Education, Faculty of
Kinesiology, School of
DSpace
UBCV
Dean, Nikolaus Alexander
Doctor of Philosophy - PhD
University of British Columbia
This dissertation research project explored physically disabled skateboarders’ and wheelchair motocross (WCMX) riders’ experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Using (digital) qualitative methods, this project examined 30 physically disabled riders’ experiences within three different “skate spaces” 1) the skateboarding (sub)culture, 2) the digital space of Instagram, and 3) material spaces (skateparks and the streets). Situating this work in Critical Disability Studies, findings illustrated how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may offer disabled individuals a range of health benefits including enhanced physical and mental health and a myriad of social benefits including improved self-confidence and independence, expanded social networks, and greater sense of community and belonging. Findings also highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may allow disabled riders the opportunity to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about disability. Despite these benefits, however, findings also illuminated how larger social, cultural, political, economic, and structural forces may influence disabled riders’ participation in different sporting milieus. This study contributes to literature on action sports, disability sport, and the sociology of sport and highlight both the benefits and challenges of participation in adaptive action sports for physically disabled people.
A SOCIOCULTURAL ANALYSIS OF ADAPTIVE SKATEBOARDING AND WHEELCHAIR MOTOCROSS by Nikolaus Alexander Dean B.A., The University of Lethbridge, 2015 M.A., The University of British Columbia, 2018 A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in The Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies (Kinesiology) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) December 2023 © Nikolaus Alexander Dean, 2023 ii The following individuals certify that they have read, and recommend to the Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies for acceptance, the dissertation entitled: A Sociocultural Analysis of Adaptive Skateboarding and Wheelchair Motocross submitted by Nikolaus Alexander Dean in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Kinesiology Examining Committee: Andrea Bundon, Assistant Professor, School of Kinesiology, UBC Supervisor Deirdre Kelly, Professor, Department of Educational Studies, UBC Supervisory Committee Member Brian Wilson, Professor, School of Kinesiology, UBC Supervisory Committee Member Patricia Vertinsky, Professor, School of Kinesiology, UBC University Examiner Ben Mortenson, Professor, Occupational Science & Occupational Therapy, UBC University Examiner Bryan Clift, Senior Lecturer, Department for Health, University of Bath External Examiner Additional Supervisory Committee Members: Moss Norman, Associate Professor, School of Kinesiology, UBC Supervisory Committee Member iii Abstract This dissertation research project explored physically disabled skateboarders’ and wheelchair motocross (WCMX) riders’ experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Using (digital) qualitative methods, this project examined 30 physically disabled riders’ experiences within three different “skate spaces” 1) the skateboarding (sub)culture, 2) the digital space of Instagram, and 3) material spaces (skateparks and the streets). Situating this work in Critical Disability Studies, findings illustrated how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may offer disabled individuals a range of health benefits including enhanced physical and mental health and a myriad of social benefits including improved self-confidence and independence, expanded social networks, and greater sense of community and belonging. Findings also highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may allow disabled riders the opportunity to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about disability. Despite these benefits, however, findings also illuminated how larger social, cultural, political, economic, and structural forces may influence disabled riders’ participation in different sporting milieus. This study contributes to literature on action sports, disability sport, and the sociology of sport and highlight both the benefits and challenges of participation in adaptive action sports for physically disabled people. iv Lay Summary This study explored physically disabled skateboarders’ and wheelchair motocross (WCMX) riders’ experiences within the skateboarding community. Findings from the study highlighted how participation in skateboarding and WCMX may offer physically disabled people a range of benefits including improved mental and physical health, enhanced self-confidence and independence, expanded social networks, and a greater sense of community and belonging. However, despite this potential, findings also illustrated how larger social, cultural, political, economic, and structural forces like gender, social class, and inaccessible designs may influence physically disabled riders’ participation in different skateboard spaces. Findings from this study highlight the benefits and challenges of participation in informal, adaptive sports for physically disabled people. v Preface This dissertation is the original independent work by the author, Nikolaus Alexander Dean. This research was approved by the Behavioural Research Ethics Board at The University of British Columbia (Project title: A Sociological Exploration of Adaptive Skateboarding and Skateboarders with Disabilities. Certificate Number: H21-01845, Principal Investigator: Dr. Andrea Bundon). Work from this dissertation has not been previously published, but some aspects of the research project (including participant quotes) have appeared in publications: Dean, N. A. & Bundon, A. (2023). Social media post-elicitation in participatory research. In K. Rich, R. Smith, & A. Giles (Eds.), Participatory research in sport and exercise. Routledge. In this book chapter, my supervisor, Dr. Andrea Bundon, and I provided an example of the method, social media post-elicitation, in practice and provided an example of how the method was used to collect data in this dissertation research project. Content from Chapter 3 and Chapter 7 are featured in this book chapter publication. Dean, N. A. & Bundon, A. (2023). The body and sport. In W. Bridel & M. Clark (Eds.), Social issues in Canadian sport. Human Kinetics Canada. In this book chapter, my supervisor, Dr. Andrea Bundon, and I used some of the findings highlighted in Chapter 5 to discuss the application of theory to a topic. vi Table of Contents Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... iii Lay Summary ................................................................................................................................ iv Preface ............................................................................................................................................. v Table of Contents .......................................................................................................................... vi List of Tables ............................................................................................................................... viii List of Figures ................................................................................................................................ ix Acknowledgments .......................................................................................................................... x Dedication .................................................................................................................................... xiv Chapter 1: Introduction ................................................................................................................ 1 1.1 THE AH-HA MOMENT ......................................................................................................................................... 1 1.2 THE DISSERTATION PROJECT ............................................................................................................................ 3 1.3 DISSERTATION OUTLINE .................................................................................................................................... 4 1.4 KEY TERMS AND DEFINITIONS ........................................................................................................................... 6 Chapter 2: Theoretical Perspectives and Literature Review ................................................... 14 2.1 INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................................................................. 14 2.2 THEORETICAL PERSPECTIVES ......................................................................................................................... 14 2.2.1 Critical Disability Studies ......................................................................................................................... 14 2.2.2 Intersectionality ........................................................................................................................................ 21 2.2.3 Posthumanism .......................................................................................................................................... 22 2.3 LITERATURE REVIEW ....................................................................................................................................... 24 2.3.1 Action Sports, Skateboarding, and The Skateboarding (Sub)culture .................................................... 24 2.3.2 Adaptive Skateboarding and WCMX ....................................................................................................... 29 2.3.3 Sociocultural Analyses of Skateboarding and The Skateboarding (Sub)culture .................................. 33 2.3.4 Disability Sport, Physical Activity, and Leisure ...................................................................................... 44 2.4 RESEARCH GAPS AND POTENTIAL RESEARCH CONTRIBUTIONS ................................................................... 58 Chapter 3: Methodology.............................................................................................................. 59 3.1 INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................................................................. 59 3.2 ONTOLOGICAL AND EPISTEMOLOGICAL POSITIONS ...................................................................................... 59 3.3 INSIDER/ OUTSIDER STATUS............................................................................................................................. 63 3.4 METHOD ............................................................................................................................................................ 66 3.4.1 Participant Recruitment ........................................................................................................................... 66 3.4.2 Demographic Questionnaire .................................................................................................................... 69 3.4.3 Semi-Structured Interviews ...................................................................................................................... 70 3.4.4 Social Media Post-Elicitation ................................................................................................................... 71 3.4.5 Reflexive Fieldnotes ................................................................................................................................. 74 3.5 PARTICIPANTS ................................................................................................................................................... 75 3.6 DATA ANALYSIS ................................................................................................................................................ 80 3.6.1 The Dataset ............................................................................................................................................... 80 3.6.2 Reflexive Thematic Analysis .................................................................................................................... 80 3.7 ETHICAL TENSIONS AND CONSIDERATIONS .................................................................................................... 86 3.7.1 Participant Confidentiality ....................................................................................................................... 86 3.7.2 Insider Status and Positionality ............................................................................................................... 87 Chapter 4: (Sub)cultural Spaces................................................................................................. 93 4.1 INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................................................................. 93 4.2 DISABLED PEOPLES’ PARTICIPATION IN ADAPTIVE SKATEBOARDING AND WCMX.................................... 93 vii 4.2.1 Freedom, Creativity, and Accessibility ..................................................................................................... 93 4.2.2 Adrenaline Rush and Ability to Push Yourself ....................................................................................... 97 4.2.3 Inspired by Disabled Riders ..................................................................................................................... 98 4.2.4 From Mobility Aid to Sporting Pursuit .................................................................................................. 100 4.3. DISABLED RIDERS’ EXPERIENCES WITHIN THE SKATEBOARDING (SUB)CULTURE ................................... 101 4.3.1 Supportive and Inclusive Community .................................................................................................... 101 4.3.2 Health Benefits ....................................................................................................................................... 107 4.3.3 Enhance Skills, Confidence and Independence .................................................................................... 108 4.3.4 Challenge Negative Perceptions of Disability ....................................................................................... 109 4.4. DISCUSSION .................................................................................................................................................... 110 4.6 CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................................................... 119 Chapter 5: Digital Spaces .......................................................................................................... 121 5.1 INTRODUCTION ............................................................................................................................................... 121 5.2 DISABLED RIDERS’ ENGAGEMENTS WITH INSTAGRAM ................................................................................ 121 5.2.1 Attractive and Accessible ........................................................................................................................ 122 5.2.2 Connect with and Learn from Disabled Riders ..................................................................................... 125 5.2.3 Generate Disability Visibility and Awareness........................................................................................ 127 5.2.4 Promote and Secure Sponsors ............................................................................................................... 129 5.2.5 Negative Experiences ............................................................................................................................. 130 5.3 DISCUSSION ..................................................................................................................................................... 133 5.4 DISABLED RIDERS’ PORTRAYALS ON INSTAGRAM ....................................................................................... 141 5.4.1 Skill and Progress ................................................................................................................................... 141 5.4.2 Motivation and Inspiration .................................................................................................................... 144 5.4.3 Community, Mentorship, and Support .................................................................................................. 146 5.4.4 Risk-Taking Behaviours ......................................................................................................................... 148 5.5 DISCUSSION ..................................................................................................................................................... 151 5.6 CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................................................... 157 Chapter 6: Material Spaces....................................................................................................... 158 6.1 INTRODUCTION ............................................................................................................................................... 158 6.2 NAVIGATING MATERIAL SKATE SPACES ....................................................................................................... 158 6.3 ACCESSIBLE SKATE SPACES AND DESIGNS.................................................................................................... 161 6.4 DIY PRACTICES, ADAPTIVE TOOLS, AND ASSISTIVE TECHNOLOGIES ........................................................ 168 6.5 BARRIERS AND INACCESSIBLE SKATE SPACES .............................................................................................. 173 6.6 DISCUSSION ..................................................................................................................................................... 178 6.7 CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................................................... 188 Chapter 7: Conclusion ............................................................................................................... 190 7.1 INTRODUCTION ............................................................................................................................................... 190 7.2 SUMMARY OF KEY FINDINGS ......................................................................................................................... 190 7.3 RESEARCH CONTRIBUTIONS .......................................................................................................................... 197 7.4 LIMITATIONS AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS ....................................................................................................... 202 7.5 FINAL THOUGHTS ........................................................................................................................................... 208 References ................................................................................................................................... 210 Appendices .................................................................................................................................. 237 APPENDIX A: DIGITAL RESEARCH RECRUITMENT POSTER............................................................................... 238 APPENDIX B: LETTER OF INTRODUCTION ........................................................................................................... 239 APPENDIX C: CONSENT FORM ............................................................................................................................. 240 APPENDIX D: BASIC DEMOGRAPHIC QUESTIONNAIRE ....................................................................................... 242 APPENDIX E: INTERVIEW PROTOCOL ................................................................................................................. 244 APPENDIX F: INSTAGRAM POST........................................................................................................................... 246 APPENDIX G: INSTAGRAM POST ANALYSIS ........................................................................................................ 247 viii List of Tables Table 1: Participant Demographic Data……………………………………………………….76 Table 2: Participant Social Media Use………………………………………………………...78 ix List of Figures Figure 1: WCMX Rider Performing Grind………………………………………………….141 Figure 2: Disabled Skateboarder Doing a 360……..……………………………………......142 Figure 3: Disabled Skateboarder Doing a Kickflip…………………………………….……142 Figure 4: Disabled Skateboarder Doing a Tail Stall………………………………….……..143 Figure 5: Disabled Riders Celebrating X Games Podium……………………………….….144 Figure 6: Disabled Skateboarder Performing Trick in Bowl………………………………..145 Figure 7: Skateboarders at an Adaptive Skate Competition...……………………...……….146 Figure 8: The Fathers of Adaptive Skateboarding....…………………………………....… .146 Figure 9: Disabled Rider Mentoring Young Girls and Women………………………..........147 Figure 10: Support from Family and Friends……….……………………………….……....147 Figure 11: WCMX Rider Hitting Gap at Dew Tour……………………...…………….…...148 Figure 12: WCMX Rider Dropping In……………..…………………………………….….149 Figure 13: WCMX Rider Dropping into Halfpipe…………………………………………..149 Figure 14: WCMX Rider Falling……………………………………………………………150 Figure 15: Staring Down The Vert Ramp.………..…………………………………………150 Note. All figures contained in this document have alternative-text embedded in them. x Acknowledgments This dissertation draws on research supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC). Thank you to all those who participated in this research project. Without you, none of this would have been possible. Thank you for trusting me and giving me your time, sharing your stories, and for teaching me so much about life, skateboarding, WCMX, and disability. Huge shout out to the annex crew (past and present) and everyone that has called the annex home over the last seven years. Despite the fact that we regularly had to deal with skunks, funky smells, and constant maintenance in the space, I am so happy and proud to say that I was a part of a long-legacy of brilliant minds to come out of that dingy-little, non-descriptor building. While the annex, is, of course, just a building, it was truly the people within the space that made my time at UBC and graduate school so amazing. A special shout out to Jesse, Jeanette, Liv, Devra, Joe, Shawn, Staci, Monir, Shabana, Steph, Deanna, Danni, Maya, Milly, Andrew, Julia, Madison, Donna, Kimberly, Frida, and Aishwarya. You are all amazing scholars, but even better friends. There are also many friends to thank outside of the annex. Negin, Krista, Thalia, Lisa, Katie, Erica, Katrina, Renee, Ferg, Harriet, Julia, Sophie (everyone at Loafe) Mark, Deana, Thomas, Kaio, Dug, J-love, and all the Vancouver friends. Whether it was catching up for coffee, going on walks around campus, hanging out at conferences, going surfing, skateboarding, or flyfishing, chatting over zoom, conversing over beers, or just hanging out and talking about graduate school and life more generally, you all had profound impacts on me, and I am grateful to call you all friends. Jani Vogell at COTR for being so instrumental in my post-secondary education trajectory. Not only did you show me what you can do with a Human Kinetics degree, but you were one of the first people to believe in me and tell me that I was, in fact, interested in the social sciences, not the xi “hard” sciences. You will be happy to know that I kept my CSEP (CPT) certification well into graduate school, but finally let it slip (a few years ago) for Marxists texts. Thank you to all the incredible instructors I had at UofL who showed me what research can look like, and who taught me the power of sociology and using a sociological imagination. In particular, I would like to send a massive thank you to Jay Laurendeau, Sean Brayton, Carly Adams, Michelle Helstein, Kim Mair, Steve Ferzacca, and Anne Dymond for all your support and mentorship over the years. I would not be where I am at without your support and mentorship. I would also like to give a massive thank you to Mary Greenshields. You not only taught me the basics of writing but helped me see the power of words and critical thinking in today’s world. Thank you, Mary! A special thank you is in order for David Howe. Thank you for all your mentorship over the years, David. Every time we connect, I seem to learn something new and exciting (whether that’s at a conference or at a pub). I look forward to all the future conversations we will have! A massive thank you to my committee members: Brian Wilson, Deirdre Kelly, and Moss Norman. It was an absolute pleasure working with and learning from you all. You are all brilliant scholars, but more importantly, amazing humans! Thank you for pushing me and my ideas, and for being so encouraging, supportive, and caring throughout my entire doctoral degree. While you all taught me valuable lessons in methodology and social theory, the most important lessons I learned from you all came through our informal chats and discussions about research, academia, and life more generally. Thank you for all your support, mentorship, and kindness! To my supervisor, Andrea Bundon. Thank you for shaping me into the researcher and person I am today. Thank you for your mentorship and for instilling me with confidence and support when I needed it most and for all the research opportunities along the way, including conferences all over xii the world (and the few that you got to see me present at ☺). Thank you for trusting me and giving me space, but for also pushing me, my writing, and ideas when I needed it. I was fortunate to learn so much about research and academia from you, but also learned the importance of communication, taking breaks, listening, and being creative when it comes to research. I was fortunate enough to be your first master and PhD student and know that you will continue to be amazing mentor, instructor, researcher, scholar, and supervisor to all those who are fortunate enough to work with you in the future. Thank you so much, Andrea! Mom and Dad: Thank you for everything. Thank you for giving me all the opportunities in the world to pursue my passions and interests and thank you for your un-wavering support. I can’t even begin to express how much you two mean to me. I love and thank you both so much! Nolla and Theo: For all your love and support and for all your visits to Vancouver over the years. Living in Vancouver was fun, but it was truly the visits from you two that made our time in Vancouver so great and so special. I love you both. Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Newt, and Grandma Phyllis and Grandpa George: Thank you for all your support and love over the years and for all your kindness and enthusiasm. I know both Grandpa Newt and Grandpa George would be incredibly proud of me. Garry and Michelle: Thank you for all the love, support, and kindness! You two have always supported me, showed interest in my work, and have been incredibly supportive over the years. I am so lucky to have you both in my life. I love you very much. Rick and Carole: Thank you for all the conversations, inspiration, and music suggestions throughout this wild process. I love and admire you both. xiii Last, but certainly not least, Karly. Thank you so much, Kar. You were my ride-or-die and rock throughout this whole crazy process. Thank you for your patience, kindness, level-headedness, and un-wavering love and support over the last seven years of graduate school. Thanks for continuing to push me out of my comfort zone and for being there when I am in the dumps. Thanks for calming me down when my stress levels are through the roof and for celebrating (and dancing to) the small and massive milestones along the way. I am excited to keep on dancing with you in the years to come. I can’t imagine dating, let alone marrying an academic can be easy, but just know that you inspire me and make me a better person, friend, scholar, and partner every day. “I love you to the moon and back….” you know the rest… xiv Dedication For my Grandparents. Thank you for all your love and support. 1 Chapter 1: Introduction 1.1 The Ah-ha Moment I still remember that ah-ha moment during my graduate studies where I knew what I wanted to study for a doctoral research project. It was 2019, and I had just wrapped up a master’s thesis that explored surfers’ understandings and experiences with concussion using a critical, sociocultural lens, and I was keen to continue researching what many refer to as action sports. Action sports, broadly speaking, refer to a range of (primarily) individualized and largely informal sports which differentiate themselves from traditional, rule-bound, competitive, and regulated Western sporting cultures (Thorpe & Wheaton, 2013). While the terms, extreme (Donnelly, 2006), lifestyle (Wheaton, 2004, 2013), and alternative (Rinehart, 2000) have been used to describe these sports and their encompassing (sub)cultures; the term action sport, according to Thorpe (2016), is the preferred term used by committed participants and industry stakeholders who comprise these sporting communities. Popular action sports today include, but are not limited to, surfing, skateboarding, bicycle motocross (BMX), parkour, and snowboarding. Having grown up skateboarding and later taking a liking to surfing and having studied both action sports throughout my undergraduate degree and master’s degree, it seemed as though my personal interests and engagements with these sports were slowly (yet surely) starting to overlap with my academic interests. Early in my graduate studies, I started working as a research assistant on a project examining women’s involvements and experiences in the Paralympic Movement. At the time, I was quite unfamiliar with the topic of disability, and even less familiar with literature on disability sport and the Paralympics. Yet, given my interests in sport, arts, culture, and social justice, and in speaking with and learning from disabled athletes about their experiences in sport, I quickly became interested in the project. 2 I was more than half a year into my PhD and still had no idea about what to study. Part of me wanted to explore the intersections of disability and sport, while the other part of me wanted to continue to explore action sports, especially given my previous work on the topic and, because of my own engagements with the sports. While I found surfing later in life, my engagements with skateboarding started when I was 12 and was gifted a hand-me-down skateboard from a neighbour. I found myself completely infatuated by this little wooden device and was captivated by how I could manipulate and manoeuvre it in ways that I wanted to. From that point on, I was hooked. Skateboarding became both a lifestyle and identity for me and followed me throughout my earlier days and into university. While my engagements with skateboarding seemed to ebb and flow over the years, it was something that I continually found myself gravitating back towards and interested in, both personally and academically. These interests, however, seemed to have little convergence with the work I was doing at the time and my growing interest in disability sport. In a very serendipitous manner, however, these two areas of interests merged when I happened to tune into the X Games in 2019 to watch skateboarding and learned that an adaptive skateboard event had been added to the program that year. I was instantly hooked and absorbed by the skills, creativity, and performances of the disabled riders. I do not recall if I even finished watching the event as I was so fixated on learning more about adaptive skateboarding and whether there was any research on the topic. A brief internet search revealed that there was little information on adaptive skateboarding, and little to no research (from any discipline) on the topic. It was at this point that I had my ah-ha moment and knew that my dissertation would focus on adaptive skateboarding. 3 1.2 The Dissertation Project This dissertation project, as noted above, merges my two areas of interest, and explores the experiences of adaptive skateboarders and wheelchair motocross (WCMX) riders within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. In recent years, both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX have emerged as powerful and popular adaptive action sports among disabled people worldwide. Despite this growth, however, little to no academic attention has been drawn towards either sport or the experiences of participants within these sports. This comes as a bit of a surprise given that both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX now have events and opportunities for disabled riders to compete in both the X Games and Dew Tour, which to many, are considered the world’s largest and most wide-reaching action sport mega events (Thorpe & Dumont, 2019). The inclusion of, and overall success of, these sports at these action sport mega events has generated serious conversations about the opportunity of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX being included in the Paralympic program as soon as 2028 (Berrics, 2019). This dissertation project, however, is less interested in the Paralympic potential of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and is more interested in exploring the day-to-day lives and experiences of physically disabled riders and their engagements with skateboarding’s larger (sub)culture. Using (digital) qualitative methods and social theories, this dissertation project aims to provide the reader with a critical sociocultural analysis of the emerging adaptive action sport of skateboarding, WCMX, and disabled riders’ experiences with these sports. This critical analysis not only explores the transformative aspects of informal action sport among disabled people but carves out space to explore how social, cultural, political, historical, and structural factors influence the everyday experiences of disabled riders within different skateboarding spaces. With this context in mind, this dissertation project was designed to explore and answer five overarching research questions: 4 RQ#1: Why do disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX? RQ#2: What are disabled riders’ experiences within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture? RQ#3: Why and how are disabled riders using Instagram? RQ#4: How do disabled riders portray themselves on Instagram and what types of messages do these online portrayals convey? RQ#5: How do disabled riders engage with, navigate, and access material skate spaces? 1.3 Dissertation Outline In what follows, I provide an overview of this dissertation document and outline the content of each chapter. Following this introduction (Chapter 1), I highlight related literature to the dissertation topic and outline pertinent social theories used within this work. Specifically, in this chapter (Chapter 2), I provide the reader with information on the topic of disability and outline how the topic has been discussed and explored by those within disability studies and more recently, Critical Disability Studies (CDS), and at once, situate this dissertation within CDS. I then outline how I borrow key concepts, ideas, and assumptions from posthumanism studies and detail how the analytical framework of intersectionality is used at different points throughout this dissertation. I then introduce literature related to action sports and (sporting) subcultures and outline work that has explored skateboarding through sociocultural perspectives. This section includes a brief history of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Following this overview, I then highlight research that has investigated the nexus between disability, sport, leisure, and physical activity and draw attention to work that has explored the intersections of disability and (social) media, and disability and space. I conclude this chapter by outlining current gaps that exist within literature and highlight the potential methodological, theoretical, and substantive contributions of this dissertation. 5 In Chapter 3, I outline the methodology of this dissertation project. I begin by discussing my ontological and epistemological positions and situate myself within the work. I then discuss the various methods that were employed in this dissertation work and provide context and detail about each method used to collect data in this study. From here, I detail how participants were recruited for this project and provide information about the participants involved in the study. I then outline how the dataset was analyzed and interpreted and conclude this chapter with a discussion about some of the ethical tensions and considerations that manifested during the study. The next three chapters (Chapter 4, 5, 6) outline the findings of this dissertation project and highlight themes that were developed throughout data analysis that address the research questions of this study. All three chapters are structured in the same manner. Each begins with a brief overview of its content and outlines what research question(s) are explored within the chapter. From here, findings (themes) developed throughout data analysis are then featured, and data is woven in to illustrate each theme. Following these results, the findings are then put into discussion with literature, and are situated within CDS. Following this discussion, each chapter is then summarized, and key findings are highlighted. This dissertation project, to an extent, can be understood as an exploration of disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences within three different spaces, those being 1) (sub)cultural spaces, 2) digital spaces, and 3) material spaces. Chapter 4 addresses RQ#1 and RQ#2 of this dissertation project and explores the reasons why disabled people chose to engage with adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and highlight their experiences, as disabled riders, within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. This chapter draws attention to the potential benefits and challenges of participating in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Results from Chapter 4 highlight how despite overall positive experiences, underlying social forces can influence disabled 6 riders’ engagements with and experiences within the wider sporting (sub)culture. Chapter 5 shifts attention to explore disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences within the digital, online space of Instagram. In this chapter, RQ#3 and RQ#4 are addressed and answered. Findings in this chapter highlight the various reasons why disabled riders engage with Instagram and explores their online portrayals on the platform and the types of messages conveyed through these depictions. Findings from this chapter highlight both the power and potential of Instagram among disabled people and marginalized community members and showcases how disabled riders used Instagram, their posts, and engagements on the platform to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions. Finally, Chapter 6 explores disabled riders’ engagements with and experience in different material skate spaces and answers RQ#5. Findings from this chapter highlight the unique ways that riders, with different riding styles, engage with, navigate, and access different material skate spaces, including skateparks, street spaces, and DIY spaces. Findings from this chapter show how social forces and structural barriers can influence how and where disabled riders ride. The final chapter of this dissertation (Chapter 7) concludes the study and provides an overview of key findings from the work. Following this synopsis, I discuss the methodological, theoretical, and substantive implications of this work and outline some of the limitations of the study. I then make several recommendations about what future research could explore and conclude this chapter by providing a few closing remarks and reflections. 1.4 Key Terms and Definitions Before delving into this dissertation, I highlight a few key terms. In defining these key terms up front, it is my hope to create a more free-flowing document for the reader to engage with, and at once, operate as resource for the reader to return to if they would like additional context and/or information on certain terms used throughout this document. 7 Access and Accessibility: The terms access and accessibility are woven into and discussed at length in this dissertation. Access, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary (2023), is defined as “permission, liberty, or ability to enter, approach, or pass to and from a place or to approach or communicate with a person or thing.” Conversely, accessibility is defined as “capable of being reached.” Taken together, both access and accessibility can be useful terms to use when exploring the lives, lived experiences, and spatial engagements of disabled people (Titchkosky, 2011). As Guffey (2017) notes, access and disability often “come together visibly” (p. 3) and focus on enabling access for disabled people or enabling access through assistive technologies. When used in this work, these terms are meant to capture both the social and material realities that many physically disabled people encounter in their everyday lives that influence their engagements with and experiences within different spaces and social settings. Adaptive Skateboarding: My choice to use the term adaptive skateboarding within in this work was not necessarily an easy or straightforward decision. The term adaptive, at least within a disability sporting context, insinuates that some type of adaptive measure or provision is being made to either the equipment or sporting envrioment to facilitate as much independent participation for a disabled person (Lundberg et al., 2011a). At the beginning of the project, I thought this term would neatly package most individuals I would likely engage with in this work; yet, in exchanges with participants, I quickly realized that many of the individuals did not make or need any adaptations, and in some cases, rejected the term adaptive altogether. At the same time, I was also trying to better understand how and if WCMX fit within the broader skateboarding (sub)culture. Conversations with some WCMX riders, for instance, detailed how they considered themselves skateboarders and noted how they viewed WCMX as a sub-discipline of skateboarding. However, others noted how 8 WCMX, to them, was more akin to BMXing, and noted that they considered WCMX to be a sub-discipline of BMX. Yet, against both these views, there were also many participants that considered WCMX to be its own sport separate from skateboarding and BMX. These varied responses, and the fact that I essentially examined, or rather came to understand that I was studying two different sports (skateboarding and WCMX) made it difficult to land on a term that would accurately encapsulate both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Noting the complexity of these terms, and the various meanings and ideas associated with each, I knew my decision had to be well-informed and strategic. I decided to use the term adaptive skateboarding within this dissertation project to account for both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. I chose this term for a few different reasons, including the fact that it is the terminology used by both the X Games and Dew Tour to currently describe their adaptive skateboarding events where skateboarders and WCMX riders compete with and against each other. While I am still at odds with this terminology and do not feel like it accurately accounts for all the participants and their riding styles, throughout the dissertation I draw attention to the nuances of adaptive skateboarding and encourage the reader to critically reflect upon this term and the ways it is used by different actors, including researchers (like me), action sport entities, and participants. Adaptive Action Sports: Borrowing ideas from Thorpe and Wheaton (2013) and Lundberg et al. (2011a), I use the term adaptive action sport in this work to broadly refer to individualized and largely informal disability sports that differentiate themselves from traditional, rule-bound, competitive, and regulated Western sports whereby participants make modifications to their sporting equipment or envrioment to facilitate as much independent participation as possible for a disabled person. Examples of popular adaptive action sports include, adaptive snowboarding, adaptive rock climbing, adaptive mountain biking, adaptive surfing, and adaptive skateboarding. 9 Disabled Rider: The term disabled rider is used in this dissertation. When used, this term is meant to capture and reflect both adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders. I opted to use this term for a few different reasons: 1) I chose to use this neutral term, as many WCMX riders do not necessarily consider themselves “skateboarders” or “adaptive skateboarders” and differentiate their riding styles and sporting practices from skateboarding, 2) Many participants rejected the term “adaptive” and made it known that they did not make any adaptations to their sporting equipment or sporting environments and simply considered themselves skateboarders, not “adaptive skateboarders.” In recognizing that participants defined their practices and riding disciplines differently, I opted to focus on their identity as disabled individuals and chose the term “rider” to encapsulate different riding practices including WCXM, skateboarding, adaptive skateboarding, and wheelchair boarding. While the term disabled rider is meant to capture and reflect the experiences and engagements of both adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders, at times, I make specific reference to either adaptive skateboarding and adaptive skateboarders or WCXM and WCMX riders. In these instances, I am making it known to the reader that I am referring to a particular riding style. Assistive Technology: Assistive technology, or “AT” for short, is a term I use in dissertation to describe items, pieces of equipment, software programs, product systems, and/or digital tools that are used to increase, maintain, or improve certain functional capabilities, independence, and participation for different individuals. As the WHO (2023) outlines, people who benefit the most from assistive technologies include: older people, individuals with non-communicable diseases such as diabetes and stroke, people with mental health conditions like dementia and autism, people with gradual functional decline, and as this work focuses on, disabled people with differing impairment types and levels of function. 10 Disabled People: Throughout this dissertation, I use identity-first language when discussing disability and disabled people. My choice to use identity-first language over person-first terminologies such as, people with disabilities (Kissow, 2015), people who experience disability (Goodwin & Rossow-Kimball, 2012) and people living with a disability (Bredahl, 2013) is intentional and guided by both my theoretical and political positions. While some disability scholars, like Tom Shakespeare (2013), have argued that “quibbling over” (p. 19) the use of language and different terminologies can divert attention away from the issues being addressed, others, like Peers et al. (2014), have discussed the importance of language in disability work and have argued that academics need to be held accountable for their choice of terminology in their work. Although the use of person-first language is the most widely accepted and respectful terminology for disability in Canada (where this dissertation was conducted) (Peers et al., 2014), the theoretical underpinnings of this dissertation led me to use identity-first language in this work. Identity-first language, and use of the term disabled person, “recognizes that disability is a central facet of identity that should not be othered when defining personhood” (Powis et al., 2022, p. 4) and reflects the idea that disability is a social product rather than an individual characteristic. The term disabled person, as Peers et al. (2014) note, emerged out of the United Kingdom’s disability movement and the development of what is known as the social model of disability. The social model of disability and viewing disability as a social product rather than an individual characteristic (medical model), set the stage for the theoretical development of both disability studies and more recently, Critical Disability Studies (CDS). Though I discuss the development of disability studies and CDS in greater detail in Chapter 2 of this dissertation, for the time being, it is important to know that the social model of disability remains at the heart of both disability studies and CDS (Shildrick 2020). Therefore, in recognizing my use of CDS in this dissertation 11 project and its ties to the social model of disability, I, too, remain congruent with my theoretical underpinnings and use identify-first language in this dissertation when discussing disabled people. It should be noted that while I use the term disabled person in this work, the reader may encounter instances where different terms (including person-first language) are used either by other researchers or the participants themselves. In these instances, and in respecting both the participant’s self-definition of disability, and regional or theoretical differences between expressions of disability (Shildrick, 2020), I have elected to leave the phrasing and their choice in terminology as it was originally expressed. Riding Style(s): The term riding style is used as a blanket term throughout this dissertation to capture the different types of riding performances that adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders engage with. Though one’s riding style often reflects the spaces that they engage with, it is not limited to spatial engagements, but also reflects the repertoire of tricks and performances made within different spaces. Below, I highlight the most common riding styles discussed by riders in this study. Freestyle: This style of riding is one of the oldest styles of skateboarding and emphasizes technical flat ground manoeuvres and tricks. Freestyle riding can take place anywhere, but those who engage with the riding style often prefer smooth, flat surfaces. Park: Skatepark or “park” riding, is a style of riding where the rider engages with bowls, transitions, obstacles, and street-like features within confined, built-environments. Street: Those that consider themselves street riders often only engage with spaces and obstacles found in the urban envrioment and entails the rider performing tricks and maneuvers on and over urban features like rails, ledges, staircases, and other obstacles found in the streets. 