As a photographer, I am drawn to diverse people, an unpredictable atmosphere, and unique subcultures. Such is the place of Skateland USA in Greenville, South Carolina. There is no subculture quite like it: kids six to fifteen years old dropped off by their parents every Friday night for four hours of skating, cussing, arcade-gaming, pizza consuming, girl-shoving, adolescent fun.

I first became drawn to the place in the spring of 2007 when I went with some friends from Furman. Immediately, I noticed the opportunity to photograph untapped subject matter. The lighting is dramatic: disco balls, strobe lights, black lights, spot lights. The décor is tragic: greasy confetti carpet from 1985, puke-orange concession tables, and multi-colored walls dulled by years of sweat and wear. And the drama is an eerie magic.

In the beginning of the documentary, I had some preconceived notions of what I would find. Given the demographic of the surrounding community and my previous experience with roller skating rinks, I figured I would discover a darker side of adolescent culture in a lower socioeconomic class. I thought I might stumble upon dramatic middle school girls, young racists, sexually promiscuous behavior, kids with broken families. Essentially, I thought I would find children slowly being robbed of innocence.

The reality of the environment is not too far off from this. Alongside the skating rink are amassed huddles of fourteen-year-old girls crying because a boyfriend of three hours had some other girl’s name written on his hand. Some kids dress color-coordinated, as if part of some kind of kiddies gang. Nine-year-old couples make out near the footlockers. I talked to child after child about stepparents and ex-stepparents, dead mothers, and drunken fathers.

Though, my goal was not to pity these children, or to produce a social commentary on how dark and hopeless this generation was. I wanted to avoid biases. Obviously, given my presumptions, I was initially drawn to photographing these darker aspects of the skating rink. But the entire project spanned over four months, and in that time I inevitably gathered a diverse project by varying the way in which I shot, varying the way I gathered information, not concentrating on one area, gender, or demographic in the skating rink.

While gathering information from the kids through talking, hanging out, and photography, I came upon another idea. I knew I wanted personal and permanent ways to get to know these kids lives. So, I had many of them write short entries in a small journal about the Skateland, what their school is like, stories about their families, and what they like to do for fun, and so on. They wrote about girlfriends, best friends, learning how to dance, and fights.

Amidst the hurt I would feel for these kids, I never left the skating rink without laughing at least once, and smiling at the reality that these were just kids. There is so much hope to find in their reckless and unguarded joy for life and love. I saw the camera and my time spent at Skateland USA as a different way to offer them worth. And while I wanted to take photographs, the camera became more or less just an excuse for me to be there. I tried to always keep my photography secondary to the relationships with kids. Some Friday nights I would only take 50 frames in the entire two or three hours there, just because it was more important to listen and talk to these kids about their week, and watch them interact with each other than to take their picture. And when I was taking portraits, I would try to remember to show them. You could watch a smile of shy satisfaction come over their face, as they felt for maybe only a moment, that they were a celebrity.

The last few months have taken me into a subculture most people don’t know exists, and far fewer have photographed. I feel kind of special to have been a part of so many wonderful peoples lives, able to pray for them, encourage them, give them someone to talk to, and let them impress me and my camera with all their crazy break-dance skating tricks. Through these images and stories, I was able to produce what I feel a very unbiased, thorough documentary that includes not only the brokenness of such an environment, but also a hope in the reckless and unguarded joy of adolescence, provided we understand their fragility and willingness to be cared for.
 

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Sports/recreation, Youth, Love, Hate, The human condition, Fear, Community

Skateland USA -- Greenville, SC

Brian Tropiano is a freelance photographer based out of Washington, DC, and is available for travel worldwide.

brian@briantropianophoto.com
www.briantropianophoto.com
btropiano.blogspot.com
678-571-6305