Chad Unger’s Pride Video Interview

photo by Brett Spurr

Intro by Spencer Schubert

June 27, 2020

The most defining feature about Chad isn’t that he’s deaf but that he has an intoxicating smile. It’s the first thing I remember about meeting him at some snowboard event years ago. I wanted to talk to him because I was a fan of his edits. He made these videos from Brighton without songs, because obviously he couldn’t hear them. We started chatting by typing questions on his phone and passing it back and forth. That conversation was very surface-level; we were face to face but might as well have been texting from miles away. That’s when I first realized I had never really thought about what it was like to be deaf. Our community in snowboarding seems so small, loving, and inclusive, but I couldn’t help think people viewed Chad as having a disability. People see Chad and want to talk, as if it’s something to do, rather than actually start a friendship—because how? He’s so different. 

Snowboarding culture feels like it’s 90 percent talking about snowboarding and 10 percent actual snowboarding. Understanding that, I feel like Chad is more of a snowboarder than most of the people I know. He doesn’t go to the resort to shoot the shit on the chairlift, or talk about what trick to try. He is there completely for the experience of snowboarding itself. I saw that as such a brave act, to immerse yourself into a scene based so heavily on verbal communication, because the snowboarding outweighed the possibility of feeling left out. 

It wasn’t until later when I developed a friendship with Chad that I realized so much I thought was wrong. Chad can’t hear, but he can read a room better than someone talking in it. So often we’ll get a big crew of snowboarders together, and waste time arguing opinions on some video or other bullshit, while Chad will go off and silently take an amazing photo. You can pull out your phone to film something, but he will capture it in a way you could never think of. His lack of hearing has heightened Chad’s visual acuity to a point that is almost supernatural. 

But just as I thought I understood Chad, my perspective of his involvement in the snowboard community changed again when he told me he was gay. Chad was openly out before, but it wasn’t well known, because few had dug deep enough to ask. Maybe that’s because his snowboard friends hadn’t taken the time to see the world as he does, to take a step back from the banter and bullshit to observe. Knowing that Chad is gay doesn’t change my thoughts on him in the slightest, but it does make me question myself and my peers. Would he have said something sooner if snowboarders were more open? Most pros project themselves as progressive on issues like the environment, but are we as progressive with sexuality? I haven’t asked him these questions, but I’ve been busy trying to learn curse words in sign. I don’t have to ask to know that Chad is fearless. Chad is a photographer, a filmer, he is deaf, he is gay, and he is a snowboarder, regardless of any constructs we have built. That, to me, takes way more courage than hopping on a rail or flying off a jump.

video by Tanner Pendleton
photo by Justin Meyer
photo by Cole Navin
Chad’s photo on the back cover of Issue TWO of Torment Mag

Jill Perkins’ Pride Interview

| June 25th, 2020 |

Jill Perkins intro photo to pride interview | photo by Marc O'Malley
photo by Marc O’Malley

Intro and Interview by Jon Stark

In 2015, Jill Perkins came to Salt Lake City from California, not to start a snowboard career, just to be in the mountains and snowboard more. Everything that came after was something out of a Disney sports movie. She progressed quicker than anyone should, yet the timeline of her overnight rise coincided with a growing discomfort in her own identity. What’s expected of you and what’s best for you can differ greatly. Jill’s trajectory ultimately put more pressure on her to fit a generic mold of the female snowboarder.

Sexuality isn’t black and white, and relationships can be hard to articulate. In an industry that hasn’t been historically welcoming of this fluidity, social terrain is inherently more difficult to navigate while sheltering away your true self. Now, as a leader in our community, she’s taking a stand for inclusivity and positivity as snowboarding enters a new chapter of acceptance.

Jill Perkins snowboarding | photo by Marc O'Malley
photo by Marc O’Malley

How do you feel about being included in this week of Pride that highlights queer people in our snowboard community?

Honestly, I couldn’t be more excited. To be a part of the queer community was something I was scared of for a long time. But to be alongside some of the most inspirational, strong, beautiful people, especially in snowboarding, that fear has left my mind.

It seems like you’ve been pretty open about your sexuality. Has that been easy or has it taken some time to get there?

I feel like I just recently started to accept myself and my feelings. I wasn’t necessarily fighting them; I just never fully embraced them. That being said, it took time for sure. But that’s important. Nobody should feel forced into situations or feel like they need to express themselves in ways they aren’t ready to.

How would you define your sexuality now?