12 Vert: Vertical, or “vert” riding, is the style of riding where the rider engages with a ramp or other inclines where they transition from a horizontal plane to a vertical plane in efforts to perform different maneuvers. This style of riding is also often referred to as transition or bowl riding. Skatepark Design and Construction Companies: The term skatepark design and construction companies is used within this work to encapsulate and refer to the companies that plan, design, and construct purpose-built skateparks. Though other terms may be used to describe these companies and their practices, this terminology, I feel, best encapsulates the general aims, directions, and practices of these (often) for-profit organizations. Skate Space(s): I use the term skate space(s) broadly in this work to reflect different (sub)cultural, digital, and material environments that disabled riders engage with, including: skateparks (“parks”), street spaces (“street spots” or “the streets”), and do-it-yourself (“DIY”) skate spaces. Skateparks are purpose-built recreational environments built and designed for skateboarders, BMX riders, scooters, in-line skaters, and wheelchair riders. Street spaces, or what many refer to as street spots are spaces within urban environments (public or private) that riders engage with. Common street spots include plazas and industrial areas and often include urban obstacles like handrails, stairs, walls, flower beds, bins, benches, and picnic tables. DIY skate spaces, refer to spaces and obstacles designed and created by riders, for riders. The creation of DIY skate spaces involves riders taking initiative and working together to make unsanctioned spaces rideable (Peters, 2018). DIY skate spaces can be created anywhere but are often developed in forgotten and unwanted spaces and industrial areas. While the term skate space insinuates that the space is used by skateboarders, the term is also meant to reflect and capture the spatial engagements of WCMX riders and is used to reflect (sub)cultural and digital spaces as well. 13 Sport: I use the term sport in this work and consider skateboarding, adaptive skateboarding, and WCMX to all be “sports,” albeit “action sports” or “adaptative action sports,” but nonetheless sports. While some sport and skateboard scholars would disagree with this statement and my use of this term, I remind myself that what is perceived of as a sport in one instance, context, or community may not be understood the same way by others and recognize that sport takes on many forms and definitions and is constantly changing based on social norms, trends, and new directions. Thus, defining sport can be difficult. However, one definition from the European Sports Council (2021) that I appreciate and think best encapsulates sport, and more specifically, the sports outlined in this dissertation work is this: “Sport means all forms of physical activity which, through casual or organized participation, aim at expressing or improving physical fitness and mental wellbeing, forming social relationships, or obtaining results in competition at all levels” (Article 2). (Sub)culture: The term (sub)culture is used in this dissertation to both situate and encapsulate skateboarding and its broader community. As O’Connor (2019) notes, skateboarding appears to operate both inside and outside of mainstream culture, grasping onto earlier subcultural philosophies that privilege hedonistic, risk-taking, expressive, and anti-establishment-like attitudes, while simultaneously embracing its mainstream success. I side with O’Connor and use the term, (sub)culture within this work to broadly reflect skateboarding in today’s world. Parenthesizing the word, “(sub)” denotes that while skateboarding may be commercialized and mainstreamed, many of those involved in the sport today, still display and embody subcultural ideas, attitudes, and ethos that marked skateboarding as a subculture (Lombard, 2015). Although this is the terminology that I use in this dissertation, the reader will note how the term subculture is used when discussing literature on subcultures and subculture theory, and when using others’ words, and theorizations of the term. 14 Chapter 2: Theoretical Perspectives and Literature Review 2.1 Introduction In this chapter, I outline pertinent theories, theorists, and key pieces of literature that are used in this dissertation project. I begin this chapter by providing the reader with a brief overview of the development of disability studies and follow this section with a discussion on the emergence of Critical Disability Studies (CDS). From here, I outline CDS and its key ideas, assumptions, and concepts, and discuss how this methodology was used in this dissertation project. I then make note of how the analytical framework of intersectionality, and ideas from posthumanism were used in conjunction with CDS throughout the study, and data analysis. Next, I provide an overview of related bodies of literature and provide the reader with information on action sports and subcultures. I then introduce the reader to literature that has examined skateboarding and its (sub)culture and discuss the development and history of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Following this content, I then highlight key pieces of literature that have explored the intersections of disability and sport. Finally, I conclude this chapter by identifying gaps within existing literature and outline some of the potential contributions of this work. 2.2 Theoretical Perspectives 2.2.1 Critical Disability Studies As disability scholar, Dan Goodley (2016) proclaims, “disability touches everyone…and is part of life and part of the human condition” (p. 1). In fact, almost everyone will temporarily or permanently experience a disability at some point in their life (WHO, 2022). Numbers from the World Health Organization (WHO) estimate that 1.3 billion people or 16% of the global population currently experience some form of disability (WHO, 2022). Disabled people are more likely to die early, have poorer health, and experience greater limitations in everyday function due to a range 15 of health inequities (WHO, 2022). These health inequities, as the WHO (2022) outlines, can arise from unfair conditions that disproportionally affect disabled people, including stigma, discrimination, poverty, exclusion from education and employment, and barriers accessing and receiving healthcare. Disabled people are more likely to be victims of rape and violence, are less likely to receive legal protection, and are more likely be ignored, pitied, patronized, objectified, mocked, and fetishized than non-disabled individuals (Goodley, 2016). In addition, disabled people are less likely to be employed (Boman et al., 2015), less likely to participate in sport, physical activity, and leisure (Kissow, 2015), and encounter ongoing issues regarding access and accessibility (Guffey, 2017; Titchkosky, 2011). These inequalities experienced by disabled people have been a point of discussion, debate, and advocacy among disabled people, scholars, and disability activists for decades. During the 1960s, scholars and activists alike started to take aim at addressing the issues of inequality and discrimination against disabled people and a civil rights movement began to take shape (Goodley, 2016). During this movement, disability advocates saw an opportunity to join forces alongside other minority groups to demand equal treatment, access, and opportunity (Goodley, 2016). One outcome of this activism, in America, was the creation of the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). This Civil Rights law was enacted in efforts to protect disabled people from discrimination and afforded them similar protection as the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which made discrimination based on race, religion, sex, and other characteristics illegal (Minich, 2016). The creation and implementation of ADA not only provided disabled people with legal protection but made it a requirement that employers provide reasonable accommodations to disabled employees, and impose accessibility requirements for all public spaces, infrastructure, and designs (Minich, 2016). While this was one outcome of the civil rights movement that impacted Americans directly, 16 similar, but different examples also transpired in other societies and nations like Australia, Canada, and South Africa (Cooper, 1999; Howell et al., 2006; Prince, 2010). Another outcome of this movement was the development of the field of scholarship known as disability studies. This field of study, as Goodley (2016) notes, was created in efforts to examine the meaning, nature, and consequences of disability, and asks us to “ponder how we normally (or normatively) understand bodies, minds, relationships, communities, and economic priorities” (p. 1). Though disability studies emerged in large response to the inequities and conditions faced by disabled people, it was also developed in direct response to the two dominant cultural framings of disability that existed at the time: 1) framing disability as a moral condition, and 2) framing disability as a medical condition. Viewing disability as a moral condition assumes disability to be a “defect” caused by a “moral lapse” or “sins” and is heavily rooted in religiosity, whereas the medical model of disability, or viewing disability as a medical condition, considers disability to be a “pathology” that requires medical intervention to fix (and normalize) the abnormal body (Goodley, 2016). These two perspectives not only frame disability as an individual “problem” that is reduced to the flawed “tragedy” of the individual (Oliver, 2013), but fails to capture and account for the nuances and complexities of social, historic, economic, and cultural forces upon the lives and experiences of disabled people (Goodley, 2016). This failure to account for the ways in which disability is experienced as more than just a medical or moral flaw, gave rise to what is known as the social model of disability (Oliver, 2013), which today, remains a mainstay within disability studies. Those exploring disability through a social model argue that disability is a by-product of the way that society is organized and construed and argue that disabled people are not disabled by their impairment, but rather “by society” (Goodley, 2016, p. 9). Scholars working from the social model of disability, like me, contextualize, 17 define, and differentiate impairment from disability (Oliver, 1990). Impairment, as Goodley (2016) describes, can be understood as the limitation of an individual’s physical, mental, or sensory function. Impairment can be congenital and present at birth or acquired through injury or illness. It can be overt and visible or can be hidden and made known only through disclosure. It can be progressive, static, or intermittent (CDC, 2020). Disability, however, can be understood as a social construct that is the result of (negative) interactions between impaired individuals and their immediate envrioment and the various physical, attitudinal, communication, and social barriers that exist within that milieu (Goodley, 2016). In other words, one is not disabled by their impairment, but rather “disabled by contemporary society” (Goodley, 2016, p. 9). Although those working from a social model of disability do not deny the physical reality of impairment or its impact on the individual, those working from this perspective work to identify, expose, and change society to accommodate impaired individuals (Oliver, 2013). As disability studies evolved, so did the approaches used within the field. One such approach included those using critical realism (Shakespeare, 2006, 2013). Broadly speaking, critical realism can be understood as a branch of philosophy that distinguishes the “real” world from the “observable” world and maintains the idea that the real world cannot be observed, and exists independent from human perceptions, theories, and constructions (Archer et al., 2013; Sayer, 2004). Some disability scholars have maintained these ideas in their work and have argued that impairment is a biological limitation removed from discourse and culture (Danermark, 2002; Williams, 1999), while others, like Shakespeare (2013), have found middle ground and have argued for a more holistic approach that acknowledges that “people are disabled by society and by their bodies” (p. 75). According to Shakespeare (2013), disability is “always an interaction between individual and structural factors” (p. 74). That is to say, without denying the nature and 18 severity of impairment, Shakespeare and others acknowledge that social and cultural factors, like the attitudes and reactions of others, personal perceptions towards impairment, and one’s upbringing all matter and can impact the realities and everyday experiences of disabled people. Another, more recent development within the field of disability studies, has been the use of and development of what has been labelled, Critical Disability Studies (CDS) or Critical Disability theory (Goodley, 2013; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shildrick, 2009, 2012). CDS, is a diverse, interdisciplinary set of theoretical approaches designed to analyze disability as a cultural, historical, relative, social, and political phenomenon (Goodley, 2011; Goodley et al., 2017). Those who use CDS seek to capture and interpret the lived experiences of disability while challenging traditional conceptions of disability and difference more widely (Campbell, 2009a; Goodley, 2011; Slater, 2015). This offshoot of disability studies and the social model of disability, in large part, emerged in efforts to re-evaluate and challenge the critical underpinnings of previous disability studies work that drew heavily upon the social model of disability. While the social model of disability was particularly useful in the context of activism and helped shift conversations towards access, accommodation, and the duty to accommodate impaired individuals (Barnes, 2019), this model was only able to explore so much, and left many other diverse theoretical strands of inquiry either ignored or untouched (Goodley, 2013; Goodley & Runswick-Cole, 2015; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shildrick, 2012). The introduction of the word critical, as Smith and Bundon (2018) detail, “denotes a sense of self-appraisal” (p. 27) and calls upon its users to (re)asses where they have come from, where they are at, and where they are going. To borrow from those before me, CDS starts with disability, but (often) never ends with it and opens up a space for us to think about how a host of social, political, theoretical, and practical 19 issues are relevant to us all (Goodley, 2013). Yet, to do this work, scholars need to be open to using a range of eclectic theories and new lines of inquiry (Smith & Bundon, 2018). Those using CDS not only attempt to rethink the conventions, assumptions, and aspirations of theory, disability, and activism in today’s world but use their work to describe, track, and expose how sociopolitical constructions of disability affect the daily lives of disabled people (Shildrick, 2009, 2012). One idea that unites CDS scholars is the agreement that disabled people are both undervalued and discriminated against, and despite efforts, these practices cannot be changed simply through liberal or neo-liberal policy and legislation (Smith & Bundon, 2018). Yet, more than this, CDS is united in developing understandings of disability that go beyond the social model of disability in efforts to connect with diverse theoretical perspectives (Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2016; Smith & Bundon, 2018). Scholars situating their work in CDS have drawn upon queer theory (McRuer, 2006), critical race theory (Annamma et al., 2013), intersectionality (Campbell, 2009a; Garland-Thompson 2002, 2005), and posthumanism (Goodley et al., 2014, 2019) to account for, analyze, and extrapolate on ideas related to disability within distinct cultures, contexts, and environments. Although some have argued that CDS is theoretically ambiguous and too broad (Vehmas & Watson, 2014), Goodley et al. (2012) and others remind us that what unites CDS is a commitment to research that exposes how ableism shapes and influences the everyday experiences of disabled people and engages in activism and advocacy that promotes affirmative ways of understanding disability as more just social arrangements (Smith & Bundon, 2018). Ableism, according to Wolbring (2012), can be described as “prejudicial attitudes and discriminatory behaviours towards persons with a disability… [and hinges on] one’s understanding of normal ability and the rights and benefits afforded to persons deemed [to be] ‘normal’” (p. 78). These attitudes and practices, as Goodley et al. (2012) note, can manifest in myriad ways, and are 20 produced at both structural and inter-personal levels, or what might be termed disablism (Thomas, 1999). Disablism, as Thomas (1999) outlines, “is a form of social oppression involving the social imposition of restrictions of activity on people with impairments and the socially engendered undermining of their psycho-emotional wellbeing” (p. 60). Put another way, disablism is the discriminatory, oppressive, or abusive behaviour that arises from the belief that disabled people are inferior to others (Goodley, 2014). These discriminatory attitudes and beliefs can eventually accumulate to the point where disabled people come to internalize and believe negative stereotypes and beliefs about themselves and their bodies through a process known as internalized ableism (Campbell, 2008). The internalization of these negative ideas, in turn, can not only affect the mental health and wellbeing of disabled people, but can lead to even further marginalization within society (Campbell, 2009b). Using these key concepts, those situating their work in CDS are positioned to comment on and consider how institutions, cities, and societies “dis-able” individuals systematically and socially and can expose how ableism and disablism shape the everyday experiences of disabled people (Goodley, 2014; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shildrick, 2012). Given the theoretical flexibility of CDS, its attentiveness to explore the everyday experiences of disabled people, and its critical and transformative underpinnings, I situate this study in CDS. Considering the interdisciplinary nature of CDS, and its call to use eclectic theories to explore the experiences of disabled people, I now outline two different theoretical perspectives that I drew upon in this study: the analytical framework of intersectionality, and philosophical ideas from posthumanism and discuss how these two perspectives were used alongside CDS to guide data analysis and answer the research questions of this dissertation project. 21 2.2.2 Intersectionality One theoretical framework that has increasingly been used by CDS scholars researching the topic of disability has been those using intersectionality, and intersectional frameworks in their work (see Goodley 2018; Seal, 2012; Slater, 2015). The term intersectionality was originally coined in 1989 by American lawyer, and critical race scholar, Kimberlé Crenshaw (1995). Focusing on women’s experiences, and in particular, Black women’s experiences, Crenshaw developed the framework intersectionality as a way to account for how intersecting social identities relate to systems of oppression, domination, and discrimination and how different social markers influence the lived experiences of Black women and other marginalized community members. Since Crenshaw’s original theorization, intersectionality has expanded into a broad, interdisciplinary framework that has been used to examine the impacts of interlocking social structures, with a particular emphasis on how different systems of privilege and oppression create multiple inequities such as racism, ageism, ableism, sexism, classism, homophobia, and transphobia (Hill Collins & Bilge, 2016). Hill Collins and Bilge (2016), for instance, have described intersectionality as an “analytical framework” (p. 158) that is used to account for and capture the complexities of intersecting social markers such as race, social class, gender, sexuality, age, and disability upon one’s lived experiences, embodiments, and identities. Intersectionality borrows from a feminist perspective regarding ideas related to social justice which recognizes women and other marginalized groups, like disabled people, as experts of their own experiences, embodiments, feelings, hopes, and desires (Johnson & Parry, 2015). Vernon (1999) used the term “multiple oppression” (p. 387) to describe the confounding effects of being a part of several different (intersecting) identities and argued that these markers can be experienced simultaneously or independently depending on the context. Following Vernon’s ideas, it is important to recognize 22 that context itself matters and can influence how different bodies move through, interact with, and experience different environments and social situations. As disability scholar, Jennifer Slater (2015) reminds us, when working within CDS, one needs to consider difference more widely than just disability and notes how CDS “demands intersectionality” (p. 5) and attentiveness to how bodies are co-constituted by positions of disability, race, age, gender, sexuality, and social class. Considering the close ties between CDS and intersectionality and given that disability is only one marker of identity, this dissertation project draws upon the analytical framework of intersectionality and ideas from Hill Collins and Bilge (2016) to examine disabled riders (and their intersecting identities) in different spaces. Another reason why I am attracted to this analytical framework is because of its ability to allow researchers the opportunity to access and assess the complexities of the world and their positions within it (Hill Collins & Bilge, 2016). With this in mind, I used an intersectional lens at points in this study to reflect upon and account for how my positionality as a white, able-bodied, male skateboarder and researcher influenced the entire research project including, my interactions with the participants, and the ways in which I interpreted the dataset. Such reflections are most evident in Chapter 3 when discussing the methodology of the study but are sprinkled into the findings outlined in Chapters 4, 5, 6. 2.2.3 Posthumanism CDS scholars have also explored the relationship between disability, bodies, and technologies using ideas and concepts from posthumanism (see Goodley et al., 2014, 2019). Posthumanism is a rather eclectic and elusive theoretical perspective that draws upon several different fields, including science, science fiction, philosophy, critical feminism, futurology, disability studies, and critical theory to argue that individuals or entities, today, exist in a state 23 beyond human (Badmington, 2004). According to Nair (2023) posthumanism is “a worldview and moral position that no longer regard the human as the centre of the universe and as the dominant and determining being” (p. 48). In other words, posthumanism is primarily concerned with decentering the human from the privileged place that philosophical history has positioned it. This world view, as Nair (2023) details, “stresses the interrelation between human, machine, animal, and [the] environment” (p. 48) and questions what humanity and being human means. Guided by the work of Donna Haraway (2016), Rosi Braidotti (2013), Carly Wolfe (2010), and Pramod Nayar (2018), scholars using posthumanism have addressed questions linked to ethics, social injustice, language, and trans-species communication, and have explored the linkages between technologies and the body. Focusing on the latter connection, those using posthumanism in their work have explored (and continue to explore) how technologies have (and are) increasingly pervading and influencing the everyday lives and experiences of humans in today’s world (Murray, 2023; Nayar, 2018). The increased mergence between technologies and bodies has even led some scholars, such as Nayar (2018), to argue that human bodies, today are blurred “congeries, or assemblage, of multiple species, machines and organic forms” (p. 69). While posthuman scholars are concerned with de-centering the human, this nexus between the body and technologies, and how these two facets influence each other remains a key tenet of posthumanism (Braidotti, 2013). Considering this focus on the relationship between bodies and technology, disability scholars, including those using CDS, have discussed the theoretical potential of using posthumanism in their work to examine the intersections between disability, the body, and technologies (Goodley et al., 2014; Murray, 2023). For instance, some research has explored the linkages between the ways in which assistive technologies have been used and merged with disabled bodies to enable different forms of mobility, extend longevity, and enhance the physical 24 and cognitive performances of different bodies (Asare et al., 2023; Ravneberg & Söderström, 2017). Other research has explored how disabled bodies have come to represent cyborgs (a hybrid of organism and machine) in today’s technology-driven world and have raised questions about the augmentation of technologies and bodies (Haraway, 2016). This research has also expanded into sport, where researchers have used posthumanism to help theorize the connectedness between disability, technologies, and bodies within different sporting contexts (see Howe & Silva, 2021; Lopez-Frias, 2016; Monforte et al., 2022). Some sport scholars have focused on disabled athletes and their interactions with technologies and have noted how those who use technologies to mobilize and enhance their sporting performances (cyborgs) not only encounter tremendous scrutiny from able-bodied individuals (often couched in the auspices that using such technologies create unfair advantages for its users) but stir up anxieties among the same crowd by questioning human normativity and ideas of humanness (Butryn 2003; Howe & Silva, 2017; Norman & Moola, 2011). However, according to Brighton and colleagues (2021), aside from these few exceptions, there have been very few in-depth empirical accounts that have looked at the relationship between disabled athletes and technologies through posthumanist philosophies. With these points in mind, I use key ideas and assumptions from this perspective to explore how certain technologies and modifications may influence disabled riders’ experiences, embodiments, engagements, and corporeal movement practices in different spaces. 