aren’t a group, she has a motto that she follows. “We’re not a group, it’s just come skate, we’re reclaiming space.” You can find Ryme and crew taking over Plaza on Sunday mornings. ● This story was originally published in the inaugural issue of Found You Magazine in March 2020. Buy this issue.
Molly Randhawa is a writer, editor, independent publisher, events producer, radio host, and curator based in Vancouver. Founder of independent arts collective and publication Contrast Collective, her focus remains in facilitating open and honest discourse and cultivating spaces for marginalized artists.
Rachel Pick is an editorial and commercial photographer interested in observing, listening, and crafting images that invite a viewer to pause and see another side of a human story and look beneath the surface.