Well, my sexuality falls short of a definition. It’s not one way or the other. I enjoy getting to know and love people. What I will say is about three years ago I fell in love with a girl. I guess, before that, I never really admitted to myself or thought about being gay or straight or in between. That’s really it. But here I am, three years later, realizing this was not just as some would say, a phase.

And I think even during that time, I was still just kind of putting it off, and putting it off, and not necessarily being open with myself or with her. I think having that honesty in a relationship allows you to bring much needed happiness to your life. It took me too long to realize that, because when you’re happy, you’re able to progress, you’re able to stand for what you believe in, you’re able to do the things that you love to do to their fullest.

Did you think your career would be perceived differently because of your sexuality?

For sure, subconsciously. I’ve spent so much time believing in the “do you and find things that make you happy” mantra and telling other people those things. And I know that’s the right way to live—own it and be honest with yourself. But for some reason, I’ve found myself not doing those things in order to cater to other people. And I think, ultimately, if I am open with my peers, then the people I surround myself with are going to be open and genuine as well. If I were to have realized sooner what I am working towards now, I think I would have avoided a lot of stress and anxiety that has brought me to the point of wanting to talk about it. 

Jill Perkins and Nirvana Ortanez
photo by Nirvana Ortanez

Do you think this pandemic has given you the ability to think more deeply about this stuff or offer some clarity?

Undeniably. It’s made me realize the fear of losing snowboarding—the thing that I ultimately love to do the most. It’s reminded me that things don’t last forever. Your job doesn’t last forever, your body can max out, or you might not have access to the things you love to do. If I’m capable of doing these things right now in the present, why the hell would I not do them whole-heartedly and as open as I can? Why would I not do the things I love to do as honestly as I can, rather than waking up one day when everything is gone like, well, this sucks. 

As harsh as times are at the moment, I have seen more personal growth in myself than I ever really saw before. It brought to my attention the things and people in life who matter to me and reminded me to, at the end of the day, express and love myself. And to be there for others.

Is your family supportive of your snowboard career? Do they understand your personal relationships?

Yeah, more than I could ever ask them to be. They are amazing. Of course, at first, with snowboarding they didn’t quite understand. But let’s be real, I didn’t even understand. I am really lucky to have their support; they help me with big decisions and always lend their ears when needed. As far as personal relationships go, also yes. They want to see me happy and healthy. I am so blessed to have parents who are interested in and supportive of the things and people I love.

Jill Perkins filming for Everybody, Everybody | photo by Ted Borland
photo by Ted Borland

You mentioned to me the other day that you felt like you came into snowboarding at the right time. What did you mean by that?

I think I just found myself meeting the right people at the right time. I got really lucky when I initially moved to Salt Lake. I didn’t really know what snowboarding was before I entered the scene. To hear what it was and to see what it is now, it looks like it’s definitely gone through its ups and downs and changes. One thing I would like to point out about the present is that I feel as if it is the most “all hands on deck,” as it’s yet to be. People are pushing throughout the industry for equality, and it’s a beautiful thing. We are so lucky to have this little community of, for the most part, open minded people. 

Did you feel like the push for gender equality coincided with that as well?

Yes. What’s cool about snowboarding today is that the people in direct contact, the people making things happen, for the most part, grew up snowboarding. We are seeing a lot more women with jobs in the industry pushing for more women to partake in snowboarding. I believe the present time is a near direct correlation to gender equality in snowboarding. This is kind of off topic but will maybe put it in perspective: I went to the skatepark yesterday, and it was 50/50. I’m talking maybe 13 girls and 13 guys, where a year ago, two years ago, it was like maybe myself and one other girl, or, if you got lucky and went the right time, there would be like three girls. So, I just think, not only in snowboarding, but also in other action sports that things feel like they are moving closer to how they should be.

You progressed very quickly from 2015 to now. What do you attribute that type of growth on your board to?


Haha, yeah?

Addiction and drive. I think no matter what season it is, whether it’s snowboarding or skateboarding—because those are the only two seasons that really matter to me—I feel I’m addicted to it. I love to do it. I go nonstop. And I don’t know if that’s just me wanting to progress—because I do definitely want to progress. Maybe it’s just me not wanting to sit in my room, so I go out and do things, you know?

Jill Perkins front board 270 out | filmed Marc O'Malley
filmed by Marc O’Malley

That makes sense. What does it mean to have been given the opportunity to film video parts?

