Raising the Next Generation: Junior Derby

Junior roller derby makes me happy. I mean, really happy.

Copyright TORD

Last Monday, I NSO'd a juniors low-contact scrimmage and had the most fun I've had at a bout in ages. The players ranged in age from nine to seventeen and had varied skill-levels. And they were dressed as zombies. Whether we were hurriedly gesturing to a skater that they couldn't skate clockwise to the penalty box or cheering on pre-teen jammers, NSOing was a real treat not just because the players were adorable but because the whole event was centered on fun. Players apologized when they got penalties. Parents cheered on their daughters. The (amazing) Juniors head, Bride of BreakinSpine, handed out candy to everyone after the scrimmage. It tasted like a victory for our girls and a victory for derby as a whole.

And low-contact recreational derby isn't the only way to go. Options to play competitively and recreationally, full or low contact should always exist because junior derby isn't just an activity but an opportunity. And the more accessible we make that opportunity, the better we serve our girls. Starting young has a number of benefits: it provides girls with physical activity and helps build healthy habits at a young age. The skaters who start young learn faster and better than many adults could. At this stage in life, junior derby can significantly help raise skaters to the level they'll need to play with adults. Your coach today might be your team-mate tomorrow. Your hero might sit beside you on the bench. If it takes a community to raise a child, a derby community is as good as any.

Even more importantly, junior derby in all its varieties gives girls an opportunity to play in a body-positive, feminist space. If I had had that kind of space when I needed it, who knows how much stronger I would be now?

I have to admit that I lean towards recreational junior derby specifically because it makes it easier to maintain that body-positive, fun space. I've been to hockey games and baseball games where parents hurled abuse at kids who weren't playing perfectly and quite frankly I think we have a responsibility to let kids play without those pressures. Those will certainly come in time and the best we can prepare tomorrow's adults is by letting them be kids for now. Positive play experiences teach kids and they teach us too.

Watching those skaters on Monday I was reminded of what I really love about derby: the self-guided challenge, the roars of support from your team, the positivity and community that roller derby can bring to what used to just be a room. Whatever kind of junior derby they play, we have a lot we can learn from our girls while we teach them, while we prepare them to be the next generation of the sport

Copright JRDA

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Looking at LOCO: Considering a Young Derby League

Officially founded in London, Ontario in 2010, LOCO Roller Derby is a low-cost, low-contact, low-commitment league intended for players who love the sport of derby, but find participating in competitive full-contact derby untenable. I joined LOCO pretty early, in the autumn of 2010. My attendance has been pretty spotty amidst efforts to finish my Master's, start my PhD and handle my anxiety in the almost two years since. At the same time, it's been a bit like seeing a really young cousin sporadically at family events - every time you look they're bigger and more complex.

Starting with original London league, LOCO has since expanded to four chapters, including Stratford, Kitchener, and Brantford. During one of this blog's occasional periods of radio silence, they also added a full-contact chapter, the Violet Femmes. Even more recently, LOCO has starting hosting Juniors practices for skaters under 18. Every time I come back (usually bent from carrying a backpack full of books), it's grown.

It's been tempting to identify personally with LOCO's growth - when I started wobbling across the  gym floor on borrowed skates, LOCO was at a temporary home due to construction at our downtown YMCA. It had a relatively small number of players at practices. It didn't have much contact with other leagues. Now that I'm (finally) reading up on the rules and training as a ref, the league has multiple weekly practices, four chapters, multiple practice venues, several charity events and inter-league bouts under its belt, a huge increase in its membership and all in all, a lot to be proud of. Since I learned to skate backwards, LOCO's been featured in Hit and Miss magazine as well as in newspapers and on television. LOCO isn't just a league - it's a mindset regarding how everyone deserves access to the sport, regardless of schedule, finances or athletic ability. People with the time, money and talent to play full-contact can (and do, still within the league), but the rest of us aren't an after-thought. We're a family.

When I look at this picture on the LOCO website, taken in the league's early days, I see skaters who have moved on to other leagues as the result of moves and skaters who I just haven't seen in person lately or I never got a chance to know. But I also see skaters who have taken breaks from derby and returned, skaters who have continued to volunteer as leaders within the league's administration and, personally, I see a spot for me and for all the players who have joined since that picture was taken.

