‘The act of skating is an individual act but at the skate park it happens within a social context of people spanning age and every identity.’
Adam D. Brown
Jumping the Generational Divide
May 2026
Back in the early 90’s, the NYC suburbs, like many places in the US, were going crazy for skating. We weren’t old enough to drive and we were surrounded by culturally devoid strip malls and parking lots. Suddenly, through MTV and other forms of pop culture, the universe brought us a means of getting around and a completely new use for those concrete expanses. Hallelujah.
To say that we were obsessed would be an understatement. My town didn’t have a skatepark or a skate shop. But when we found a skate shop in the suburbs it was like entering a portal to a different dimension of cool and possibility. We would collect magazines and VHS videos of California skaters doing what looked like the impossible, poured over catalogs delivered by mail with the latest decks and gear, and spent as much time as we could finding spots to try, and usually fail, to imitate those pros. Eventually, after being tired and bruised, we’d usually find ourselves sitting on our decks, reading comic books or talking about whatever new video game came out, until it got dark.
Like so many kids as soon as we got a little older and people started driving, there was a lot less skating, and for me, sadly, it became a few decades. I always looked back at those times though as important and when I became I dad I wanted to make sure that my kids had a chance to skate too. When they were pretty young I got them a narrow plastic board to roll around on and they took to it pretty quickly. My son was soon asking for a full-size board and we picked out a Jart. While I hadn’t really been into skating for a while, it was so awesome to see him figure things out and to help him learn a few tricks. Watching him skate sparked something in me. The idea of getting back on a deck sounded like so much fun. I was craving that feeling of being fully in the moment, challenging yourself, and the thrill of nailing a move.
‘That’s why the skate park is perfect for social connections. It’s full of people making what researchers call “weak meaningful ties”.’
Pretty soon, the pandemic hit and we needed something to keep us from going crazy. That kicked into high gear for me. In between zoom work meetings I began googling skateboard companies and not surprisingly was blown away by all of the new companies and the global skate scene. I found a small shop in the UK and soon enough after a few emails and a phone call with a patient shop owner, I had my first fully assembled Drawing Board skateboard delivered after 30 year break. While my wife may have given me a few looks when opening the box due to my child-like enthusiasm, she has been really supportive and encouraging. We started rolling around empty basketball courts, just like I did when I was young, and eventually made our way to the nearby skatepark. My daughter soon joined us with her own Meow board and now the three of us regularly head down there together. I’m pretty cautious these days – man, it hurts to fall – but I so admire how my kids take chances and push themselves to learn new tricks.
The coolest part for me though, is that skating has become a vehicle for us to hang out and to talk. On the way to the park and back home we joke around or catch up. We cheer each other on when we land a move and help each other up when we fall. We have a new family tradition looking for skate shops when we travel and collecting stickers to slap on each other’s water bottles. Stories about my days skating as a kid lead to other stories about family, society, and life more generally.
‘Skating has also been a way to create new connections as a middleaged adult, which doesn’t happen so often, especially in a place like NYC.’
Skating has also been a way to create new connections as a middle-aged adult, which doesn’t happen so often, especially in a place like NYC. I’ve been living in this city for over twenty years and despite how many people I have known, it can be hard to develop meaningful connections. The density, the hustle, the intensity of the grind. Outside of work and maybe family, people are looking for space. That’s why the skate park is perfect for social connections. It’s full of people making what researchers call “weak meaningful ties”. You don’t need to best friends with everyone at the park, but when you roll up and recognize people, or when you are recognized, the subtle nod of a head, the fist bump, or the “what’s up”, makes you suddenly feel tethered to a place and a community. The act of skating is an individual act but at the skate park it happens within a social context of people spanning age and every identity.
I also find that the older you get the more often you find yourself interacting with people in your same age group, with similar jobs, and from similar places. Skating helps to transcend those silos. Social interactions at the skate park cross generational lines more easily than in most places. In general, I gravitate towards chatting with other oldies like me. Since I’m a few standard deviations about the average age of those at the park I’m always curious to hear about their trajectory and history with skating. I’m consistently inspired by my middleaged peers. Some have never taken a break from skating and seriously shred. Others are brand new to the scene. One of my skate buddies said her adult daughter was shocked to come home from Chicago to learn that her mother had taken up skating! It’s also great to learn from and meet the younger generation too. I find myself doing a lot of the checking-in after a big fall. One the other hand, younger skaters have been incredibly generous towards me giving me tips to help me with my ollies and shove-its.
‘What was once so linked so closely with stereotypes of burnouts and outcasts is increasingly being recognized for its many physical, social, creative and emotional benefits.’
When I’m not skating I’m a clinical psychologist and professor who studies how people cope with stress and adversity. For me personally, the skating and the skate park provide so many of the benefits researchers know support well being. The past two decades of studies on things that help promote good mental health, especially during challenging time include, physical activity, the pursuit of meaningful activities, social support, as well as mindfulness and flow-like practices, in which a person is fully in the moment. It’s a good reminder of how cultures evolve. What was once so linked so closely with stereotypes of burnouts and outcasts is increasingly being recognized for its many physical, social, creative and emotional benefits. One of the most important things known to support happiness and well-being is gratitude. Well, when it comes to skating, I feel incredibly lucky every time I step on a board and roll to my park overlooking the Hudson River and hear the familiar sounds trucks and decks hitting cement.
This is new skating terrain for me. There were no elders around when I was coming up. Skating was still something young punks did. It was far from a family pastime. At least where I lived. The really cool thing is I’m clearly not the only one. I’m so inspired to see other parents in the skate park too with their kids. Whether it’s oldies who are just out there watching, or rocking back and forth on a board, or dropping into the half pipe, skating and the skate park is becoming a place for inter-generational connection. Community has always been a part of skating. But now it’s leaping across the ages and providing a sense of connection when so many people need it. I hope when my kids are pushing mid 40’s, they’re still out there with their boards, sharing their stories, lending support to those coming up, and feeling as inspired as I do by the next generation of skaters.