It’s been a huge opportunity. I’ve gotten really lucky in being included in a couple major projects. I think doing United Slopes a couple of years ago was the first big learning experience for me. It was the first time I really saw how you build a spot, how you hit a spot, how you clean up a spot, every aspect of what we do.

Do you feel like you’ve figured it out yet?

No, absolutely not. But, you know, it’s interesting because I’ve really only filmed one video part: last year’s Everybody, Everybody. And I will say, when it premiered, I don’t know if I’ve ever been on such a cloud nine. That day, I remember just being so nervous because it’s a showcase of all your hard work and everything that you and your snowboard family did that entire year. The personal connections you make through these opportunities allow you a chance to be a part of something bigger than yourself. I’ve learned and grown so much from just having the opportunity to go out and do it. I just feel like it’s important to showcase what you’ve been working on and what potential there is to come.

Jill Perkins shot from Everybody, Everybody | filmed by Ted Borland
filmed by Ted Borland

What are your fears in life?

I mean, initially, I would say failure. But there are a ton of things that fall into that category, you know? It can be a failure to yourself, or you can be a failure to other people. But failure is up there. I think it can be just failing to perceive yourself in a good light and that’s a scary line to dance on. I’m scared of death, but not necessarily personal death. I think death around us scares me. 

Every life we lose in our community is a reason to believe it’s not going to last forever.

Absolutely. But at the same time, it gives us a glimpse into how important personal connections are. Your life is so short. And I know people always say that, but it comes and goes so quickly. And I’m just realizing it now. It’s like you live and you die, and you should be the person that you want to be. And I, personally, feel like I spent a lot of time being the person that I thought other people wanted me to be.

Jill’s first full part in last years “Everybody, Everybody” directed by Ted Borland

I saw you in Portland last year at the Everybody, Everybody premiere, and all these people were coming up and taking photos with you. How does it feel to be considered a role model now? 

It’s a humbling notion. But as an individual, I’m hypercritical when I shouldn’t be. As I’ve grown up, I’ve realized that negative judgments don’t need to be shared, heard, or really talked about. It doesn’t do good for anybody. Being a good person is so important, and there are times where I’m so judgmental—I’m hypercritical on myself and others. It makes me feel like a shitty person, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore. Seeing how hyped people get on snowboarding, and things I get to do through snowboarding, makes me want to make it easier for everyone to be more involved.

So you’re coming to terms with the fact that you want to be true to yourself and the people around you?

Yeah. Maybe I don’t know my true self because I haven’t been trusting those gut instincts. And it’s left me at a point of confusion. But I think right now, more than ever, I’m ready to face that, to stare down that path. 🙂

Tanner Pendleton’s Pride Interview

photo by Cole Navin

Interview by Java Fernandez

June 25th, 2020

It would be hard to mention Tanner Pendleton without acknowledging the influence his work has had on snowboarding. With his signature style and commitment to promoting core snowboarding, Tanner’s films have rocketed brands into their glory days and shaped many of the best riders of this generation, and the next. With titles such as Crazy Loco, Landline, and Together Forever in his catalog, Tanner’s work has undoubtedly changed the landscape of modern day snowboarding—a view shared by many in his orbit.

Being one of my closest friends, I assumed I knew just about everything there was to know about Tanner until about a year ago, when I discovered there’d always been a part of him I never knew about. Tanner told me that he’s gay. He was the first of his peers in snowboarding to have come out. In fact, he may very well be the first male in the snowboard industry to come out.

We spoke about his experience being gay in this community. Like anything else for Tanner, he navigates it all with thoughtfulness and style. 

So you’re just about the first person, at least that I know from the snowboard industry, who’s come out as gay. How old were you when you first knew?

I first knew when I was really young. I can think back really far and remember being like, “Oh shit, I think I’m gay.” To be honest, it was a confusing road, and not everything is black and white, in my opinion. I also think there’s a difference between knowing that you’re gay and accepting that you’re gay. For me, ever since I was really young, I knew. But it was something that the world told me was bad—so I kept it bottled up in a way, you know? It honestly wasn’t until maybe five years ago that I was like, “Okay, yeah, this is me and I’m gay.” Almost as if I needed to come out to myself first and foremost.

Was there a specific moment or something that enabled you to reconcile that with yourself? Or did you just get exhausted with bottling it up?