Naturally, there are places, both literal and metaphorical, that I would love to see LOCO go. I would love to see us have a permanent practice space more directly under our control, providing increased skating time to our league-members. I would love to see us expand to other cities so women who thought roller derby couldn't be a part of their lives can hit the track instead. I would love to see us make more connections with other leagues and build up our in-house teams. We need more referees. We need to find a way to better enable financially-strapped skaters with aid. An online forum for skaters would be sweet. But we're a healthy league powered by a lot of passion. We will find a way to make these things happen.

In the mean time, if you're interested in getting LOCO in your city, check out our organizational structure and master manual, then contact us through the LOCO site.

Derby and Privilege

Derby is a study in contrasts. Gear and skates are potentially very expensive, and the game  needs room, which usually costs money. Yet it's not an elitist sport. Some leagues sponsor players for costs and basically every league has spare gear. I myself still have gear in my closet that rightly belongs to my friend Knuckle Slamwitch (of the Rollergettes). And girls will skate in sheds. They'll skate in parking lots. Give us a flat surface and we'll roll.

Derby as a sport seems to be considered something fairly without airs. We make beer-can pyramids for chicks to crash into, we value a girl's strength, speed and teamwork over wherever she comes from. That, I think, is the real reason we take derby names, because theoretically, we leave our history and privilege behind when we get on the track.

But it isn't that simple. When they're off-skate, players have widely varying opportunities to access the time and money the sport requires. I think it's the leagues we need to look to to make derby more accessible, because players are at their strongest when they work together. Time, cost and finding space are the three prime difficulties of derby, I think. And we surmount these problems by working together.

The time commitment, of course, is one of the differences between full-contact derby and low-contact derby. It's one of the reasons low-contact derby exists. Women who love the sport but can't commit to the practice schedule - for whatever reason, be it financial, personal or aught else - that full-contact requires still deserve to play.

And players who experience financial barriers deserve to play, too. Every serious sport has costs, some might say. Equipment adds up. That's true. But if derby is going to to get stronger, it needs to be more accessible. This, I think, is something both full and low-contact leagues can address. Sponsoring charities and doing community work is one of the great things about being in a derby league, but I think we should sponsor our players as well.

Having equipment is part of it. Having good equipment available in the bin is better, however. To be accessible, leagues need more spare gear and better spare gear. We should, at the very least, encourage players to donate their old gear and naturally, this option becomes more viable as a league matures. But leagues should be proactive about this as well. Buying gear specifically for the borrowing bin should be a priority. Not just yard-sale skates, of which there are some real terrors, but solid, entry-level skates and protective gear without the wear that puts players who have to borrow potentially at risk. They might be wearing something that needs to be fixed or thrown out because it's all the league can provide for them. Everyone deserves to skate safely, regardless of financial status.

I'm aware that leagues, especially young leagues have to watch their funds very carefully. But one extra fund-raising event a year (Pin the Skates on the Derby Girl!) could outfit players who will make the league stronger, who will bring in more funds and attendees at bouts once they have a chance. We could do skateathons, we could do a charity bar night (Don't Play Derby Naked!-themed, even), we could charge one dollar extra at bouts and tell the crowd exactly where that money is going.  Players are the lifeblood of the sport, after all. I believe that derby players can take care of each other. The more we do so, the stronger we are.

Space, of course, is a difficulty faced primarily by the league rather than by individual players. Short of having space donated, it costs money. Even when a league has the players and practice fees available to make up the cost, even finding space can be a problem. Because of it's relatively nascent status as a sport, we lack the numbers and reputation that would mean we can assume, the way a hockey player could, that space can be found. This is a derby barrier that really only gets fixed with time and effort on the part of the league and the volunteers that make it run.

This brings me back to my admittedly slightly starry-eyed vision of derby players doing it for themselves. Our leagues run on volunteers, our leagues run on women  and men donating their time and money to make the sport grow. League execs and volunteers do a lot - what we need to do is encourage and create opportunities to do more, share more of our talents and time in order to support the sport, to outfit players, to keep derby strong.