2.3 Literature Review 2.3.1 Action Sports, Skateboarding, and The Skateboarding (Sub)culture During the 1960s and 1970s many action sports, including skateboarding, gained popularity within North America, and started to bloom in transnational contexts (Thorpe & Wheaton, 2013). Those who participated in these sports were often viewed and described as risk- 25 takers who expressed anti-establishment and do-it-yourself (DIY) ethos and infused their own hedonistic and carefree philosophies and styles into their sporting practices (Thorpe, 2016). Participants of action sports, early on, largely came to view their sport and sporting (sub)culture as different from, and in some cases, in opposition to, rule-bound, institutionalized, competitive, team sports otherwise known as “mainstream” or “traditional sport” (Wheaton, 2013, p. 4). These oppositional (and resistive) attitudes towards the mainstream were not necessarily exclusive to sport, but at the time, mirrored the rise of subcultural groups in Britain throughout the 1960s and 1970s. These groups were primarily made up of young, white, working-class males that were categorized by similar ways of dress, lexicon, and practices and rituals, which were often conceived as different from, or in opposition to, mainstream society. Notable subcultures at the time included the Mods, Teddy Boys, Skinheads, and Punks (Gelder, 2007). The rise of these oppositional groups in Britain sparked the interest of nearby scholars, including, Richard Hoggart. Hoggart was interested in learning more about the emergence of these oppositional groups and why, and for what reasons, these groups were emerging at this point in time. With these questions in mind, Hoggart created a research hub, known as the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies (CCCS) at the University of Birmingham to study these groups. Using neo-Marxist approaches, scholars at the CCCS, including Stuart Hall and Tony Jefferson (1976), Phil Cohen (1972), and Dick Hebdige (1979) explored these oppositional groups and developed what became known as subculture theory. Subcultures, as Hall and Jefferson (1976) defined, were to be understood as sub-sets of a wider culture that are unified by and “focused [on] certain activities, values, certain uses of material artefacts, territorial spaces which significantly differentiated them from the wider culture” (p. 14). Those studying subcultures, including Phil Cohen, came to argue that individuals joined these oppositional groups to resist and express their 26 dissatisfaction towards mainstream culture and the conditions of post-WII Britain—which lacked both meaningful education and work opportunities. Through shared rituals, practices, and expressive ways of dress and speech, these subcultural groups were able to provide an “imaginary solution” to their social positions and social conditions at the time and were able to gain temporary empowerment through these “resistive” practices and consumption patterns (Gelder, 2007, p. 88). Although I would be tough pressed to call skateboarding a capital S “Subculture,” in the same way that those from the CCCS originally theorized these resistive groups, in my view, it is important to recognize the reasons why many of these sports, including skateboarding, emerged when they did. While most consider the 80s to be the peak of skateboarding’s rebellious, non-conformist and resistive era (Borden, 2019), skateboard scholars have been quick to illustrate that skateboarding has mirrored the development and trajectory of mainstream sport and has increasingly become more commercialized (Beal, 2013; Kilberth & Schwier, 2019; O’Connor, 2019). As Beal and Wilson (2004) argued, if [and I emphasize if] skateboarding ever posed resistance to the mainstream, it did so only momentarily. Today, skateboarding appears to operate both inside and outside of mainstream culture grasping onto earlier hedonistic, risk-taking, and expressive attitudes and behaviours, while simultaneously embracing the commercialized and mainstream success of its rebellious past (Schwier, 2019; Thorpe & Wheaton, 2011; Wheaton, 2004). For these very reasons, describing skateboarding can be both problematic and met with ambiguous meanings, understandings, and definitions (O’Connor, 2019). Some scholars, for instance, have described skateboarding as both a “mystery” and “paradox” (Glenney & Mull, 2018, p. 437), while others have described it as a “movement culture” (Kilberth & Schwier, 2019, p. 7) and “art form” (O’Connor, 2019, p. 6). Some have argued that skateboarding is an “organized sport” (Schwier, 2019, p. 68), while others have questioned and debated whether it could or should 27 be classified as a sport at all (Glenney & Mull, 2018). To this end, skateboard scholar, Iain Borden (2001, 2019) has suggested that skateboarding is simply “hard to put onto paper” (p. 223) and is “inherently plural and contradictory” and, at once, both “authentic and corporate, playful and serious, rebellious and conformist, street-based and skatepark bound” (p. 282). I concur with Borden’s description—skateboarding is difficult to put to paper. As someone who has studied and actively participated within this (sub)culture for over two decades, I have had the privilege of watching this sport truly transform over the years. In my view, skateboarding, today, still holds onto many of its early subcultural ideologies that support and engender ideas of freedom, risk-taking, individuality, creativity, hedonism, and DIY ethos (Atencio et al., 2018; Beal & Weidman, 2003; Beal, 2013; Borden, 2019; Chivers Yochim, 2010; O’Connor, 2019; Wheaton, 2013). Yet, at the same time, it is hard to ignore the fact that skateboarding has become more organized, regimented, and commercialized over the years (Batuev & Robinson, 2017, 2018); thus, allowing the sport to transform and move in different directions. I suppose, to me, skateboarding is a bit of everything, and is a rather unique concoction that blends mainstream sporting ideologies with subcultural philosophies to create a puzzling, yet vibrant sport and (sub)culture that truly has “no singular definition” (Borden, 2019, p. 282). Today, skateboarding is a global phenomenon with over fifty million skateboarders worldwide (Borden, 2019). In fact, skateboarding has been crowned the fastest growing sport in North America (Gilchrist & Wheaton, 2017) and is now an official Olympic sport (Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021). The global rise of skateboarding has also attracted academic attention, with research highlighting how participation in skateboarding can not only yield mental and physical health benefits (Dumas & Laforest, 2009; Taylor & Khan, 2011; Wixon, 2009), but can provide individuals with social benefits including: enhanced social skills and self-confidence, resilience, 28 entrepreneurship, and communication habits that go beyond learning tricks and riding a board (Atencio et al., 2018; Jenson et al., 2012; Shannon & Werner, 2008; Vivoni, 2009). Evidently, skateboarders and skateboarding organizations have increasingly aligned themselves with neoliberal ideas in efforts to frame skateboarding as something that is not only “good for society” but an activity that can create “self-sufficient entrepreneurial citizens” (Atencio., 2018, p. 32). Scholars have argued that the same DIY ethos that circulates within skateboarding that prides itself on innovation, creativity, and skill development is now being used by various stakeholders and community members to advocate for and create self-sufficient, good, hard-working citizens who can contribute to society through skateboarding (Atencio et al., 2018; Beal et al., 2017). Following the words of Borden (2019), skateboarding today, not only encourages “important qualities like creativity, entrepreneurship, resilience, confidence, and independence [which] help develop self-directed, determined and innovative individuals” but is an activity that is “relatively healthy, affordable, and accessible” (p. 149). Though white, able-bodied boys and men still make up most participants in the sport, the global expansion of skateboarding has given rise to and resulted in increased participation from those of marginalized communities (Gilchrist & Wheaton, 2017; Thorpe, 2016; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2018). Work has illustrated how individuals from different age groups (O’Connor, 2018a), genders and sexual orientations (Abulhawa, 2020; Geckle & Shaw, 2021), religious backgrounds (O’Connor, 2019), and racial backgrounds (Williams, 2022) have increasingly gravitated toward skateboarding. Yet, one group that has remained understudied by both skateboarding scholars and action sport researchers has been those from the disability community, and disabled peoples’ participation in adaptive action sports and skateboarding and WCMX specifically. 29 2.3.2 Adaptive Skateboarding and WCMX While there is no question that the able-bodied side of skateboarding has grown and flourished over the last 50 years, both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX have steadily grown over the last few decades. Although there are no numbers or estimations of how many adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders there are globally, both sports appear to be on the upswing. One of the reasons for the growth of adaptive skateboarding today can be attributed to the early work and advocacy of professional skateboarder Jon Comer. Comer, also known as the “godfather of adaptive skateboarding” (Florence, 2022, para. 4), has been widely recognized as the first physically disabled professional skateboarder (amputated lower leg) (USAdaptive, 2023). Turning professional in the mid-90s, Comer established himself as a key figure within the skateboarding world and started attending amateur and professional skateboarding events all over North America. At his first professional event, Comer placed tenth. Within a few years, Comer had a full-length video part in Powell’s now famous 1999 skateboard video, Magic, and had placed first in one of the biggest amateur skateboarding competitions in the world, the Tampa Am (USAdaptive, 2023). While Comer had tremendous success on the board, the work that Comer did off his board for the adaptive skateboarding community is what he is known for. As Daniel Gale—organizer of adaptive sports at the X Games—noted, Comer not only laid the foundation for adaptive skateboarding, but “inspire[ed] a generation of athletes with disabilities to take up skateboarding and other action sports” (X Games, 2019, para. 1). Comer’s success throughout the late 90s and early 2000s paved way for other disabled people to get involved in skateboarding, and in 2006 the first adaptive skateboard competition took place in Orlando, Florida. The competition, entitled, The Extremity Games, was the first known extreme sports event for athletes with limb loss and/or limb differences and included competitions, 30 instructional clinics, and exhibitions (Disabled World, 2013). At the event, different sports, including motocross, wakeboarding, rock climbing, kayaking, mountain biking, martial arts, and skateboarding were featured, and medals and prize money were awarded to the top athletes of each category (Disabled World, 2013). The Extremity Games, according to one source, surpassed expectations and had over 500 participating athletes, sponsors, spectators, and volunteers (Disabled World, 2013). The event itself was started by College Park Industries (a manufacturer of prosthetic feet) and was organized and in partnership with both the Athletes with Disabilities Network (ADN) and Adaptive Action Sports (AAS). In partnership with AAS, the Extremity Games were meant to serve as a qualifier for X Games’ events. Though adaptive skateboarding was not included in the X Games at the time, the Extremity Games was the first time physically disabled skateboarders were featured on a large stage and given a platform to showcase their skills and the sport of adaptive skateboarding. Though smaller and more localized adaptive skateboarding events continued throughout the years, it was not until 2019 that adaptive skateboarding was officially added to the X Games’ program. That year, an adaptive skateboard park contest was officially added. This event featured eight international adaptive skateboarders and was broadcasted live by the Entertainment and Sports Programming Network (ESPN). Notably, only a men’s competition was offered that year— with Vinicios Sardi of Brazil winning the inaugural competition. That same year, USA Skateboarding introduced adaptive skateboarding events to their national skateboarding championships. Two years later adaptive men’s and women’s street and park events were included at the Dew Tour in Des Moines, Iowa. This event, unlike the Extremity Games and X Games before it, featured riders with a range of different impairments including those with limb loss and 31 limb differences, visually impaired skateboarders, and those with spinal cord injuries. This event not only featured adaptive skateboarders, but, for the first time, included WCMX riders as well. The Dew Tour returned to Des Moines the following year, in 2022, and men’s and women’s adaptive street events were again featured. Though there was a men’s adaptive park competition on the program, there was no adaptive women’s park competition (Dew Tour, 2023). The response to these events appeared to be overwhelmingly positive from all those involved, and as a result, sparked serious conversation among stakeholders and athletes alike about the potential of adaptive skateboarding being added to the Paralympic Games. In fact, some have even claimed that adaptive skateboarding could be included as soon as the 2028 Los Angeles Summer Games (Berrics, 2019). Although the potential of adaptive skateboarding entering the Paralympic Games, at this moment, remains a pipe dream, skateboarding entities like USA Skateboarding have established adaptive committees in efforts to further support this “push.” Though WCMX is still often housed under the umbrella of adaptive skateboarding, it is important to acknowledge the history and development of the sport on its own. Wheelchair motocross, or WCMX for short, is an adaptive wheelchair sport where participants perform tricks and stunts adapted from skateboarding and BMX in customized wheelchairs in both skatepark and street space settings. While the term “WCXM” is what the sport in commonly referred to today, blending the words “wheelchair” and “BMX,” together, the sport has been referred to in other ways, including “hardcore sitting,” “wheelchair skating,” “wheelchair boarding,” and “chair skating.” Like Jon Comer’s role with adaptive skateboarding, the development of WCMX can largely be credited to one individual, Aaron “Wheelz” Fotheringham. Fotheringham was born with spina bifida and used crutches early on in his life for mobility purposes. However, by the time he was eight, he was using a wheelchair full-time. In 1999, at the age of eight, Fotheringham was 32 visiting a local skatepark with his father and brother, who, at the time, suggested that he try to ride and drop in on some of the ramps at the skatepark. Fotheringham accepted this challenge and after falling several times, was able to successfully drop in and roll away and was instantly hooked. Within a few years, Fotheringham was competing in BMX freestyle competitions around the USA and won the 2005 Vegas Am Jam BMX finals (Abilities, 2023). A year later Fotheringham became the first person in a wheelchair to do a single backflip (Abilities, 2023). By the time he was 18, Fotheringham was gaining international media attention for his WCMX performances. This media attention ultimately landed him a position with the Nitro Circus Live tour in 2010, and from there, WCMX became his full-time job (Abilities, 2023). Today, WCMX takes place all over the world where riders from a range of diverse cultures, backgrounds, and varying impairments participate in the sport. While numbers are difficult to come by in terms of how many people are activity participating in WCXM, I would ballpark this number to be in the thousands. In recent years, WCMX World Championships have been established, and international, national, and local WCXM competitions have started to emerge. While some of these competitions are exclusive to WCMX, many of these events are still grouped with adaptive skateboarding. This grouping has been somewhat of a contentious issue among those involved, as many within the WCMX world recognize WCMX as its own sport separate from adaptive skateboarding. Yet, given the similarities between the sports and the relatively small number of WCMX riders; participants of both disciplines are often coupled together during competitions. This mergence, according to some, has made it difficult for judges to accurately evaluate different riders, riding styles, and skillsets among competitors. Recognizing the similarities and differences between the two sports, in 2022, the Dew Tour elected to showcase WCMX riders in an exhibition event rather than grouping them with adaptive skateboarding. This 33 move, according to some, helped define WCMX, and allowed WCMX riders the space to showcase their own unique skillsets with and against other WCMX riders (Bane, 2022). 2.3.3 Sociocultural Analyses of Skateboarding and The Skateboarding (Sub)culture From skateboarding’s earliest incarnations, skateboarders have been involved in the sport for a variety of reasons, in a variety of different ways (Donnelly, 2008). While individuals may choose to start skateboarding for a variety of reasons, Beal and Wilson (2004) remind us that people often engage with the sport for its own sake and use the board as a figurative and literal tool for self-expression, risk-taking, creativity, and individuality. To borrow from O’Connor (2019), “you do not play skateboarding, you do skateboarding” (p. 7, italics added). What O’Connor and others are suggesting is that while someone may be able to skateboard and perform tricks and maneuvers, what really makes someone a skateboarder is their displayed and embodied styles and behaviours, attitude, and identity (Beal & Wilson, 2004; Beal, 2013; Borden, 2001, 2019; Kelly et al., 2008). Displaying and embodying the correct styles, behaviours, and attitudes are not only key to being a skateboarder but are used to make distinctions between authentic and inauthentic members (Atencio et al., 2009; Beal & Weidman, 2003; Wheaton & Beal, 2003). These markers, as I discuss below, are also entangled in, and influenced by a host of sociocultural factors like race, social class, age, gender, and, as I address within this work, disability. It has been argued that, due to the eclectic and diverse nature of the sport, skateboarding yields the capacity to transcend sociocultural factors like social class. For instance, scholars such as Borden (2019) have argued that diversity is not necessarily a weakness of skateboarding, but “its very strength” (p. 283). There is, perhaps, some merit to these claims in that skateboarding, when compared to more traditional team sport settings, requires minimal resources and can be done virtually anywhere, thus allowing for greater diversity in terms of participation among 34 different socioeconomic backgrounds (Atencio et al., 2018). To this end, Chivers Yochim (2010) contends that skateboarding “is not a class culture” (p. 21) that is constrained by one’s social class, but due to its minimal costs, is a sport that people from a range of socioeconomic brackets can participate in. Purportedly because of its ties to social class, Borden (2019) has made the claim that there are few racial tensions within skateboarding and has noted how skateboarders have, and continue to, embrace people of varied racial and ethnic backgrounds. Though skateboarding’s (sub)culture has become more racially and ethnically diversified (McDuie-Ra, 2023a; Williams, 2021), scholars have also illustrated how skateboarding remains a sport predominantly composed of (and controlled by) young, white, able-bodied, boys and men (Chivers Yochim, 2010). This control has meant that it has been difficult for those of marginalized communities to gain access to, and acceptance and opportunities within the skateboarding (sub)culture (Wheaton, 2013). Skateboard scholars have also increasingly drawn attention to the linkage between age and one’s experiences with skateboarding (see O’Connor, 2018a, 2019; Snyder, 2017). Work, for instance, has argued that while skateboarding remains relatively young sport and sporting endeavour; older skateboarders and those who were skateboarders when they were younger are increasingly becoming (re)acquainted with the sport (Willing et al., 2019). Work from O’Connor (2018a) on middle-aged skateboarders detailed how skateboarding can be an integral part of the biographies and identities of middle-aged skateboarders and highlighted how participation among middle-aged skateboarders allowed them to challenge the romanticized idea of skateboarding being a youth culture. O’Connor (2018a) came to conclude that age was not necessarily an issue of exclusion among skateboarders but was rather a social marker that provided many with status and legitimacy within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture. 35 Scholars have also illustrated the ways in which gender influences skateboarders’ experiences with and within the skateboarding (sub)culture. For instance, research has come to suggest that while female involvement in skateboarding is slowly increasing, participation rates among girls and women remains limited (Abulhawa, 2020; Bäckström, 2013; Carr, 2017; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2018). Girls and women have been excluded and marginalized within the skateboarding (sub)culture for a myriad of reasons. Early work from Beal (1995), for instance, illustrated how boys and men came to define skateboarding in ways that were exclusive of female skateboarders. Beal’s work noted how boys and men would often use exclusionary practices, like ignoring and trivializing girls and women, and in some cases, overt sexism to define skateboarding in ways that further marginalized girls and women. Research from Kelly et al. (2005) illustrated similar findings and detailed how some female skateboarders were harassed or dismissed by male skateboarders as posers, flirts, and intruders and were left ignored and isolated within skate spaces. Moreover, work from Beal and Wilson (2004) came to argue that one of the reasons why girls and women are marginalized within the skateboarding (sub)culture is because of the gender-based assumption that they are unwilling to take risks and engage in risk-taking behaviours. Work from Atencio et al. (2009) years later, illustrated similar findings, and highlighted how notions of risk and risk-taking behaviours influenced girls and women’s engagements with the sport. The authors illustrated how skateboarders’ overvaluation of risk-taking behaviours and the gender-based assumption that girls and women should avoid pain, injury, risk and risk-taking behaviours worked in ways to further push girls and women away from, and to the outskirts of, the skateboarding (sub)culture. Collectively, previous work has highlighted how various social, political, cultural, and historical factors can all influence the extent to which individuals participate in skateboarding. 