It was kind of a mix of a lot of things. It became something that was increasingly hard to deny. I had all these feelings, and it just came to a point where I was like, “I can’t ignore these anymore.” I was really aware that I was doing myself a huge disservice and harming myself mentally, to be honest. So internally it became more and more vital that I do something about it. But also, around this same time, the world in general, especially our little bubble, was beginning to get a little more open minded. Brian Anderson coming out was really awesome, and even more so, seeing my friend’s positive reaction to it was something that I took note of. I’d look at his Instagram posts, scroll through his likes and be like, “Oh shit, this friend liked it, that friend liked it!” Also, the world around this time became more politically charged—I noticed a lot of my friends calling out the injustices of our leaders and taking a firm stance on things like gay rights, among so many other things. So, in a weird way, seeing my friends’ reactions to our fucked up president gave me confidence that things might be okay for me. It all sort of bottlenecked into me just being like, “I’m gonna do this.”

If you remember the Snowboarder Magazine photo annual cover of Nov. 2009… That was Tanner; photo by Mike Azevedo

That’s cool. Speaking of Brian Anderson, I talked to him this morning and asked if he had things he’d like to ask or contribute to this interview.

That’s insane you got a question from Brian Anderson. That’s amazing.

He said he’s really proud of you and that you should hit him up when we’re all back in New York. One question he asked is, “Now that you have come out, do you not have quite as much to worry about when you wake up every day? Do you feel you don’t have to ‘do the straight guy thing’ again?”

I think if you’re hiding a piece of yourself, then yeah, you have to put on an act to some extent and it’s something that you get really good at. I sort of stopped doing that for the most part about a year or so before I came out. I just made a promise to myself and I was like, “Alright, I’m not going to be in a conversation with a bunch of bros and chime in with some shit that I don’t really feel.” You know what I mean? But yeah, overall it was such a big weight lifted off my shoulders. And it’s definitely not an immediate fix, but I feel like things get better every day. I feel less and less like I’m putting on an act and being more true to myself.

So, when did you first tell someone, and who was it?

The first person I told was my mom. It’s actually kind of a funny story because it very much relates to snowboarding. I made this promise to myself that I would come out as soon as I finished Landline. I was worried that my whole world would fall apart after coming out and that things might unravel in such a way that might not allow me to finish the video. And I really wanted to finish that video! So, in my head I was like, “Alright, as soon as I’m done I’m going to tell some people.” It was funny because while I was editing the video I was really stressed. I think people around me were probably like, “Damn, Tanner’s really stressing about this video shit.” But I was mainly just tripping on this promise I had made to myself. So anyway, I finished the video, drove to my parents’ house, and had dinner. I stuck around all awkwardly, and my mom was eventually like, “What’s up?” And I just told her.

You talked about having some fears or anxieties after having made a promise to come out after you finished Landline. What do you think you were most worried about?

I think skateboarders and snowboarders in general are very perceptive, and I feel like I’ve always been really observant of the world around me. Ever since I was really young, it was very clear to me that being gay was not acceptable. Not just amongst snowboarders and skateboarders, but just in general. So I think a lot of my fears and anxieties about coming out were rooted in years and years of observing a world that’s inherently homophobic. When these thoughts are introduced in a young person’s mind it can really take over and grow like an uncontrollable weed. To be honest, I had fully convinced myself that I would lose my friends, my family, my job. I was tripping on everything (laughs).

Tanner in the opening section of The Eastern Boarder Movie (2008)

You were tripping…

Yeah, I’ve been met with nothing but kindness and love since coming out. It’s even brought me so much closer to a lot of my friends. I think I’m really lucky to have such an awesome family and group of friends. But also over the years, I’ve sort of gravitated towards a group of people that are more progressive and would be accepting of that. I think it’s really important in someone’s journey to coming out to separate yourself physically and mentally from people that may not accept you or want to harm you. A lot of people don’t have a supportive family or may feel stuck in unhealthy social circles so it’s tough—I feel really lucky.

Was there anyone in particular that you thought wasn’t going to be okay with it, but they were?

There are definitely some friends that, over the years, I would hear them say negative things about gay people. But you know, at their core I knew that they were really sweet people—otherwise I think I would have distanced myself from them. It’s almost like I knew that their comments were coming from a place of personal insecurity or something, so I let them slide. But nonetheless, coming out to a person like that is definitely scary. But to be honest with you, I didn’t really make a point of telling that many people. I kind of just told a handful of people, and I told them, “You don’t need to keep this secret.”

I reached out to some people you’re close with in case there’s anything I wouldn’t think to ask or don’t even know to. Jake Kuzyk wanted to ask, “Did burying yourself in your work help you get through any hard times you had with all this? Do you think that you might have used it as a way to prove your own self-worth in some ways?”

