By Toby Brockelbank & Mykhaylo Tevkun

Stake and Destroy

Most of the reason I was stoked on this job was to write about the skate scene, share cool shit I thought was going down in our world of grinds and flips, and convince at least one of you readers to snap your tail into an Ollie. I cannot verbalise my love for skateboarding. My board is my soulmate. Its contours and textures are my world. Skateboarding taught me everything; skateboarding taught me how to live and to feel alive. Before I skated, I was a pretty antisocial kid, I was unhappy as fuck, and did absolutely no exercise. My brother, Oscar, (who I have to thank for half the interviews in this) – he gives me some street cred in the OG Palmy scene – he gave me my first board in primary school. A camo Zoo York deck with gold trucks. I used to make my mum drop me off a couple blocks from school so I could roll past my peers and they’d think I skated all the way to school. My dad used to take me to the skatepark, I remember teens offering me cigarettes and 20 somethings teaching me how to control the board. I skated with Dan Hawthorne, a best mate of mine, a bit in middle school but it pissed me off that he was better than me. It wasn’t until year 10 when a homie of mine to this day, Pierce Winter, who’s in some of Lans’ pics, took me to the skatepark that I got back into it and dedicated my mind, soul, and flesh to the board. That first time I went back to the park in years, I got punched in the head for making this year 12 look like an idiot to some girl he was chatting up – he was a fucking idiot. But I went back.

I’ve seen some gnarly shit at skateparks, like that time a middle school aged kid at mlv skatepark had a shank to some old lady, and I’ve split my chin open and concussed myself there. But I’ve met more people, from so many fucking backgrounds and such differing characters, that I ever would of through anything else. That’s whats cool about such a public hobby. Whether it’s the skatepark or the streets, you’re among the grime of our society and find a place where no one is better or worse than anyone else. Skating taught me how to make friends and chill with strangers, how to problem solve, how to get back up when your elbow, wrist, and shoulder are bleeding, and how to be creative and express. I fucking promise you I would not have the privilege of working in a creative field like writing if it wasn’t for the six months it took me to Ollie. Skating has saved my mental health time and time again by being an outlet there for me to tune out the noise, get into the flow state, and feel the bliss of a 50-50 grind.

Shoutout to my brothers Oscar and Nic, Dan, Pierce, Levi, Charles, Corbin, Ethan, cheese and crackers (skaters like nicknames), Dante, Olivia, Kyuss, Vaughn, Jack, Max, Levi, Caleb, and everyone else who taught me to skate and messaged me to get off my ass and jam the mini ramp with them. Shoutout all the skaters, from Aotearoa and across the world, who agreed to work with us on this issue. Special thanks to Paul O’Connor, a skater who teaches sociology and writes about skating at an academic level, for his article in the mag but also introducing me to the world of thinkers who spend their scholarly lives talking about skateboarding. Without Paul’s help, I wouldn’t have known Patrick to write with me for the Uganda Skate Society article, and I wouldn’t know that our UoW was globally known for its research on lifestyle and action sports. Holly Thorpe and Belinda Wheaton to name a couple current staff, and Nida Ahmad and Neftalie Williams to name some alumni.

Before we get amongst it, I want to hand over to Mykhaylo Tevkun of Skate Ukraine so you can understand what the fuck we are actually on about in this issue.

Skate and Destroy isn’t about vandalism or tearing things down just for the sake of it. It’s a mindset. It’s about breaking down the limits that society, the city, or even your own mind puts on you. We take something ordinary – set of stairs, a ledge, an abandoned parking lot- we ‘destroy’ the way it was meant to be used, reinventing it into something that inspires creativity and freedom.

The original 1980s motor by Thrasher magazine was a countercultural rallying cry, a way to reject the sanitised, commercial version of skateboarding and embrace the raw, DIY spirit of the streets. Over time, it’s evolved. In Ukraine, for me and many skaters I know, it’s not about destruction for destruction’s sake—it’s about tearing down barriers, whether they’re physical, mental, or cultural.

So yes, it’s rebellion—but it’s a rebellion that builds. Every time we skate, we ‘destroy’ the old rules and create something that’s ours.