36 2.3.3.1 Skateboarding and (Social) Media. Skateboarding and media have a long and intertwined relationship. Since the 1960s, photography has been used to capture and disseminate (sub)cultural information about skateboarders and the skateboarding (sub)culture to consumers (Snyder, 2017). Borden (2019) has even gone so far as to argue that photography has remained “the most essential mode of communication and promotion” (p. 78) within the skateboarding world. Photography and photographs have allowed skateboarders and skateboarding companies the opportunity to document and share valuable information about tricks, products, and spaces while simultaneously providing viewers a glimpse into the personal lives and lifestyles of skateboarders and their engagements within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture (Borden, 2019). Work from O’Connor (2019) and Jones (2011), for instance, has outlined how photographs of skateboarders and their actions can provide viewers the opportunity to learn new tricks, document personal development, set values, feel a sense of belonging, and even imagine idealized futures. Others have discussed how photography in magazines, zines, and online can play a significant role in providing certain (sub)cultural knowledges, and according to some, can act as a vital space for participants to display and obtain subcultural capital (Chivers Yochim, 2010; Wheaton & Beal, 2003). Throughout the late 80s and early to mid-90s the medium of video became popularized and quickly became a prominent component of skateboarding (Chivers Yochim, 2010; O’Connor, 2019). As technologies advanced and became more affordable, more skateboarders began to purchase devices to capture, document, and disseminate their skills, progress, and lifestyles (Beal, 2013; O’Connor, 2019). By the late 1990s and early 2000s, skateboard videos and skateboard-related media were at their peak (Borden, 2019; Buckingham, 2009). Videos were (and still are) used as an important (sub)cultural medium to display the skill, creativity, and performances of 37 skateboarders and have operated as key sites where viewers can learn from and further develop their skillsets (Borden, 2001). As a result, video became one of the most powerful mediums for riders to communicate and share their skills and progress (O’Connor, 2019). Watching and studying skateboarding videos can allow skateboarders the opportunity to develop ideas about their own riding styles, embodiments, and board orientations (Chivers Yochim, 2010). Through video, skateboarders are not only able to document their progress, but are able to use footage to compare themselves (and their progress) to others, which can allow for meaningful reflection and skill development (Chivers Yochim, 2010). Put another way, videos can come to be viewed as documents of identity, whereby skateboarders can “define the boundaries of the skateboarding culture and individuals participating in it” (Chivers Yochim, 2010, p. 140). These documents of identity, according to Chivers Yochim, celebrate the practices of skateboarding both on and off the board, highlight various cultural forms, styles, and attitudes associated with the sport, and display the aesthetic preferences of the (sub)culture. Yet, more than this, these documents of identity, according to Chivers Yochim, can be used by participants to help define themselves as skateboarders and can allow them the opportunity to further situate themselves and their (sub)cultural identities within the larger skateboarding community. Video has also been integral to skateboarding companies and marketers. As Borden (2019) asserts, skateboarding companies and marketers regularly produce skateboard films that highlight their sponsored riders and products in action. In turn, and when done right, skateboard videos can help companies generate revenue, provide key marketing tools, and can aid in the establishment and dissemination of core skateboarding values (Beal, 2013). The creation of company-related skateboard videos can not only benefit the companies and marketers that produce them but can 38 also have a profound impact on a skateboarder’s career and can result in sponsorship opportunities, increased social capital, and opportunities in the skateboarding (sub)culture (Borden, 2019). In today’s world much of this visual content is now shared on the internet and through social media platforms like Facebook, YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram. As Bock (2019) notes, while VHS cassettes, DVDs, and print magazines were responsible for the distribution and multiplication of audio-visual and print media representations of the skateboarding (sub)culture earlier on, today, video content and photography are distributed almost exclusively through social media platforms. The global expansion of the internet has meant that skateboarders and skateboard companies have relied almost exclusively on the internet and social media to convey and obtain knowledge about the skateboarding (sub)culture (Borden, 2019; Thorpe, 2017). Tracing the use of and popularity of the internet and social media within skateboarding’s larger (sub)culture, Borden (2019) highlights how the creation of YouTube in 2005 allowed skateboarders the opportunity to watch and disseminate content to the masses. A few years later, the first smartphones were launched by Apple, which changed the ways in which skateboarders made, distributed, and consumed skateboard media (Borden, 2019). In fact, numbers from 2014 highlight that 67% of US-based skateboarders used Instagram, 58% used Facebook, 46% used YouTube, and 17% used Twitter. Out of these numbers, it was determined that 74% of skateboarders ended up consulting at least one of these social media channels every week (Borden, 2019). One such social media platform that has been popular among skateboarders and the wider skateboarding (sub)culture is Instagram (Dupont, 2020). Instagram first launched in 2010, and according to recent statistics, has over two billion active users (Iqbal, 2023). Projections illustrate that the platform is on pace to reach 2.5 billion active users this year—making it the fourth most popular social media platform globally (Iqbal, 2023). The platform allows users to take, edit, and 39 upload photos or videos to a mobile application. From here, other users can view, comment on, like, or engage with posts in different manners like clicking hashtags or following links to other sources. Instagram’s emphasis on making visual content the foci of the platform has meant that many participants within action sport communities, such as skateboarders, have gravitated towards this platform to share and consume action sport content (Thorpe, 2017). Previous work has highlighted how social media platforms, like Instagram, have not only been used to galvanize participation rates and collaborations among skateboarders and industry professionals, but have allowed skateboarders the ability to connect with other like-minded individuals, and other marginalized community members (Bock, 2019; Borden, 2019; Snyder, 2017; Thorpe, 2017). Work from Gray (2019) for instance, highlighted how women and non-binary skateboarders used Instagram as a site to connect with and meet other marginalized skateboarders. These connections, fostered through Instagram, allowed these individuals the opportunity to build community, and at once, feel more comfortable skateboarding in public spaces. The expansion of the internet and advent of social media has also allowed action sport participants the opportunity to create and share self-produced media portrayals of themselves in ways that they would like to be represented (Thorpe, 2017). This is particularly true for those of marginalized communities who were not given space within traditional media outlets (Olive, 2015). For instance, work from MacKay and Dallaire (2013, 2014) illustrated how a group of young female skateboarders, known as the Skirtboarders, used online spaces and self-produced skate media to influence and construct their own sporting identities and to challenge the dominant sexist media portrayals of women in skateboarding. Similarly, work from Olive (2015) illustrated how women surfers used Instagram and their online representations to disrupt gender-based ideas and to assert themselves as a voice of authority within the wider surfing (sub)culture. In addition, 40 work has highlighted how skateboarders have used Instagram and their online portrayals to maintain and develop certain (sub)cultural identities (Bock, 2019; Dupont, 2020; Nichols, 2021). As Thorpe (2017) notes, expressing subcultural identities through social media sites is part of the identity work that many action sport participants routinely work on, craft, and maintain. Dupont (2020) for instance, found that skateboarders used Instagram and their engagements on the platform to develop, maintain, perform, and portray certain authentic identities. According to Dupont (2020), skateboarders regularly used their online portrayals to help maintain their own (sub)cultural position(s) and found that these portrayals were crucial to one’s identity and acceptance within the sporting (sub)culture. 2.3.3.2 Skateboarding and Space. Scholars from a range of disciplines, including sociology, anthropology, and (social) geography have drawn attention to the relationship between skateboarding and space—in both social and material ways (see Atencio & Beal, 2016; Howell, 2001, 2008; Németh, 2006; Nolan, 2003; Snyder, 2017; Woolley & Johns, 2001; Wooley et al., 2011). Work has highlighted how, similar to gender, race, or age, space can be conceived as a key structuring element of social life that influences everyday experiences and interactions. As Beal (2013) notes, unlike traditional sports, skateboarding does not have nor require a standardized venue, and can take place in “any space that has pavement” (p. 1). As a result, skateboarders are continually on the hunt for new skate spaces and urban architecture to engage with and perform tricks on and over. The process of finding skate spaces and engaging with them, has been described as an “interpretive activity” (Snyder, 2017, p. 22) that requires riders to see the world through a “creative prism” (p. 22) in which everyday material spaces become opportunities to perform manoeuvres on and over. 41 Today, street skateboarding is the most common material space that skateboarders engage with, with estimates suggesting that over 80% of all skateboarders engage with street skateboarding to some capacity (Kilberth, 2019). The popularity of street skateboarding, according to Beal and Wilson (2004), can be attributed to that fact that street skateboarding maintains a core status within the skateboarding world because of its reinforcement and celebration of risk-taking behaviours. As Peters (2018) outlines, street skateboarding can offer skateboarders the freedom and creativity to explore, occupy, and engage with different material spaces within the public realm that they deem ridable. These spots can include ledges, banks, gaps, handrails, and stairs, and are often not built with skateboarding in mind, but are rather, as Snyder (2017) details, “architectural happy accidents” (p. 16), where riders interpret and re-appropriate spaces and designs in unintended ways that work for them and their riding styles. These spatial engagements can be viewed as both a critique of urban development, and as a “land of opportunity with boundless possibilities” (Peters, 2018 p. 202) that render the city and its spaces as an unlimited playground. Scholars have argued that street skateboarding closely aligns with the emotions of “wildness” (Glenney & Mull, 2018, p. 443), “risk-taking” (Atencio et al., 2009, p. 11), “lawlessness and adventure” (Peters, 2018, p. 203), and “rebellion and resistance” (O’Keeffe & Jenkins, 2022, pp. 11-12). However, because of its risk-taking connotations, street skateboarding has remained a highly stigmatized practice that can result in fines and expulsion from certain areas (Snyder, 2017; Woolley et al., 2011). In part, these negative public perceptions towards skateboarding have stemmed from the general fear of the sport, and the risk of being struck by a rogue skateboard or skateboarder (Nolan, 2003). Yet, as others have noted, skateboarding, and particularly street skateboarding has been deemed an unacceptable activity by many, due to the noise generated through the activity and its disruptive nature (Németh, 2006; Owens, 2001; 42 Woolley et al., 2011). For instance, previous work has outlined how participation in street skateboarding can cause damage to public and private property by way of scratches, skid marks, and paint scuffs from the underside of the board or trucks left behind on features and architecture in urban spaces (Borden, 2001; O’Connor, 2018b; Woolley & Johns, 2001; Woolley et al., 2011). Subsequently, concerned citizens, property owners, and law enforcement officers have been able to use this damage as leverage to expel (and in more severe cases fine) riders from engaging with certain material spaces (Carr, 2010; Németh, 2006). One way to control skateboarders and their engagements with the streets has been through the creation of segregated skateparks, often located on the outskirts of communities, hidden away from the ebb and flow of public spaces and citizens (Woolley et al., 2011). These purposefully built spaces are often designed in efforts to take skateboarders off the streets, but as research has shown, offer riders a space to maximize different movement practices and skillsets on different paths, obstacles, and designs (Kilberth, 2019). These built environments, as Beal (2013) notes, can not only serve advanced skateboarders, but can provide an important space for those learning how to ride. According to Ma and Munter (2014) skateparks often function as training grounds where skateboarders can develop skills and confidence that can then be transferred to the streets and other urban spaces. These built spaces can also function as hangout areas for community members, and as research suggests, can promote sociality and wellbeing among its users (Taylor & Khan, 2011; Vivoni, 2009). Work from Dumas and Laforest (2009) confirmed these points and demonstrated how skateparks can function as “valuable health-resource” (p. 19) that can provide a range of social, psychological, and physical resources that espouse safe and active lifestyles. Relatedly, research from Shannon and Werner (2008) highlighted how, following the opening of a skatepark, youth in the community were more inclined to “spend time outside of the house, engaged in more 43 physical activity…and enjoyed more social leisure with peers” (p. 39). In addition, work from Wood et al. (2014) illustrated how skateparks can encourage users to exhibit pro-social behaviours such as cooperation, learning from others, socializing, and comradery within the space. Building on this work, Atencio et al. (2018) highlighted how skatepark users, parents, children, community members, and industry professionals are increasingly using skateparks and skateboarding as a tool to gain physical, social, cultural, and economic capital. The authors came to conceptualize skateparks as urban platforms for capital and argued that skateparks are not only vital to communities, but can allow skateboarders the opportunity to develop skills, networks, and work ethics that can be transferred outside of skateboarding into the “real world.” Though this work above has highlighted how skateparks can provide an array of benefits to those who engage with them, research has also discussed how gaining access to (and within) these spaces is not necessarily a straightforward process for all users and can be hampered by a range of social, economic, cultural, and structural barriers (Abulhawa, 2020; Carr, 2017; Snyder, 2017). Work from Beal and Wilson (2004), for instance, posits that skateparks can just as easily operate as sites of control and access whereby park users and their activities are monitored, regulated, and controlled. The authors came to outline how mandatory equipment and protective gear, and associated costs to enter a skatepark can limit and prevent those users who do not have the right equipment or funds from accessing them. Work from others has illustrated how social factors like gender (Atencio et al., 2009, 2016; Kelly et al., 2008) can impact users’ engagements with, access to, and experiences within different skatepark settings, while others have illuminated how the location of a skatepark and its proximity to public transit and other public infrastructure can influence park users’ engagements with these built spaces (Freeman & Riordan, 2002; Woolley & Johns, 2001). 44 2.3.4 Disability Sport, Physical Activity, and Leisure Although disabled people have always participated in sport, only recently have researchers started to explore the intersections of disability, sport, physical activity, and leisure. Using different methodologies and theoretical perspectives, scholars researching disability sport have explored a wide range of topics, including elite-level disability sport (Bundon et al., 2018), parasport and the Paralympic Movement (Dean et al., 2021; Howe, 2008a), disability and leisure (Gatt & Trussell, 2023), disability and physical education (Barber, 2018), and disability and coaching (Townsend & Cushion, 2021; Townsend et al., 2022). In addition, researchers have endeavoured to explore different types of disability sport, including wheelchair sport (Berger, 2009), visually impaired sport (Powis, 2020), deaf sport (Irish et al., 2018), high support need athletes (Lowry et al., 2022), and disabled peoples’ engagements with adaptive sports (Liu et al., 2022). This work has not only helped expose how ableism, and ableist policies and practices shape the everyday experiences of disabled people within different sport, physical activity, and leisure settings but has provided directions on how to make these sports more inclusive, accessible, and welcoming to disabled people (Brittain et al., 2020). In addition to this work, studies have demonstrated how having an active lifestyle and participating in sport, physical activity, and leisure can reduce disabled peoples’ risk of sedentary health problems and chronic diseases and enhance all levels of functioning (Carty et al., 2021; Martin Ginis et al., 2021). Studies have also illustrated how participation in sport and leisure can offer disabled people an increased sense of personal empowerment, community, and belonging, and can enhance self-confidence, understandings of self, and quality of life (Huang & Brittain, 2006; Shapiro & Martin, 2010). Despite the fact that studies of disability sport have gained traction in recent years, Smith and Sparkes (2012) remind us that there are still several notable gaps within disability sport, 45 physical activity, and leisure literature. One gap identified by Smith and Sparkes (2012) pertains to the lack of academic literature on the topic of disability leisure time physical activity (LTPA). According to Moore et al. (2012), LTPA can be understood as “physical activities that are not required as essential activities of daily living and are performed at the discretion of the person” (p. 2). One such area of LTPA that has gained popularity within the wider disability community has been that of adaptive sports, and as I will discuss in greater detail below, adaptive action sports. As outlined in Chapter 1 of this dissertation, adaptive sports refer to “any modification of a given sport or recreation activity to accommodate the varying ability levels of an individual with a disability” (Lundberg et al., 2011a, p. 206). A key feature of adaptive sport, according to Lundberg et al. (2011a), is the “provision of specialized equipment [which] facilitates as much independent participation as possible” (p. 206) for the disabled participant. The growth of adaptive sports has offered physically disabled people the opportunity to participate in sport, physical activity, and leisure in ways that work for them and their abilities (Diaz et al., 2019; Labbé et al., 2019). Previous research has illustrated how adaptive sports can offer disabled participants many social, cultural, and physical benefits (Mavritsakis et al., 2021). Work from Diaz et al. (2019) and Lape et al. (2018) illustrated how adaptive sports can positively impact disabled peoples’ body image, self-efficacy, self-competence, and overall quality of life. Work from others has highlighted how participation in adaptive sports can provide disabled people with opportunities to build and expand social networks, experience freedom and success, and feel a sense of normalcy (Lundberg et al., 2011b). Moreover, studies have highlighted how participation in adaptive sports can provide disabled people with enhanced levels of self-confidence, autonomy, and greater independence (Blauwet et al., 2017; Heo et al., 2008) and can improve their overall health (Groff et al., 2009). 46 The growth of adaptive sports has also trickled outside of traditional sport settings and has increasingly becoming popular within informal action sport setting as well, like surfing (Cruz et al., 2021), snowboarding (Frumberg et al., 2019), and rock climbing (DelGrande et al., 2020). Adaptive action sports not only offer an opportunity for disabled people to get outside and be active, but can offer a variety of physical, psychological, and social benefits (Denq & Delasobbera, 2018; Labbé et al., 2019). Work from Frumberg et al. (2019) illustrated how participation in adaptive snowboarding improved the physical and mental wellbeing of disabled participants, while research from Mavritsakis et al. (2021) illustrated how adaptive snow sports may provide disabled people with opportunities to learn new skills, overcome challenges, enjoy the outdoors, and establish meaningful relationships and a sense of community. Research from Lopes et al. (2018) and Moore et al. (2018) echoed these findings and outlined how participation in adaptive surfing can play a significant role in the lives of disabled people and illustrated how participation in the adaptive sport promoted physical wellbeing, combated discrimination, built confidence, and played a key role in the rehabilitation process for those who had acquired their impairment. Although research has highlighted the benefits of participating in sport, physical activity, and leisure for disabled people, researchers have also noted how disabled people are far more likely to be inactive than non-disabled people (Martin Ginis et al., 2021). While accurate data about disabled peoples’ participation in sport, physical activity, and leisure is hard to come by (and highly contextual and geographically-specific), information from the CDC (2019) highlights how only 53% of disabled people regularly participate in physical activity, while 47% get no aerobic physical activity at all. Disabled people are three times more likely than non-disabled people to experience heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and cancer (CDC, 2019). Though participation in sport and physical activity can help lessen the likelihood of disabled people experiencing these health 47 complications (Aitchison et al., 2022), it is important to also acknowledge that participation in sport, physical activity, and leisure is not necessarily a straightforward or easy process for disabled people and can be shaped and constrained by personal, social, cultural, economic, and structural barriers (Martin Ginis et al., 2016; Richardson et al., 2017a). Studies have illustrated how personal barriers can hinder disabled peoples’ engagements with sport, physical activity, and leisure practices. For instance, work has illustrated how a lack of skill or perceived lack of skill can inhibit disabled people from participating in sport, physical activity, and leisure (Aviram et al., 2022). Moreover, studies have highlighted how a lack of (perceived) skill and fears of being stigmatized or made fun up can deter disabled people from pursuing sport, physical activity, and leisure (Brittain, 2004; Ives et al., 2021). Relatedly, research has demonstrated how not knowing how to exercise or perform certain activities or movement practices can prevent disabled people from trying certain sports or leisure activities (Shields et al., 2012). In addition, research has detailed how a fear of injury, or the risk of sustaining an injury can also deter disabled people from engaging in sport (Matsuwaka & Latzka, 2019). For instance, Burns et al. (2013) detailed how risk, and the thrills generated from participation in the sport, was a primary driver that motivated disabled people to participate in outdoor leisure, while for others, was the main reason why they choose not to engage in such leisure pursuits. The authors concluded that perceptions of risk among disabled people can both disable individuals and challenge disablist views of disability. Previous research has also illustrated how negative perceptions, attitudes, and behaviours towards disabled people can influence their engagements and experiences in sport, physical activity, and leisure settings (Ives et al., 2021). For instance, Brittain (2004) illustrated how negative attitudes and perceptions towards disabled people from parents, coaches, teammates, and staff can influence their participation in sport, physical activity, and leisure, while others have 48 detailed how the lack of support from coaches and sporting staff can not only influence disabled peoples’ experiences within sport but can also influence their access to and acceptance within different sporting cultures and spaces (Fitzgerald, 2018; Townsend et al., 2018). Research has also drawn attention to how larger social, cultural, and economic factors can influence disabled peoples’ participation in sport, physical activity, and leisure. For instance, studies have shown how political and cultural attitudes and religious beliefs can influence and hinder disabled people from engaging with and within different sport and leisure settings (Thomas & Smith, 2008). Other studies have outlined how social class and economic constraints can influence the types of sports and leisure pursuits disabled people can pursue, and whether they can pursue sport, physical activity, or leisure at all (Darcy et al., 2017; Thomas & Smith, 2008). For instance, research has illustrated how disabled individuals with greater financial backings are typically able to participate in a range of different sport, physical activity, and leisure practices, while those with less funds, and those from lower socioeconomical brackets often have limited options when it comes to participating in sport, physical activity, and pursuing certain leisure practices (Úbeda-Colomer et al., 2019). Work from others has demonstrated how age (Jaarsma et al., 2014) and race (Irish et al., 2022) can influence disabled peoples’ involvements and experiences in different sport, physical activity, and leisure settings. As DePauw and Gavron (2005) assert, disabled people of ethnic and racial minorities are often granted limited access to sport, physical activity, and leisure pursuits. Following similar lines, work from Hargreaves (2000) and DePauw and Gavron (2005) has illustrated how disabled girls and women have been continually marginalized and given limited access to, and opportunities in sport, physical activity, and leisure when compared to disabled men. In fact, it has been suggested that over 90% of disabled girls and women are not active in sport or 49 leisure practices and are less likely to be encouraged to participate in sport, physical activity, and leisure by healthcare professionals (Brittain, 2016). Common barriers that disabled girls and women encounter when pursing sport, physical activity, and leisure practices, include, but are not limited to, issues surrounding attitudes and behaviours, communication, language, culture, (sporting) environments, religion, and social beliefs (Clark & Mesch, 2018; Dean et al., 2021; Fitzgerald, 2018; Smith & Wrynn, 2014). Moreover, research has highlighted how disabled girls and women regularly encounter structural barriers in sport and leisure settings including: a lack of access to proper equipment, facilities, and trained practitioners, and face ongoing challenges regarding funding and accommodations in comparison to disabled men (Clark & Mesch, 2018). This nexus between gender and disability has led scholars, like Slocum et al. (2018), to suggest that disabled girls and women face “double discrimination” (p. 373) within society and sport, physical activity, and leisure settings based on their intersecting marginalized identities. 