Yeah. This is terrible, but my whole life I sort of felt like being gay was a problem. Like it was a defect of mine. To compensate for that, I always felt like I needed to go the extra mile in everything. If I’m snowboarding, I need to be going bigger or faster. And if I’m creating something like a video or whatever, I just need to be so on point that nobody could ever say that I didn’t go above and beyond and make the best thing possible. It’s kind of a blessing and a curse, really. It even extends to funny scenarios… Like I’d be dead-tired driving the van full of people on a trip, and I’d be like, “I can’t stop driving because I can’t be the gay guy that can’t drive.” So I would try to prove my self-worth in little ways like that. And I would think to myself, “When I come out, these guys are going to remember, I drove the van the whole way!” So silly looking back on moments like that (laughs). In a way I’m kind of grateful though, because it pushed me to work super hard and receive some forms of validation—which I used to protect myself. For example, I’d be like, “Well, yeah, maybe I’m gay, but I’m a good snowboarder.” And then as I started making videos, I was like “Yeah, maybe I’m gay, but I’m a good filmmaker.” It’s sort of like a shield in a sense. I’m slowly learning that I don’t need those shields to be a good person.

photo by Ian Boll

Another question from Brian Anderson: Did you hear the word ‘faggot’ a lot before you came out? Or would you just hear the normal ignorant amount? For me, it was like an alarm going off—you know, things like that and little micro-aggressions. 

Yeah, totally–I think as the years went on, and I came to accept myself, it became harder and harder to hear things like that. Even after coming out, I still see and hear things every day that are rooted in homophobia—even from my friends. 99% of the time they mean no harm, and it’s things they don’t even realize are hurtful. I get this crazy feeling in my stomach when that happens. It’s really scary how ingrained micro-aggressions are in our society. 

What exactly are micro-aggressions, for those that may not know?

Yeah, so a micro-aggression is basically a low-key jab, whether intentional or not, at marginalized groups. An obvious example would be calling something you don’t like “gay.” Or saying something along the lines of, “This spot sucks dick.” Even something as simple as asking a guy, “Do you have a girlfriend?”—assuming their sexuality is considered a micro-aggression. I know some people might think that’s overboard, but if you really think about it, what message does that tell that guy if he is gay? It tells them they are not “normal.” It may not seem like a big deal, but repeated micro-aggressions are actually really harmful and proven to be a leading cause of suicide in LGBTQ people. Also, this idea extends way beyond the LGBTQ community to women, people of color, etc. So I think micro-aggressions are really important to key in on, especially with the audience reading this interview, because they are cultural issues that you can address and make a change for the better now. I think it’s important to educate yourself on the matter and be mindful of what you are putting out in the world.

What might you say to somebody who’s scared to come out? It sounds like everyone’s situation is really different. Some people don’t have the awesome friend network or a really supportive family. What would you say to somebody that is scared to cross that bridge?

I don’t think it’s possible to understand what a closeted person is going through unless you’ve been through it yourself. So, first and foremost, I would say, “Your struggle is valid, and I’m here for you.” And if they feel like they are in a safe environment I would really encourage them to make steps in that direction. It’s so hard and scary to do, believe me. But there’s a good chance that your friends and family will greet you with open arms. And even if that isn’t the case, as heartbreaking as that would be, you will find a community of people that will love and accept you for who you are. It might even come from somewhere super unexpected, you know? That’s super hard to imagine, but it’s the truth. My DMs are open, by the way, if anyone is reading this and wants to reach out! 

photo by Cole Navin

Can you share any difficulties you may have faced as a closeted person?

Yeah… I think a lot of it stems from feeling really ashamed or scared and not having anyone to talk about it with. And the anxiety that comes along with that presents iteself in all sorts of crazy ways. I’ve sort of managed all these things throughout my life—panic attacks, crazy stomach issues, heart palpitations, and so on…Basically if you google ways that anxiety can manifest in your body I’ve experienced every one. Dude actually, even just getting sick all the time, like a lot of my friends call me bubble boy (laughs), but anxiety really messes with your immune system. Your body can’t keep up when you’re constantly putting yourself through the wringer. But really, the thing that’s super wack about being closeted is the fact that you’re not really living. It’s super hard to really connect with people, especially your family and closest friends, if you’re constantly trying to hide a piece of yourself a way. Every move you make is super calculated in an effort not to out yourself. It’s exhausting.

Tell me something that’s awesome about being gay.

