This month, Skateistan introduced me to their community as a Citizen of Skateistan. It felt like a full-circle moment, so here's the story.
Kabul, around 2008
Skateistan started on the streets of Kabul in 2008 with a simple idea: give kids a skateboard and a reason to show up, then use that time for education too. I was one of the first experienced skaters to go out and help, around 2008 to 2009, before the Kabul skatepark was built. We worked on building it and skated with the kids every day. I went back later, and some of that time ended up in the documentary Skateistan: Four Wheels and a Board in Kabul (2011). Since then I've also visited Skateistan's centres in Johannesburg and Phnom Penh.
When the film screened in the US, I couldn't go. I didn't get the visa. That one still stings a bit, but it says a lot about who gets to tell skateboarding's story and who doesn't.
The film
Skateistan: Four Wheels and a Board in Kabul is a 95-minute documentary directed by Kai Sehr, produced by Rene Kock and edited by Nadia Soraya Hennrich. It follows Oliver Percovich and the kids of Kabul, from a dry fountain used as a ramp to the push to build a proper skatepark and school, with the city's war, poverty and divisions all around them.
Louisa Menke, Cairo Foster, Kenny Reed and I were the visiting skaters in it. Juice Magazine called us the first professional skateboarders to visit Afghanistan.
- Won Most Valuable Documentary at Cinema for Peace, Berlin, 2011
- Screened at IDFA in Amsterdam, 2011
- In cinemas in Hamburg, Düsseldorf and San Francisco in November 2012, then released online in the US
John Anderson at Variety called it inspirational. Stacy Peralta said the Afghan kids reminded him why he's skated his whole life. Not everyone loved it: Cult MTL said it rambled into a travelogue about the visiting pros, but still called it "a human view of a misunderstood country."
Watch it: GuideDoc or Alchemiya. Availability depends on where you are, so check where to watch.
What it taught me
Kabul showed me what skateboarding does when you take everything else away. No shops, no brands, no scene. Just concrete and kids who wanted to roll. The board was the excuse. The community was the point.
"I cannot imagine a world without Skateistan. The time I spent with you in Kabul has shaped me in more ways than I can count. I carry your values and apply them to my skate shop and community. Your work matters and trickles down to communities everywhere."
That's the same idea behind Habibi. We give back where we can: boards to the Lebanese Skateboarding Association, support for Pakistan's first skatepark in Lahore, a deck with Seven Hills in Jordan that funded their free programs. And it's the idea behind Gooder: a free park where a six-year-old on their first day shares the space with skaters who've been at it for decades.
What a Citizen of Skateistan is
Citizens of Skateistan back Skateistan's work with children and youth through skateboarding and education, from as little as $1 a month. Today they reach over 10,000 people in more than 50 locations across five continents. If skating has given you anything, this is a pretty good way to pass it on.
Become a Citizen at skateistan.org
Come say hi
Want to hear the full story? Come skate at Gooder, Alserkal Avenue. I'm usually around the shop.
– Maysam
Images: Skateistan.