2.3.4.1 Disability Sport and (Social) Media. The relationship between disability and media has been a topic that has received considerable research attention. Studies have (continually) illustrated the role that media, and social media have in shaping different narratives about disability (Ellis & Goggin, 2015a, 2015b; Ellis et al., 2019). Early work from Butler (1998) illustrated that while there are many disabled people in the world, they often remain invisible and underrepresented in mainstream media. In cases where they are represented, they are often framed as “super crips” (overcoming all odds), “evil monsters,” “bitter and twisted bodies and minds,” or “pitiful charity cases” in need of care and attention (Butler, 1998, p. 83). Butler argued that these portrayals of disability not only have the potential to influence public perceptions and understandings about disability but can also influence the ways in which disabled people come to view and understand themselves and their 50 bodies. Though Butler’s work is now over two decades old, many of her ideas remain relevant today. Ellis and Goggin (2015a) illustrated that while times have changed regarding how we consume media, representations of disability and disabled people remain problematic and offensive and noted how media portrayals of disability often insinuate insulting, rude, threating, hateful, and discriminatory representations of disability that can manifest negative societal attitudes towards disabled people. Alongside this work, a significant body of research has explored the nexus between disability, sport, and media, and how disabled people are represented in sport-based media (see Brittain, 2004, Goggin & Newell, 2000; Howe, 2011; Howe & Silva, 2017). Recognizing that sport does not exist within an idyllic vacuum, immune to the influences of larger social, political, cultural, and historical forces; researchers exploring disability sport and media have illustrated how sport-based media outlets often tend to mirror mainstream media portrayals of disability, whereby disabled athletes remain absent from, or framed in problematic and troubling ways (Goggin & Newell, 2000; Thomas & Smith, 2008). Work from Brittain (2004, 2009) has illustrated that while media coverage of some major disability sport competitions, like the Paralympic Games, has increased, the coverage of disability sport is still quite limited. One explanation for this, according to Howe (2008b), could be that people who are in positions of power within large-scale media conglomerates are often white, middle-class, able-bodied males who have little to no understanding about disability or knowledge about what it is like to be disabled. Having individuals like this in positions of power can lead to situations where those represented in media are either defined by and (mis)represented, or subordinately portrayed by those in charge (Howe, 2008b). Such portrayals, and the lack of media exposure can subsequently lessen the possibility of disabled people either becoming aware of or inspired to take part in sport themselves (Brittain, 51 2004). The lack of coverage and stereotypical portrayals of disabled athletes have led scholars, like Antunovic and Bundon (2022), to argue that sport journalists have a “professional responsibility” (p. 4) to cover the Paralympic Games and issues of disability within their work. In addition to these findings, work from Howe and Silva (2017) has illustrated how mainstream media tend to favour athletes at the top of the hierarchy of disability and those who adhere more closely to normalized, able-bodied aesthetics and capacities, or those who are seen as cyborg athletes who use sleek, fetishized technologies to participate in sport, physical activity, and leisure pursuits. Conversely, the celebration of cyborg athletes has also raised questions and concerns regarding mistrust, accusations of cheating, and even a moral panic when disabled athletes threaten to outperform able-bodied athletes (Howe, 2011, Miah, 2003; Norman & Moola, 2011). Along with these framings, studies have illustrated how media outlets often frame disabled people as victims or courageous individuals who battle against the odds to overcome their tragic disabled fate (Berger, 2009; Brittain, 2009; Goggin & Newell, 2000; Hardin & Hardin, 2004; Howe, 2008b; Peers, 2012). Such depictions, as Smith and Sparkes (2012) detail, have been heavily critiqued for not only reinforcing negative perceptions and stereotypes of disability but have been criticized for turning disabled athletes into “supercrips.” Supercrip, according to Berger (2009), can be understood as an athlete who, with courage, hard work, and dedication can prove that they can accomplish the impossible and heroically triumph over the tragedy of their disability. Following similar lines, Grue (2016) has argued that portrayals of disabled people and disabled athletes have the potential to evoke what he calls, “inspiration porn” (p. 838) for non-disabled viewers. While some have argued that such media depictions can be inspiring for some disabled people (Hardin & Hardin, 2004), studies have also raised issues with these portrayals and have argued that they foster unrealistic expectations about what disabled people can and should achieve, 52 if only they were to try hard enough (Berger, 2009). Such depictions can impact those who are unwilling or not able to, for bodily, structural, or economic reasons engage with sport, physical activity, or leisure (Smith & Sparkes, 2012). Over the last decade the ways in which disabled people consume and share news, media, and information has changed drastically with the proliferation of smartphones and the advent of social media platforms like, Facebook, X (Twitter), TikTok, and Instagram (Ellis & Kent, 2016). As a result of this shift, researchers have drawn increased research attention to exploring disabled peoples’ engagements with smartphones and their experiences online and on social media platforms. Work from Ellis and Goggin (2013, 2015a), for instance, has detailed how social media can operate as an important site for communication, exchange, and activism among disabled people, while others have highlighted how these sites can offer the potential to increase employment and leisure opportunities for disabled people (Ellis & Kent, 2016). Within sport, work from Haslett and Smith (2019) illustrated how social media platforms can offer disabled athletes the opportunity to engage with and in disability activism. The researchers found that parasport athletes were able to represent multifaceted identities on social media and were able to depict themselves as “thriving athletes”, “inspirational role models,” and a “conscientious citizens with concern for social justice” (p. 200). Relatedly, work from Wadey and Day (2018) revealed how disabled athletes used social media to share content and stories about their progress as sport participants. These online engagements, according to Wadey and Day, helped inspire other disabled people to get involved in sport, physical activity, and leisure practices. This work also illustrated how disabled athletes used social media to build and extend their social networks and to connect with other likeminded individuals around the world who had expertise and shared interest in the same sporting pursuits. These connections fostered through 53 social media offered disabled people the opportunity to access and share valuable information and resources related to their specific sport, and at once, provided them a space to discuss and share ways to overcome barriers related to sport, physical activity, and leisure (Wadey & Day, 2018). The proliferation of social media platforms has also meant that disabled people and disabled athletes alike can now control, express, and represent themselves in ways that they would like to be viewed (Mitchell et al., 2021a; Toffoletti et al., 2022). Research from Cocq and Ljuslinder (2020), for instance, found that self-representations shared by disabled people on social media were used to make disability and the discrimination encountered by disabled people visible to other users, and was used as a tool to bring about social change. Within sport, research has highlighted how disabled athletes have used social media to showcase their sporting pursuits and sporting identities (Smith et al., 2016; Toffoletti, 2018). Moreover, studies have highlighted how self-produced online portrayals on social media can offer disabled athletes the opportunity to represent themselves and their performance in meaningful and empowering ways and can be used to bring awareness about disability and disability sport (French & Le Clair, 2018). For instance, work from Mitchell et al. (2021a) found that disabled athletes used self-representations on Instagram to counteract negative stereotypes associated with disability and argued that these online depictions may offer disabled athletes the opportunity to “change the narrative” (p. 334) and promote the capabilities of disabled athletes rather than focusing on their disabled fates. Relatedly, work from Toffoletti (2018) highlighted how disabled sportswomen used self-representations on Instagram to craft feminine sporting identities in efforts to generate greater media exposure and visibility for disabled sportswomen. This work demonstrated that while self-representations on Instagram may seem liberating, the dynamic is that women were still pressured to conform to certain understandings of femininity in their online representations. 54 Against this work, studies have also detailed unique issues and challenges that disabled people have encountered when engaging with social media platforms. As Ellis and Kent (2011) warn, there is a potential that social media platforms can just as easily replicate the inaccessibility and discriminatory attitudes that disabled people regularly encounter offline. In their work, they illustrated how many social media platforms remain inaccessible and can further marginalize to some degree and, as a result, deny disabled users the opportunity to engage with these digital spaces (Ellis & Kent, 2011). This point is notable, as research has also illustrated how disability can be activated differently online when compared to the real world and can unevenly affect individuals differently based on their impairment (Ellis & Kent, 2011, 2016; Goggin & Newell, 2003) and can further marginalize and exclude disabled people based on their inability to access the tools and features embedded on the platforms (Ellis & Goggin, 2013). In addition to these points, studies have also illustrated how negative interactions on these platforms aimed at disabled people can influence their engagements with and on social media platforms and in more severe cases, can have a negative impact on their self-image and how they view themselves (Cocq & Ljuslinder, 2020; Trevisan, 2020). 2.3.4.2 Disability Sport and Space. Over the years, researchers have explored the relationship between disability and space and have outlined how different bodies (do not) engage with and access material and social spaces (see Guffey, 2017; Hamraie, 2017; Titchkosky, 2011). Victor Finkelstein (1975) and Ronald Mace (1985) were some of the first scholars to draw attention to how space can both enable and constrain certain bodies through practice and design. Finkelstein was an early leader in the disability rights movement from South Africa and famously posed the question, “What if we designed an upside-down world created for wheelchair users?” (p. 1975). Guided by this question, he imagined a 55 different world where a village was shaped entirely by wheelchair users’ and their needs. In this utopic world, all residents were wheelchair users and could control all aspects of their life. The residents in this world could access assorted services and infrastructure and could roll around the streets and sidewalks with ease. In this world, able-bodied individuals were the ones disabled by society. Only was it when able-bodied individuals got together that they were able to realize that their disability had a social solution where the wheelchair users needed to make design changes to the door and ceiling heights to accommodate the able-bodied. In this work, Finkelstein illuminates how ableist designs can exclude individuals who do not fit within the definition of normal and highlights how disability and understandings of it can shift depending on the context—where certain societies are more willing to accommodate different bodies in material and social ways. Drawing parallels to Finkelstein’s work, architect Ronald Mace (1985) later came to develop the concept of Universal Design. Mace described Universal Design as the practice of designing all products and the built environment to be aesthetic and usable to the greatest extent possible for all users. Universal Design, according to Hamraie (2017), emerged from ideas related to barrier-free design, the accessibility movement, and adaptive and assistive technologies. Barrier-free design was first coined in the 1950s and was created in effort to remove physical barriers from the built environment for disabled people (Holmes-Siedle, 1996). The concept was used to draw explicit attention to issues of access for disabled people and was meant to focus solely on the lives and experiences of disabled people (Berube, 1981). Mace asserted that Universal Design differed from barrier-free design in that it did not solely account for just disabled people and their engagements with the built environment but focused on creating accessible designs that were built to be used and engaged with by all users regardless of age, ability, or social position. 56 Mace’s notion of Universal Design catalyzed architects, designers, and urban planners to implement Universal Designs within their own practices when developing material spaces. Scholars have continued to explore, expand upon, and critique these earlier ideas in efforts to provide more insight and nuance into the ways in which different bodies (do not) engage with and experience different social and material spaces. Hamraie’s (2017) work, for instance, questioned Universal Design, and the widely held belief that Universal Design is “good” and “for everyone” and queried: “Who counts as everyone?” (p. xiv). Guided by this question, Hamraie discussed how designing a more inclusive world for everyone has taken shape through specific arrangements of knowing and meaning making, in a process that they call, access-knowledge. Hamraie outlined how access-knowledge is produced by able-bodied people in positions of power, like rehabilitation experts, policymakers, architects, and designers, and argued that these individuals decide who everybody entails. Hamraie argued that access-knowledge is largely derived by ideas of what these individuals think different users’ needs are and are underpinned by assumptions about what kinds of people are “likely to be in the world” (p. 5). These assumptions from experts, as Hamraie argues, often dismiss or undermine the experiences of disabled people and rely upon their own (able-bodied) knowledge when planning and developing spaces. Research from Tanya Titchkosky (2011) explored the meanings of access from a disability studies perspective. Drawing attention to issues of access and space for disabled people, Titchkosky conceptualized access as a complex form of perception that organizes social-political relations between people in social spaces. In her analysis, Titchkosky argued that the exclusion of disabled people by design is still a routine practice within society. Titchkosky argued that the lack of access and accessibility within spaces for disabled people and the subsequent absence of disabled people within certain spaces often becomes naturalized to the point that even when 57 barriers and processes of exclusion are noticed, they are simply conceived as somehow natural, reasonable, sensible, and justifiable. Through this work, Titchkosky came to argue that rather than framing disability as an individual problem, we should view disability as a space to wonder about how different people interact in different social spaces, times, and contexts, and to explore how experiences and engagements within spaces produce certain cultural meanings of disability. In the end, Titchkosky challenges us to think about access as a process that connects to issues of inclusion and exclusion, identity, equity, and social justice, and notes how thinking about access as a social process can allow individuals the opportunity to reflect upon embodied differences, and at once, question ideas of belonging and who belongs in certain spaces, times, and contexts. In addition to this research, scholars have explored how disabled bodies (do not) engage with and within different sport, physical activity, and leisure environments. Studies have illustrated how the built environment within sport, physical activity, and leisure settings are often designed in ways that either prevent engagement within or bar access to disabled people (Ives et al., 2021; Jaarsma et al., 2014). Countless studies have illustrated how inadequate and inaccessible (sporting) facilities continue to hinder disabled peoples’ engagements with sport, physical activity, and leisure practices (Brittain et al., 2020; Carty et al., 2021; Ives et al., 2021; Jaarsma et al., 2014). Other work has illustrated how the lack of (adaptive) equipment and appropriate facilities within these spaces, like accessible washrooms and changerooms, continue to influence disabled peoples’ engagements with these spaces (Ives et al., 2021; Martin, 2013; Riley et al., 2008). In addition, research has illustrated how the location of sporting facilities can make it difficult for disabled people to access and engage with and has illuminated how sporting spaces are often located in difficult to access locations or are situated in areas that have limited transportation options (French & Hainsworth, 2001; Jaarsma et al., 2014). 58 2.4 Research Gaps and Potential Research Contributions The purpose of this chapter was to identify, discuss, and contextualize pertinent social theories that will be used to guide this dissertation research project and to provide an overview of existing literature on topics related to the interests and aims of this study. The research project described in the following chapter seeks to extend and contribute to this previous work. This dissertation project will expand upon the growing body of literature that has explored skateboarding and action sports through a sociocultural perspective. Notably, this study provides novel insight into the ways in which physically disabled people engage with and experience the adaptive action sports of skateboarding and WCMX, which, to my knowledge, have yet to be studied or examined from any academic discipline. Addressing this research gap, in my view, is important, as this study may provide valuable insight into the power and potential of, informal action sports for disabled people, and other marginalized community members. This study also offers the potential to further highlight how disabled people engage with, navigate, and experience different material and digital spaces and gleans insight into the ways in which ableist policies, practices, and designs influence, enable, and constrain certain engagements, movement practices, and access to different(sub)cultural, digital, and material spaces. Finally, this study adds to the growing body of research that has explored the intersections of disability and sport through CDS and expands upon scholarship that has used the analytical framework of intersectionality and posthumanism to explore areas related to sport, physical activity, and leisure practices and the experiences of marginalized participants within them. 59 Chapter 3: Methodology 3.1 Introduction In this chapter, I outline the research design of this dissertation project. I provide the reader with information about the ontological and epistemological assumptions that underline this dissertation work and discuss how my own positionality influenced the study. From here, I provide rationale and detail behind the methods used to collect data for this project and outline how participants were recruited for this study. I then, I provide the reader with demographic information about the participants involved in the study and detail how the data was collected, organized, and analyzed. I conclude this chapter by discussing some of the ethical considerations that were made throughout the study and draw attention to some of the ethical tensions that transpired throughout the research process. 3.2 Ontological and Epistemological Positions As outlined earlier, this study is grounded in CDS, which, as the name suggests, draws heavily upon critical theory in attempts to reveal, critique, challenge, and transform power structures that exist within different societies and cultures (Bohman, 2005). Those using critical theory argue that social and cultural problems are not created by individuals and their personal choices, but rather stem from larger social structures and cultural assumptions (Bohman, 2005). Critical theory not only attempts to reveal how social, cultural, political, historical, and ideological forces shape and constrain peoples’ lives and lived experiences, but seeks to transform such conditions through emancipation, calls to action, and pragmatic tools and developments (Morrow & Brown, 1994). The theoretical backing of this study is also linked to the ontological and epistemological positions taken in this work. These philosophical perspectives, as Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2011) highlight, are important to acknowledge within any research project, as they divulge 60 the assumptions that underpin the decisions made throughout the research process, including the research design, methodology, method, and the interpretation of data. Being explicit about one’s ontological and epistemological positions, according to Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2011), ensures that the research outcomes are both appropriately and meaningfully interpreted. Ontology, in its most basic form, can be understood as the study of existence. One’s ontological position not only questions what can exist in the world but also questions reality and ideas of truth and claims being made about reality (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2011). A relativist ontological position, for instance, assumes that no one true reality exists. Those operating from a relativist position believe that reality is relatively conceived according to how individuals experience it and believe that there is no absolute truth or one reality, but rather, that multiple truths and multiple realities exist and are shaped by the experiences of people across different times, spaces, and contexts (Killam, 2013; O’Grady, 2014). Those situating their work in CDS often draw upon relativist ontologies in their work in efforts to describe the sociopolitical constructions of disability and the impact of these constructions on disabled people and their lived experiences in different social and cultural environments (Hall, 2019). As noted in Chapter 2, CDS approaches disability as a social and cultural category and focuses on exploring and understanding the lived experiences of disabled people across diverse geographical and temporal contexts (Shildrick, 2012). In other words, those using CDS come to view disability not necessarily as an individual characteristic, but rather as a social construct that finds its meaning in different social and cultural contexts (Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009). Recognizing the social and cultural contingencies of disability, those working in CDS often latch onto relativist ontologies in efforts to explore and expose how perceptions and constructions of disability impact disabled people and their experiences within different social and cultural environments (Goodley et al., 2019). 