Just being more and more myself everyday is awesome. I spent my whole life fighting this thing—and now I wouldn’t want it any other way. I don’t know, there’s a lot of awesome stuff, really.

Tell me a little bit about gay culture in your experience.

It’s so sick. If you look at the history of music, fashion and art, a lot of it is rooted in gay artists and culture. That’s something that I think is really amazing. Prior to coming out, I would look into musicians and artists who were gay and be like, “Damn, this is sick. All of these people are gay, and they’re pioneers of the coolest shit that I really like.” They undeniably led the charge for so many amazing things. That really inspired me and gave me confidence. Not to mention the courage they had to be themselves back then. 

Does being around other gay people allow you to be more expressive or open than you are when you’re around a bunch of snowboarders?

I feel like I’m the same Tanner, regardless of who I’m with. It’s hard to say whether or not that has to do with 30-plus years of suppressing things… I don’t know. But I will say that no matter what kind of environment you’re in, whether it’s snowboarding, or the neighborhood you grew up in, or the school you attend, society is going to try to put you into a box. If you’re a jock, you dress and act a certain way. If you’re a snowboarder, you dress and act a certain way. It’s just that way the world works. Snowboarding’s box is traditionally quite small—it doesn’t leave much room for true individuality. I think that gay people tend to reject that notion because it’s like, “Fuck that. I’ve been in that box and I don’t want to be there anymore. I’m just going to be whatever I want to be.” 

photo by Oli Gagnon

Your life when you’re out snowboarding is so different than your life in New York. Do you feel like you have to juggle different lives? Do you think those lives will converge at some point, or do you enjoy having multiple worlds that you can bounce around in?

I guess sometimes it can feel a little bit like culture shock going back and forth between the two. I really love both of those worlds for different reasons. New York is just the sickest place. I like being a part of this bigger picture that’s so much more inclusive and well-rounded compared to a lot of other places. I love the fact that you can become anonymous despite the fact that you are surrounded by so many people. But I’ve never really felt like I’ve lived two lives. Once I started dating guys, I pretty much told my immediate friend group right away. I was only really running around in secrecy for a month or so, and it was really stressful (laughs). The opening party for Being Green was really cool because it was the first time all these worlds really collided for me. My boyfriend was there, my New York friends were there, my family was there, and some of my closest friends from snowboarding were there! It was really special.

Why do you think there are no out male pro snowboarders?

I think it comes down to the fact that if you’re closeted, that shit’s scary. Like I told you, I was convinced that when I came out my whole world would fall apart. So, if you’re a pro snowboarder, and that’s your passion, your livelihood—of course you are going to hide something like that away. Especially when it has never been a part of the dialogue in our little world. I think that’s all going to change really soon. This week should be exciting! There is a budding community of queer people in snowboarding…

photo by Cole Navin

What could change in the snowboard industry that might make it a more inviting and safer place for LGBTQ people?

To me, that’s the main reason why I wanted to do this. I think every coming out story is valid and pushes things in the right direction. So far in “extreme sports” the narrative tends to be, “It’s okay to be queer as long as you rip and present as masculine.” I think the more stories we hear, the closer that narrative moves to, “It’s okay to be queer, because it’s okay to be queer!”. We’re seeing this more and more in skating and it’s amazing. So personally, I feel propelled to do something because I feel like it’s a step in the right direction for our little community. If this was a part of the conversation when I was a kid, it would have changed my life. I think the snowboarding community as a whole should really take a step back and ask themselves, “What is it about our community that’s keeping people from being themselves? Are we really encouraging and uplifting people’s differences?” This extends beyond LGBTQ+ people and should also include women, people of color, or any marginalized group. Snowboarding needs these people! It’s so stale. Snowboarding also needs an older generation that they can look up to. Bryan Iguchi is someone I really look up to and is a shining example of that! But then you have someone like Terje Haakonsen who consistently says wack shit about gay people, yet the snowboard community at large—specifically his sponsors—doesn’t hold him accountable. This sends a heartbreaking message to gay people in snowboarding, especially those that might be closeted. Just because someone is good at snowboarding, it doesn’t make them a good role model. This aspect has gone largely unconsidered in snowboarding, and it shows. But I think change starts in very small pockets and grows from there. Anyone who has made it this far in the interview likely wants to support this change. So, take some time and educate yourself on the matter, implement change in your local crew or community, and good things will come!

Anything else? 

Just want to say thanks to anyone reading. I’m so appreciative for the friends and experiences I’ve had through snowboarding—love you all ☺


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