One of the perks of the job here at SKATEISM is that it puts you at the intersection of a lot of skate activism, academia, and advocacy. In covering those topics, you get to meet a lot of brilliant people who are all working to change the world through skateboarding. Incidentally, you also get A LOT of zines. As someone whose complex thoughts about skateboarding first found expression in a zine, it makes a ton of sense why the people who spend the most time thinking and caring about skateboarding are the most inspired to create these little labors of love. I cherish every single one I get, but some definitely stand out. I finally got around to reading ‘Out of the Blues,’ a glossy, full-size memoir of Lisa Jacob’s adventures in the world of international volunteer skatepark construction, and I could instantly tell I’d stumbled onto something special.
Words by Tobias Coughlin-Bogue
Lisa, who I’d previously only interacted with as @lizzjake on Instagram, gave me a free copy of the zine when we met at Pushing Boarders. Having only exchanged a few pleasantries on the ‘gram, mostly centered on columns of my own that they’d liked, I had no idea what to expect of their work. All I knew was that the cover of the zine had a lot going on: a man in dark shades and a white tank top, slouching back on a yellow scooter in the center of an unfinished bowl, surrounded by power tools and staring intently into a streak of fire that looks like it’s been etched at random across the flatbottom with kerosene. Like I said, it’s something special.
But it’s what’s inside that really gets you. Lisa’s first proper article, “Chasing Stoke,” feels like a perfect summation of everything that’s wrong with society. After diagnosing many of our ills, she then explains in blunt, driving prose why dedicating one’s life to skateboarding — at least in the particular way that she and her fellow builders have — is a pretty good antidote.
From there, she takes us on an international journey unlike any other, from the Holystoked tour in India to Annapurna in Nepal to an understaffed and seemingly impossible build in Ethiopia. Along the way, we’re treated to a whole host of beautiful photographs, by her and a few of her fellow builders, documenting not only the parks the built and the tricks they did there, but the actual spirit of the communities these builds and tricks took place in.
As much as I enjoyed the hauntingly beautiful photographs of, for example, the quarterpipe build to match the mountain peaks behind it, or my friend Melvin Podolski crailsliding over two little kids hiding in the traditional Moroccan-style doorway in Taghazout, I was most impressed with the observations about life that Jacob manages to glean from all these adventures. This one, in particular, placed below a photo of one of the most amazing street spots I’ve ever seen and next to another of a builder sleeping on the dirty ground between two boards and a broom, really hit me:
“There’s always how you’re supposed to do it and how you can still do it. When you feel like you’re stuck in a situation, ask yourself what would gypsies do, or another civilisation, or even animals, or a madman or a king. Because we are not all made to be able to live by the norms thrust upon us. If sometimes you do feel like you’re miscast in the play, then try to give yourself another role. It’s not all written yet. You may not be able to change the whole world but you may sure change yours.”
In an era where we feel increasingly beset by things that are beyond our ability to change on our own — climate change, reactionary political movements, endless war — it’s an important reminder that we can, and should, still strive to change and improve our own little world, using whatever tools we have on hand. We should not resign ourselves to seeing these problems as inevitable or insurmountable, which is how the people creating them want us to feel, and we should not be discouraged into thinking that the good work we do carry off isn’t making a difference.
Is building a skatepark in India going to keep fossil fuel companies from roasting us all alive? Not directly, but it’s going to bring a lot of kids a lot of joy, and perhaps introduce them to not just the sport but the ethos of skateboarding. Which would, I suspect, have them asking the type of questions we need the next generation to be asking if we’re to have any hope.
Anyway, these are the type of things Jacob’s zine gets me thinking about, and I can’t thank her enough for it. Her experience, of placing herself outside of society to do something as ostensibly pointless as building skateparks, sleeping in dirt and eating salvaged veggies to see it through, is a very effective way of reframing what it is exactly that we need to live happy lives. Of course, it’s a very unique situation, and not one all of us can — or should, necessarily — replicate in order to achieve perfect happiness. The real lesson is that life is to be lived to your own specifications, and it’s up to you to find out what those are. But there are a lot of virtues that any skater should aspire to here, I think: appreciating the simple moments spent skating with your friends; traveling and gaining an understanding of other cultures; improving the world with your work; not being afraid to get a little dirty; having a crazy life-altering party every once in awhile; playing — and losing at — dice with grace; and so on.
Besides all that, it’s just a really beautifully put together zine. There are some sections unrelated to skatepark building that are really great as well, namely a couple spreads dedicated to street photos that could easily have run in SOLO, and a nice Arizona interlude with Chloe Bernard. It’s available online via a sliding scale from 2-30€, and all the proceeds go to the Concrete Jungle Foundation, which “uses skateboarding as a tool to stimulate positive personal and community development for underprivileged youth around the world.” Shipping is 3-5€ depending on where you are in the world. No matter what you pay, though, it’s well worth it. Thank you, Lisa, for making this thing. I hope you make another!
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Follow Lisa (@lizzjake) and Out of the Blues (@0utoftheblues) on Instagram.
Featured image: Elliott Aufray, crooked down the hubba, shot by Armando Santos. All photos courtesy of Lisa Jacob.