61 A relativist ontological position sits in stark contrast to those who adopt positivist and post-positivist ontologies in their work, like realists and critical realists. A realist ontology works from a perspective that believes that there is one single reality that exists (Tamminen & Poucher, 2020). This reality is studied, understood, and experienced as truth, and exists independent of the individual or human experience (Tamminen & Poucher, 2020). Those using a critical realist ontology would concede with such statements and maintain the idea that there is a real world and singular reality that exists independent of peoples’ perceptions, theories, and constructions of it (Maxwell, 2012). Yet, critical realists also accept the idea that one’s understanding of the world and the ways in which they navigate, move through, and engage with it are different and are shaped by their environment and their social location within it (Stutchbury et al., 2022). In recognizing my use of CDS and in acknowledging that human experiences are complex, highly subjective, contextual, and shaped by larger social, political, and cultural forces, I draw largely upon a relativist ontological position in this work. However, at point points, the reader will note how I tend to be influenced more so by critical realist philosophies and accept that larger social, political, and cultural forces can have real world implications on the lives, experiences, and realities of disabled people. In part, my pivot towards critical realist philosophies may be rooted in the idea that relativism has been critiqued for not offering a way forward and for providing little to no practical tools or actions for improving the lives of disabled people (see Spagnuolo, 2016; Vehmas & Watson, 2013). However, one of the other draws to critical realism is its attentiveness to the physicality of disability and explorations of how pain and impairment can influence the realities of disabled people (Shakespeare, 2013). Thus, without denying the fact that multiple realities and truths may exist, I also recognize that there are some overarching experiences and realities that oppress disabled people, and as a CDS scholar doing critical research, it is my job to 62 make such oppressions visible in efforts to improve the conditions of disabled people in the real world through action and social change (Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shakespeare, 2013). While ontology is concerned about questions of existence, epistemology is concerned with the nature of knowledge, and how knowledge is produced (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2011). I adopt a subjectivist epistemology in this work that focuses on the idea that knowledge is created through transactions and exchanges between myself (the researcher) and the participant (Tamminen & Poucher, 2020). More than that, a subjectivist approach acknowledges that a researcher cannot enter a study as a “blank slate,” where their previous experiences and understandings are separate (and absent) from themselves and the research (Tamminen & Poucher, 2020, p. 538). Rather, those using a subjectivist approach are encouraged to interrogate and account for how previous experiences my influence how the data is interpreted. Guided by CDS and acknowledging both my ontological and epistemological positions, and the fact that I did not merely enter this research project as a blank slate, I now turn to outline how my positionality shaped this research project. Following the work and words of Yoon (2019), it is important to acknowledge that this dissertation project is a reflection and subjective interpretation of my own positionality and lived experiences. I entered this project from a very privileged position in society. I am a relatively young, white, cis-gendered, heterosexual male who is both able-bodied and able-minded. I have extensive university training in the realm of sociology and kinesiology and have a Canadian citizenship. Though I have a Canadian citizenship, I also recognize that by virtue of my families’ histories and migration patterns I am both a visitor and settler here, in what is known as Canada. More accurately, I have had the privilege to work, learn, live, and play on the unceded land of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) peoples over the last seven years. I come from a working/middle-class background and was exposed to 63 many sporting opportunities growing up, including traditional sports like hockey and lacrosse and more non-traditional sports like skateboarding, mountain biking and surfing. Acknowledging and identifying this background information and my positionality within this project is key, as my social position, previous experiences, and status within the study, influenced the entire study. 3.3 Insider/ Outsider Status In large part, my allure to this project was (and is) because I am a skateboarder. As outlined in Chapter 1, I have been skateboarding and immersed in the wider skateboarding (sub)culture for close to twenty years now. Though my relationship with skateboarding has ebbed and flowed over the years, it is something that I have been continually drawn back to time-and-time-again. I have skateboarded in different countries all over the world, connected with people through the sport, and have worked in and studied the Canadian skateboarding industry. These experiences, to many, would cast me as a cultural insider. This distinctive status in this work offered several benefits, including the ability (and ease) to build rapport with the participants (Wheaton, 2013) and the ability to understand the lexicon used by riders (Snyder, 2017). Moreover, my experiences with and understandings of skateboarding and its encompassing (sub)culture allowed me the opportunity to explore certain topics and questions in greater depth and detail (Olive & Thorpe, 2011). Being immersed in the skateboarding (sub)culture over the last 20 years has also provided me with a solid understanding about the history of the sport and the ideologies and philosophies that have circulated within it. Having this knowledge not only helped facilitate conversations with the participants but was used to help structure the interview guide and, at times, to probe and ask follow-up questions throughout the interview process (Rubin & Rubin, 2005). Though I am inclined to say that simply being a skateboarder granted me this type of access within this dissertation work, it was clear that my social position as a white, able-bodied, male 64 skateboarder played a significant role within this dissertation project. As Chivers Yochim (2010) and others have illustrated, skateboarding has long been a space where white, able-bodied, middle-class, heterosexual boys and men have been granted power, privilege, and access over those who do not fit these criteria (Atencio et al., 2009; Beal, 1996; Carr, 2017). As a result, skateboarding has been, and remains, a sport that is predominately composed of those who look like me. Throughout my dissertation work, I was aware of the various privileges that I held (and continue to hold) in society and within the world of skateboarding and, when asked, was forthcoming to the participants about my cultural insider status throughout the project. Though having a cultural insider status was, and can be, fruitful in many ways, scholars have also drawn attention to some of the complexities of having a cultural insider status when conducting research on and within a researcher’s own sporting (sub)culture. For instance, scholars have noted how having an insider status can raise questions regarding validity, reflexivity, and power within the research process (Olive et al., 2018), while others have highlighted the complexities of negotiating multiple roles in the field (i.e., critical researcher and active participant) (Olive & Thorpe, 2011; Thorpe & Olive, 2016; Wheaton, 2004). One aspect that I found particularly difficult to negotiate was my ability to maintain a critical distance between my own actions, assumptions, and subjectivities and the participants’ actions, assumptions, and subjectivities. According to Wheaton (2002), maintaining a critical distance is necessary to both contextualize and theorize the lived experiences shared by the participants. In recognizing the importance of maintaining this critical distance, I elected to use reflexive fieldnotes to document my own actions, subjectivities, and worldviews throughout the research process. These reflexive fieldnotes were taken throughout the entire research project and were woven into and reflected upon when analyzing and interpreting the dataset (see Chapters 4, 5, 6). 65 Although I would consider myself a cultural insider when it comes to engagements with and knowledge of the skateboarding (sub)culture, I am also mindful that my own positionality as an able-bodied researcher cast me as an outsider within this dissertation project. I am both able-bodied and able-minded and have not experienced a disability nor know what it feels like to be disabled. In fact, this point has left me to wonder if I, another able-bodied academic, should be the one conducting this research in the first place? This is a point of contestation that I have debated since I first showed interest in this topic and is something I continue to think about. I am aware that some disabled researchers have made the argument that non-disabled researchers should simply stay out of disability studies all together (Charlton, 2000). These claims, according to Goodley, are both founded and carry weight. As Goodley (2021) notes, able-bodied researchers “have much to do in order to think about their relationships to the phenomenon of disability and the lives and aspirations of disabled people [as far too often] particular worldviews have been pushed by powerful non-disabled people that threaten to dominate the stories told of disability” (p. 6). Yet, at the same time, Goodley also acknowledges that there is room for non-disabled researchers to conduct disability research and notes that one’s accounts of disability should not simply be dismissed because of their able-bodied status. In fact, many disability scholars have made similar claims and have argued that with the right approach and intentions, non-disabled researchers can conduct work on and with disability communities and disabled individuals in both respectful and meaningful ways (Brighton, 2016; Goodley, 2021; Tregaskis & Goodley, 2005). For instance, Kitchin (2000) argued that, disabled or not, all that is necessarily to conduct research on, and about, disabled people is that the researcher approaches their topic from a “disabled-friendly” (p. 36) perspective. Such perspective, according to Kitchin (2000), combines the experiential expertise of a disabled person with the analytical and reportorial skills of the 66 researcher to connect to lager social issues in efforts to improve the lives and experiences of disabled people. In this work, this perspective was used in conjunction with CDS to explore the extent to which ableism and larger social, political, cultural, and structural systems of power and oppression may influence the lives, experiences, and opportunities of disabled people, and to develop ways to improve these conditions (Goodley, 2016; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009). 3.4 Method Given my interests in learning more about the lived experiences of physically disabled riders and their engagements with and experiences within different skateboarding spaces, I elected to use a range of qualitative methods to address and answer the research questions guiding this dissertation project. Below, I highlight the methods and techniques used to collect data and recruit participants for this qualitative dissertation research project. 3.4.1 Participant Recruitment Following institutional ethical approval from the University of British Columbia’s Behavioural Research Ethics Board (BREB) (UBC BREB#: H21-01845), I began to recruit participants for the study. Participant recruitment took place between September 2021 and November 2021. Criteria to participate in the study included that the participant must a) be able to speak English, b) be 18 years of age or older, and c) had to self-identify as a physically disabled rider. This study was open to participants from all over the world. Admittedly, at the start of this study, I had no idea how many disabled riders there were globally and consequently did not know how recruitment would unfold. Given the relatively niche population being explored, I used several different techniques to recruit participants. One such technique included sharing a digital research poster (see Appendix A) from my personal Twitter (now known as “X”) account. Unfortunately, while this poster created buzz within the academic 67 Twitter world, no participants were recruited through this technique. In addition to using this digital research poster, I also used the recruitment technique of purposeful sampling to contact potential participants to participate in the study. Purposeful sampling has been described as a qualitative sampling technique whereby the researcher relies on their own judgement when selecting members of a population to participate in a study (Palinkas, 2015). Those using this sampling technique select participants who have certain characteristics that are needed within the sample (Suri, 2011). Within this study, this process entailed contacting potential participants through email and direct messages on the social media platform, Instagram. Using a project-specific Instagram account, I shared information about the study, and followed related accounts, including adaptive skateboarders, WCMX riders, and adaptive skateboarding and WCMX organizations. As Sikkens et al. (2017) note, social media platforms, like Instagram, can help researchers find and identify hidden or marginalized populations like disabled people, and in this case, disabled riders. These ideas seemed to hold true for this study, as all 30 participants were recruited through Instagram. Though having an Instagram account was not a stipulation to participate in this study, by virtue of the recruitment techniques (and using Instagram to promote the study and recruit participants), all participants involved in the study were already engaged with and active on Instagram. In part, the success and ease of recruiting participants via Instagram could have been because of the already established and vibrant disability and action sport communities on Instagram, including adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders (Ellis & Kent, 2016; Thorpe, 2017). Yet could also be attributed back to the use and power of algorithms on the social media platform. Algorithms, according to Neyland (2015), can be understood as mathematical rules and calculations that organize, link, and configure digital data in personal ways that respond to the 68 users’ online interactions, searchers, followers, and consumption practices on social media. As a result of these online engagements, social media users are then marketed with products and content based off their previous online engagements and are provided suggestions on who to follow based off mutual online connections, previous searches, or shared interests (Cotter, 2019). For many, including Fast and Jago (2020), algorithms are either viewed in a negative manner or as an invasion of privacy and for good reason. Previous work, for instance, has illustrated how algorithms can operate in oppressive ways that (re)produce class, gender, and racial inequalities that disproportionally impact marginalized community members like women and racialized individuals (Couldry & Mejias, 2019; Joyce et al., 2021; Nobel, 2018). However, others like Goodley (2021), have taken more optimistic views on the use of algorithms and social media (particularly when it comes to research) and have argued that they can be used to help foster networks, community, friendships, and alliances for those of marginalized communities, such as disabled people. With Goodley’s ideas in mind, I found myself using the algorithms embedded within the project-related Instagram account to find potential participants. Using interests, previous searches on the platform, and information about who I followed, and who followed the account, the algorithms of Instagram would continually generate users to follow based off my engagements and interests on the platform. By way of this process, I was able to connect with, recruit, and speak with several participants that I would have otherwise likely never encountered. Though this process was useful at the time, upon further reflection (and as discussed in greater detail under the “limitations” section in Chapter 7”), recruiting all 30 participants via Instagram may have also introduced certain biases that influenced who did and did not participate in the study. Using the project-related Instagram account, I contacted potential participants through direct messages and provided them with a letter of introduction (see Appendix B) that detailed 69 information about the study and what involvement in the study would entail. Those who were interested in participating were then asked to share their email address and were forwarded a consent form (see Appendix C) to review, complete, and sign prior to the interview. The process of obtaining informed consent, as Palmer (2016) notes, is a crucial step in any research project, and allows the researcher the opportunity to notify the participant about the aims of the study, the methods being used, information on how the data will be presented, and the intended outcomes of the study, as well as details about any risks and benefits associated with their involvement in the study. The consent form distributed to participants also reiterated that their participation in the study was completely voluntary and outlined how they could withdrawal from the study at any point without giving any reason. Once the consent form was received, an interview was scheduled at a date and time of the participant’s choosing. 3.4.2 Demographic Questionnaire Prior to the interview, participants were sent a demographic questionnaire to complete (see Appendix D). This preliminary questionnaire was designed in a way to give me more information about the participant and their riding experiences (Hughes et al., 2016). Specifically, this information was used to confirm the participant’s eligibility to participate in the study and helped tailor the questions asked throughout the interview process (Patten, 2016). Information that was collected included their age, nationality, current location, gender identity, racial and ethnic identity, and impairment type. The questionnaire also asked the participant how long they had been riding and if they were affiliated with any skateboarding or disability (sport) organizations, and asked questions about their engagements with social media. 70 3.4.3 Semi-Structured Interviews Considering the research questions being explored in this dissertation project, and my interest in learning more about the everyday experiences of disabled riders within different spaces, I opted to use the method of semi-structured interviews. According to Smith and Sparkes (2016) “the purpose of [an] interview in qualitative inquiry is to create a conversation that invites the participant(s) to tell stories, accounts, reports and/or descriptions about their perspectives, insights, experience, feelings, emotion, and/or behaviours in relation to the research question(s)” (p. 103). My attraction to this method and reasons for centring this study around the method of semi-structured interviews, in part, stems from my own interest in humans and the act of storytelling. I truly enjoy talking to people, listening to their stories, and learning about people through the stories that they share. As Brinkmann (2013) notes, human beings are conversational creatures and through conversation we can come to know more about people, their lives, and their social worlds. Guided by these ideas, the method of semi-structured interviews was used in this study to capture the stories and lived experiences of disabled riders in different skate spaces. A semi-structured interview guide was developed and used during the interview process (see Appendix E). As Smith and Sparkes (2016) detail, semi-structured interviewing consists of the researcher developing a “pre-planned interview guide” that is used to ask participants “relatively focused but open-ended questions about a specific topic” (p. 104). These questions focused on topics related to the participants’ experiences with and within different environments, but also allowed space for the participants to share ideas and stories that were meaningful to them (Smith & Sparkes, 2016). By way of using a semi-structured interview guide, I was able to refine questions throughout the interview process, and at times, was able to probe for greater depth and detail about certain topics and experiences raised by the participants (Rubin & Rubin, 2005). 71 Due to the ongoing COVID-19 global pandemic, all interviews were conducted online over the computer mediated application, Zoom. While Salmons (2022) has outlined some limitations of online interviewing, such as encountering technological issues and the difficulties of capturing the subtleties of body language, tones of speech, and other social ques; the health, wellbeing, and safety of all participants (and myself) took precedence. Though, I did encounter some minor technological issues throughout the interview process, including issues of poor connectivity that resulted in a few fragmented sections of transcription, I am reminded that, without the option of online interviews, I would have not been able to conduct this work nor connect with anyone due to the ongoing global pandemic and the geographical distance between myself and the participants. 3.4.4 Social Media Post-Elicitation Throughout the interview process, I also drew upon an adapted form of auto-driven photo-elicitation, known as social media post-elicitation, where participants were asked to share and discuss social media posts from their own personal Instagram accounts. Photo-elicitation, also known as photo interviewing, refers to the process of inserting photographs into an interview to be discussed and elaborated upon by the participant and researcher (Harper, 2002). This technique can include photographs either selected or taken by the researcher (researcher-driven) or can include photographs selected or taken by the participant (also referred to as auto-driven or participant-generated). Regardless of approach, this technique has been touted as a useful method that can be used to enhance the interview process by using photos to spark discussion and generate knowledge through personal accounts, feelings, emotions, and memories shared by the participant (Harper, 2002). Using such technique can not only generate conversations that would otherwise be lost or difficult to get at through interviewing alone but can give the researcher valuable insight about the participant and their lived experiences, identities, and social worlds (Mills & Hoeber, 72 2013). Those who have used this technique have argued that this method can enhance participants’ descriptions and their ability to articulate certain experiences, feelings, and emotions (Phoenix, 2010). Others have outlined how this technique can contribute to theory by offering alternative ways of assessing the participants’ ideas, experiences, and worldviews—especially when the participants’ viewpoints may differ from the researchers due to identity differences, lived experiences, and familiarity with the phenomenon being explored (Mills & Hoeber, 2013). Although the method of photo-elicitation is hardly new within in the sociology of sport and disability studies (see Curry, 1986; Newbury, 1996; Snyder & Kane, 1990), advances in technology and easier access to equipment and digital applications have afforded researchers the opportunity to use innovative digital methods in their research projects (Goodyear & Bundon, 2021). Take, for instance, the recent work of Toll and Norman (2021) who used a version of auto-driven photo-elicitation to examine how young women garnered digital body capital on Instagram. Using participants’ pre-existing Instagram posts, the authors examined the content of the Instagram posts, and the practices, meanings, and affectivities that were generated through the participants’ postings and engagements on Instagram. Given both the significance and widespread use of Instagram among skateboarders (Dupont, 2020; Thorpe, 2017), and those within disability sport community (Mitchell et al., 2021a, 2021b), I opted to use a similar adapted form of auto-driven photo-elicitation to answer the study’s research questions. Guided by the work of Toll and Norman (2021), throughout the interview process, I invited participants to share Instagram posts from their own personal accounts that they either found meaningful or thought represented them and their experiences as a disabled rider within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. A social media post or post is a short form type of content or message that gets published on social media. On Instagram, posts often highlight visual content, 73 whereby users share photographs or videos for other users to view. Instagram posts can also include captions (blurbs of text), hashtags, geo-tags (that share a geographical location), tags (that highlight and link other users), audio (including music and other audio recordings), and alternative-text, or “alt-text,” which describes the appearance or function of an image to visually impaired users.1 In addition, Instagram users have the option to allow other users to comment on or engage with their posts by enabling comment sections and allowing users to “like” their posts. The multifaceted nature of Instagram posts can allow researchers the opportunity to gain valuable insight into the participants’ lives and social worlds, and at once, be used to add depth and nuance to the conversations had throughout the interview process. Given that all interviews were conducted online (over Zoom), the sharing of posts (between the participant and myself) throughout the interview process was not as straightforward as it may seem. When asked to select and share a post from their Instagram account, typically the participant would take a few minutes to open the application on their cellular phones or computers and would scroll through their posts and select a few posts to share and discuss with me. While participants looked for posts to share, I, too, went to their Instagram account (on either my computer or cellular phone) and reviewed their account as well. Once a participant indicated they had found a post, the participant would either share the post through the screen (using their phone) or would send a link of the post to the project-related Instagram account. Once I identified or received the post, I would confirm it with the participant and ask the participant to share a bit about the post, its content, and why they chose to share and discuss the post with me. This process also entailed asking the participants to share and discuss different facets of the post including their choice (of lack thereof) 1 See Appendix F for an example of an Instagram post and for detailed information about the various features of an Instagram post. 74 hashtags, geo-tags, audio selections, and the caption contained in the post. Due to time constraints, and the scope of the study, the comments on posts were not analyzed. I used the technique of screenshots to capture and catalogue the Instagram posts shared and discussed by the participants. As Moore (2014) details, screenshots have been described as a form of “virtual photography” whereby researchers capture still images of the content that they see on the screen to “provide evidence of screen activity” (p. 141). Practically speaking, once a participant identified an Instagram post, and granted me permission, a screenshot of the post and its content was taken and given a numerical number that corresponded to the participant in the dataset. The screenshot captured all aspects of the post including the visual content of the post and the captions, tags, hashtags, and any geo-tag associated with the post. Following the transcription of interviews, screenshots of the participants’ Instagram posts where woven into the corresponding participant’s interview transcript and placed in areas where the participant discussed their post(s). Linking these two sources of data together allowed for ease and convenience once I began to analyze the dataset, as all data were housed in one document. 