On my first day of skiing, my dad and I took a day trip to the closest ski resort. I was maybe 9 years old, it was a tough day of lessons and challenging my dad’s patience. Over the next few years, I became more confident day trip by day trip. We only went 2 or three times a year; by the time I was 15 or 16, I began to understand why skiing was so important to my dad and why we dedicated entire days of exhaustion on the slopes.
I loved the feeling: the fear, the courage, the relief when you overcome icy conditions and feeling the speed coming out of a turn. I grew up skiing in Virginia, so the conditions were never great, and the window when it was cold enough to keep snow on the mountain was only a few months. It was not the glamourous après ski experience that was idealized in the ’70s. There was no fresh powder, no cliffs to jump off, and no backcountry to traverse. I was also not a ski prodigy, like absolutely nowhere close to it. I still catch edges and tumble. That’s a big part of riding and makes the great moments worth it on the mountain.
After a few years of skiing, I made the switch to snowboarding. It was then that I realized that skiing was so much more to me than just a way to hang out with my dad. Once I got older and could drive myself, I made the day trips by myself. None of my friends or family really understood why I enjoyed snowboarding so I made the trips myself. It became my quality time. It was sacred time, meditative, and time just for me.
Snowboarding is a really big part of my life. Most of my friends that I have made in college ski or snowboard, or at least want to learn. I worked at a ski shop last winter selling gear and setting up rentals. There is something special about those days spent on the mountain and the sacrifice it takes to get there.
In the words of, the author of Powder Days, Heather Hansman, “How is everyone not doing this [skiing]?”
As much as I encourage everyone around me to meet me on the slopes, there are very real barriers to accessing the slopes.
Skiing is a sacrifice that is different for everyone. It is often what limits people to come out on the slopes. Skiing is expensive, risky, and takes years to get the hang of. The second biggest expense is just getting on the slopes and having a place to stay. The absolute biggest expense is the risk of skiing. Risk is more than a financial burden; it is the chance that you could be putting the other parts of your life in jeopardy. Can you afford to receive care for a broken wrist, or worse a life-changing injury? Most people are not willing to put their livelihood on the line for a day of fun.
The ability to ski is an extreme privilege. There are so many costs to get on the mountain: thousands of dollars for equipment, special clothing, and hundreds to get on the slopes. Barriers like cost, risk, and gaps in generational knowledge limit the sport itself.
I carry the privilege of being taught the mountain and safe ways to navigate it. I have the privilege of a supportive family financially and emotionally. I have the privilege of being a white person among an almost completely homogeneous racial population on the slopes in America. My privilege is simply being able to ski at all. For me, skiing is more a choice than it is a sacrifice at all.
As much as I enjoy skiing and the way it has improved my life, my privilege allows me to be blind to the exclusivity of the sport. Resorts negatively impact the environment with energy and water consumption. Ski resorts also have a history of exploiting public lands and exploiting the land of indigenous people. For example, the ski resort, “Squaw Valley,” home to the 1960 Winter Olympics was renamed “Palisades Tahoe.” It was renamed only in 2021. I believe that skiers are becoming more aware of their bias and the privileges that white skiers carry. We have so far to go and we are far behind in inclusivity.
As someone who grew up going skiing with my family, I didn’t recognize the privilege that comes with skiing because all my family members ski and have been for generations. I had not realized the barriers that have surrounded this sport, preventing many people from participating. Thank you for sharing your own experience with skiing and shedding light on both the privilege and biases of this activity.
I really enjoyed reading your article. I started snowboarding again in my 40s. I think that part of privilege is that we’re taught to only look at those who are even more privliged than we are. I talked with a guy today on a mountain in New York who grew up in easy L.A. and is now enjoying life in a way that he never imagined he would. I love this sport and I appreciate the miracle that it is. Keep fighting the good fight.