3.4.5 Reflexive Fieldnotes Considering both the methods used to collect data and my own positionality within the study, I elected to use reflexive fieldnotes (in a digital journal) to capture and account for my own reflections, assumptions, accounts, and ideas during the interview process and throughout data analysis (Emerson et al., 2011). According to Finlay (2012) reflexive fieldnotes can be used to “improve the quality, rigor and validity of research” (p. 317). Others have also argued that reflexive fieldnotes can be used to account for the relationship between the interviewer and interviewee and can be used to examine (and articulate) how power is manifested and produced between the two throughout the interview process (Vähäsantanen & Saarinen, 2013). More than that, however, and 75 following the words of Anderson (2006), reflexive fieldnotes can be used to help researchers unravel how their own assumptions, positionalities, and biographies influence their interpretations and of the dataset. This point was particularly salient given my able-bodied positionality within this work. As previous scholars have noted, it is vital that able-bodied researchers doing work on and with disabled people not only recognize their positionality within the work, but remain critically reflexive, embodied, and empathetic throughout the entire research process (Brighton, 2016; Townsend et al., 2020). With these points in mind, I used reflexive fieldnotes before, during, and after interviews and throughout data analysis to parse and at points, interrogate my own assumptions and embodiments as an able-bodied researcher doing CDS research. Practically speaking, this process entailed writing fieldnotes, excepts, stories, and drawing illustrations in a (digital) journal throughout the study. Using this approach, I jotted down ideas in the moment and used these reflections to work through methodological and theoretical ideas and tensions, ethical questions, and to account for how my positionality influenced the interview process and my interpretations of the data (Emerson et al., 2011). When I first started collecting data for this project, I had intentions to write reflexive fieldnotes before and after interviews with participants. This worked out for the first few interviews. However, as the research process unfolded, I found myself scribbling down ideas and writing reflections at different times of the day (whether there was an interview scheduled or not). Through this reflexive practice, I was able to account for how my positionality and experiences as an able-bodied skateboarder and researcher influenced different aspects of the research process including the questions I asked, the interactions I had with participants, and the ways in which I read and interpreted the dataset. 3.5 Participants In total, 30 participants participated in the study. Demographic information for all 30 participants is detailed below in Table 1. 76 Table 1 Participant Demographic Data Name Impairment Type Acquired/ Congenital Age Race Gender Country Rider Style Years Riding Anyelo Limb Loss Acquired 37 Latino Male COL Skate 23 Brett VI Acquired 26 White Male CAN Skate 21 Coco VI Acquired 26 Black Male USA Skate 19 Colton VI Acquired 18 White Male USA Skate 9 Dan VI Acquired 34 White Male USA Skate 27 Darryl SCI Acquired 31 White Male CAN WCMX 26 David C. Limb Loss Acquired 29 White Male USA Skate 13 David L. SCI Acquired 35 White Male GER WCMX 13 Dorian SB Congenital 30 White Male NETH WCMX 5 Erik SCI Acquired 56 White Male USA WCB 6 Ernie CRS Congenital 33 Latino Male USA Skate 22 Gonzalo Limb Loss Acquired 29 Latino Male CHIL Skate 15 Ian Limb Loss Acquired 31 White Male USA Skate 18 Italo Limb Loss Acquired 31 Latino Male BRZL Skate 20 Jason Limb Loss Acquired 44 White Male CAN Skate 34 Jesse SCI Acquired 59 White Male USA Skate 47 Jonte SCI Acquired 27 White Male GER WCMX 17 Justin VI Acquired 35 White Male USA Skate 21 Katherine CP Congenital 36 White Female USA WCMX 10 Matt VI Acquired 32 White Male CAN Skate 26 Mike Limb Loss Congenital 31 White Male USA Skate 25 Nick VI Acquired 30 White Male USA Skate 20 Oscar Limb Loss Congenital 35 Latino Male USA Skate 20 Robert CRS Congenital 22 White Male NAMB Skate 4 Ronja SCI Acquired 21 White Female GER WCMX 4 Sebastian SCI Acquired 42 Latino Male CHIL WCMX 1 Timon RA Acquired 40 Asian Male GER WCMX 5 Toni CRS Congenital 21 Black Male BRZL Skate 18 Tracie MS Congenital 61 White Female USA WCMX 6 Vini Limb Loss Congenital 25 Latino Male BRZL Skate 10 77 There were a range of different physical impairments present in the study. Of the 30 participants, three had caudal regression syndrome (CRS), one had cerebral palsy (CP), nine of the participants were missing (a) limb(s) (Limb Loss), one participant had multiple sclerosis (MS), one had rheumatoid arthritis (RA), one had spina bifida (SB), seven had spinal cord injuries (SCI), and seven were visually impaired (VI). Of the impairments outlined, nine were congenital (and present at birth), and 21 were acquired. For those who had acquired their impairment, all but one participant (Ronja) noted how they were involved in skateboarding or BMX prior to impairment. The mean age among the participants was 33 years of age, with a range from 18 to 61 years of age. The mode and median age were both 31 years of age. In terms of racialized identity, 20 participants self-identified as white, seven self-identified as Latino, two self-identified as Black, and one self-identified as Asian. At the time of the study, three participants resided in Brazil (BRZL), four were from Canada (CAN), two from Chile (CHIL), one from Columbia (COL), four from Germany (GER), one from Namibia (NAMB), one from the Netherlands (NETH), and 14 from the United States of America (USA). Twenty-seven participants self-identified as men, and three self-identified as women. Information was also collected about the participants’ riding styles. Twenty of the participants indicated that they were skateboarders and used a skateboard (skate) as their primary device, while nine participants noted how they were WCXM riders and used custom-designed wheelchairs to engage with different skate spaces. Notably, one participant (Erik) described himself as a “wheelchair boarder” and his riding style as “wheelchair boarding” (WCB). Erik outlined how he created a device that allowed him to strap and lock his wheelchair to the top of an electric-powered longboard. Using this device, along with electronic controls, he noted how he would engage with and navigate different terrains and skate spaces. On average, participants had 78 been riding for just over 16 years (mean = 16.83). The median was 18 and the mode was 20, with a range of 46—ranging from one to 47 years of riding experience. Of the 30 participants, 11 noted how, at the time of the study, they were sponsored (in some capacity) by a company (skateboard-related or not). For some, this entailed receiving free products, whereas for others, this entailed monetary funds for travel, equipment, and entry into competitions. At the time of the study, six riders had competed at the X Games and/or Dew Tour, and 11 riders had competed in high-level, national, or international WCMX and/or adaptive skateboarding events. Given the research questions underpinning this dissertation work, information was also collected on the participants’ social media use. Below, in Table 2 information is provided about how much time participants spent on social media, their most used social media platform, and the number of followers they had on Instagram at the time of the study. Table 2 Participant Social Media Use Name SM Use (Daily) Most Used SM Instagram Followers Anyelo 2+ Hours Instagram 2199 Brett 2+ Hours TikTok 1305 Coco 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 11400 Colton 1 to 2 Hours TikTok 13800 Dan 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 212000 Darryl 2+ Hours Instagram 8431 David C. 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 1367 David L. 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 4285 Dorian 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 466 Erik 15 Mins to 1 Hour Facebook 1647 Ernie 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 6661 Gonzalo 2+ Hours Instagram 631 Ian 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 725 Italo 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 37500 Jason 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 736 79 Jesse Once a Week Instagram 5919 Jonte 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 1121 Justin 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 73700 Katherine 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 4778 Matt 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 324 Mike 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 3917 Nick 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 14300 Oscar 2+ Hours Instagram 3573 Robert 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 2189 Ronja Once a Week Instagram 1893 Sebastian 2+ Hours Instagram 10200 Timon 1 to 2 Hours Instagram 788 Toni 2+ Hours Instagram 4673 Tracie 15 Mins to 1 Hour Instagram 4525 Vini 2+ Hours Instagram 56100 All participants outlined that they regularly engaged with different social media platforms. These platforms included, TikTok, Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter, YouTube, and Instagram. At the time of the study, all 30 participants had an Instagram account. All but three participants indicated that Instagram was their most used social media platform. In Brett and Colton’s case, TikTok was their most used social media platform, whereas Erik preferred Facebook over other social media platforms. Given the study’s focus on Instagram, information was collected on the number of followers each participant had at the time of the study. On average, the participants had 16371 followers on the platform—with a median of 4101 followers and a range from 324 to 212,000 followers. These numbers highlight the fact that many of these riders had large online followings. Alongside this information, participants were asked to quantify how often they used social media platforms. The participants were given five options in the demographic questionnaire: once a month, once a week, 15 minutes to an hour (daily), one to two hours (daily), or two plus hours (daily). No participants indicated that they used social media platforms once a month; however, 80 two participants did note that they engaged with social media platforms once a week. Of the others involved, 13 participants indicated that they spent 15 minutes to one hour a day on social media, while seven noted that they spent one to two hours daily, and eight noted how they spent two plus hours each day engaging with social media. Collecting this baseline information not only provided me greater insight about the participants’ engagements with social media but allowed me the opportunity to refine questions asked during the interview process based on this information. 3.6 Data Analysis Below, I provide the reader with information about the dataset and outline the method used to analyze and interpret the data. I then provide details about the various phases of data analysis used in this study and outline how different sets of data were analyzed and interpreted. 3.6.1 The Dataset Interviews with participants ranged from 42 minutes to 124 minutes. The average interview time was just over 76 minutes. With the participant’s permission, the interview was audio recorded and transcribed verbatim. Screenshots of the participant’s Instagram posts were taken, numbered, and embedded within the participants’ transcript. In total, 60 Instagram posts were collected and analyzed. Alongside this data, reflexive fieldnotes and data collected through the demographic questionnaire were used at points to further contextualize the data, and to situate myself and the participants within the larger dataset. 3.6.2 Reflexive Thematic Analysis The collected data was analyzed using a reflexive thematic analysis (RTA) (Braun & Clarke, 2022). Thematic analysis (TA), as Braun and Clarke (2022) outline, can be broadly understood as a “method for developing, analysing and interpreting patterns across a qualitative dataset, which involves systematic processes of data coding to develop themes” (p. 4). RTA, 81 however, takes TA to another level and requires a greater degree of reflexivity from the researcher analyzing the dataset (Braun & Clarke, 2019). In their most recent work, Braun and Clarke (2022) outline how a being a reflexive researcher is a “fundamental characteristic of TA” (p. 5) and requires the researcher to critically reflect upon their own role (as a researcher) and their practices and processes within the research project. In other words, RTA calls upon the researcher to draw attention to the ways in which their own paradigmatic position influences how the data is interpreted. As Trainor and Bundon (2021) detail, RTA is not simply about “working through a series of steps” (p. 706) but is an iterative process that requires deep reflection and attentiveness to how one’s positionality and philosophical and theoretical underpinnings influence the ways the data is read and interpreted. Using RTA within this project was of particular importance given my positionality as an able-bodied researcher doing CDS research and because of my engagements and experiences with skateboarding. Accounting for this greater degree of reflexivity throughout data analysis allowed me the opportunity to (critically) draw attention to and tease apart how my actions, subjectivities, embodiments, experiences, and worldviews influenced the ways in which I interpreted the dataset (Braun & Clarke, 2022). Data analysis for this dissertation project truly started as soon as this project commenced. Prior to and throughout the data collection process, I used the same reflexive fieldnote journal to store notes and ideas about what I was hearing, reading, and thinking about as I immersed myself in the data. This process also included outlining key ideas, assumptions, and concepts from CDS, intersectionality, and posthumanism and highlighted several preliminary codes to be attentive to when analyzing the dataset. A code can simply be understood as bits of identified and labelled data that are relevant to the topic matter and/or research questions being explored (Braun et al., 2016). These preliminary codes were in large part guided by my chosen methodology but were also 82 selected based on early reads of the dataset and conversations had with the participants throughout the interview process. In other words, I took an abductive approach to data analysis whereby both inductive and deductive techniques were used to interpret and develop codes and themes in the dataset. By way of this approach, I was able to identify and develop codes and eventually themes based off key ideas and assumptions from my chosen theoretical perspectives while leaving space for additional codes to develop throughout data analysis (Timmermans & Tavory, 2022). Alongside documenting these preliminary codes, I used my reflexive fieldnotes journal as a space to outline how a critical constructionism paradigm was used to guide, interpret, and understand the data. According to Tamminen and Poucher (2020), a critical constructionism paradigm not only attempts to understand the meanings people create and attribute to their own experiences but explores how those experiences are shaped by larger social, political, cultural, and historical forces. This paradigm is not only congruent with my own ontological and epistemological positions but works in unison with CDS, in that they both focus on exploring the intersections of power relations, individual experiences, and the construction of knowledge through discourse and social action (Tamminen & Poucher, 2020). Once all the data was collected, I began to analyze and code the dataset using RTA (Braun & Clarke, 2022). The first two phases of this process consisted of familiarizing myself with the data and coding the larger dataset. Familiarization, for me, involved reading and re-reading the dataset in an analytical manner in efforts to highlight potential ideas, patterns, and concepts related back to the research questions of the study. This process involved analyzing the entire dataset, including the demographic data, my reflexive fieldnotes, and transcripts and Instagram posts produced by the participants. 83 Guided by the preliminary codes outlined in my reflexive fieldnotes journal, I began to code the dataset. Coding, according to Braun and Clarke (2022), involves closely reading the data and tagging passages, images, and in this case, different aspects of the participants’ Instagram posts that have relevance to the research questions. This process consisted of using pre-existing codes (i.e., ableism, disablism, accessibility, community) and developing new codes of interest related back to the research questions underpinning this work (i.e., advocacy, sponsorship, inspirational). This process was iterative in nature and involved merging and removing codes, adding codes, and developing codes within the dataset. In total, 40 different codes were developed. Once the dataset was coded, I began to organize and generate initial candidate themes from the dataset. A theme, as Braun and Clarke (2019) outline, can be understood as “creative and interpretive stories about the data” (p. 594) that is produced at the intersection of the researcher’s theoretical assumptions, analytical resources, positionality, and the data itself. This key analytical phase of data analysis involved clustering codes together around shared meanings, ideas, and concepts to develop stories about the dataset (Braun & Clarke, 2022). This process took significant time and involved careful consideration and reflection on how different codes may combine to form themes that not only answered the research questions of this study but told stories of and about the dataset (Braun & Clarke, 2006). This phase of data analysis also required significant self-reflection and consideration for how my own positionality, experiences, and theoretical perspectives influenced the ways in which I read and interpreted the data. This is likely one of the main reasons why this process took so long for me, as I was not only jotting down reflections alongside the data that I was analyzing, but then taking these reflections and adding them to my reflexive fieldnotes. This process was, indeed, “messy” (Denzin, 1997, p. 224) but allowed me to situate myself within and alongside the data that I was analyzing. 84 The Instagram posts were also organized and analyzed alongside the narrative data (interview transcripts) in efforts to further develop themes within the dataset. Following the work of Toll and Norman (2021), Instagram posts and the various aspects contained in them (visual content, audio, captions, geo-tags, hashtags) were analyzed in relation to the narrative data generated through the interviews. Interpreting this data in a relational manner granted me the opportunity to see the data in different, and more nuanced ways. For instance, the participant’s Instagram posts often revealed different stories or dimensions of stories shared throughout the interview process and vice-versa (Toll & Norman, 2021). Put another way, rather than viewing Instagram posts within the dataset as mere “snapshots frozen in time” (Toll & Norman, 2021, p. 64), I elected to read these sources of data as evocative texts, that were used alongside the participants’ narrative data in order to conjure certain memories, imaginations, and embodied experiences from them.2 Analytical attention was also given to the different facets of information contained within the shared Instagram posts. For instance, attention was drawn to the different types of depictions and messages conveyed (or not conveyed) within the posts, who was and was not represented in them, and various aspects of the post were analyzed, including its visual content, hashtags, captions, alt-text, audio, and geo-tags to name a few. Accounting for this information evidently helped provide additional context and nuance to the narratives shared by the participants. Once the posts were analyzed and coded, they were linked with related candidate themes. Following the development of candidate themes, I then reviewed each theme in detail. This process entailed reviewing the codes, Instagram posts, and interview excepts linked to each candidate theme and deciding whether the coded data meshed in meaningful ways that addressed 2 See Appendix G for details and an example of how Instagram posts and narrative data were coded and analyzed alongside each other. 85 the research questions of the study and told stories about the dataset. This process, like other aspects of RTA, took considerable time and careful consideration about how the analyzed data fit within the overall narrative of the dataset (Braun et al., 2016). Throughout this refinement process, some themes were dropped, while others were combined or broken into separate themes. Once I was done reviewing and refining these candidate themes into high-level themes, I then gave each theme a name and brief description—primarily to jog my memory for later on when writing up the findings. As Braun et al. (2016) note, a theme definition is a brief description of the theme that both captures the essence of the theme and outlines the scope and boundaries of it. For me, this process entailed providing a descriptor for each theme and outlining how the story or stories of the theme connected to the broader dataset and the research questions being explored. While above I highlight a linear, formulaic step-by-step analysis, this analysis was anything but straightforward. In fact, this process was very much recursive and reflexive in nature and involved constant movement (back-and-forth) between the different phases outlined above. To borrow from Braun et al. (2016), this process was both active and iterative and involved deliberate and conscious decision-making. The iterative nature of RTA was particularly evident during the coding and theme development phases where I found myself moving back-and-forth between these different phases while simultaneously, attempting to weave in and account for my own positionality, assumptions, and theoretical underpinnings. For instance, when developing themes and stories about the dataset, I made a concerted effort to think about how my positionality as a white, able-bodied, male researcher and skateboarder influenced my interpretations of the dataset, and the stories I choose (and did not choose) to forefront in this work. This iterative process allowed for deep, critical reflection which, in turn, helped produce nuanced stories and interpretations of the dataset that gleaned insight on the lives and experiences of disabled riders. 86 3.7 Ethical Tensions and Considerations In this section, I highlight some of the ethical decisions made throughout the study and highlight some of the ethical tensions that I encountered when collecting and analyzing the dataset. I begin this section by outlining the topic of participant confidentiality and follow this section with discussion about some of the tensions I encountered throughout the research process as an able-bodied skateboarder doing disability research. 3.7.1 Participant Confidentiality As detailed earlier, prior to all interviews, participants were required to review and sign a consent form to participate in the study. At the bottom of each consent form, the participants were given three options on how they would like to be identified in the study. They had a choice to be identified using a pseudonym (fake name) or could choose to be identified either using their full name or just their first name. As Guenther (2009) detailed in her work on the politics of naming, in some cases, confidentiality and the use of pseudonyms can be an empowering experience that allows individuals to speak candidly without concerns about attribution or retribution. Yet, on the contrary, confidentiality, can also deny and silence the voices of those that want to be heard and can further disempower those of marginalized communities (Guenther, 2009). Recognizing the potential of both options, and considering the population being explored in this work, I opted to give the participants choice in how they wanted to be represented in the study. Evidently, of the 30 participants, not one participant chose to be identified using a pseudonym and elected to either have their full name, or first name used in the study. Alongside this ethical consideration, I also had to think about how to address confidentiality within the Instagram posts shared and discussed by the participants. The process of maintaining participant confidentiality within visual data, as many have detailed, can be complex, 87 and in some cases, difficult to maintain without jeopardizing the quality of the data (Copes et al., 2018). Thus, it was key for me to be as transparent as possible with the participants on how their shared Instagram posts would be used in the study and outputs of the study. This information was detailed in both the consent form (see Appendix C) and further reiterated to the participants verbally during the interview process. Once the participant was done sharing post(s) with me, verbal permission was obtained from the participant to use their shared post(s) as data in the study. At this time, participants were also given the option to have their shared post(s) edited to conceal their identity, location, or other aspects of the post(s) that they did not want to be shared, such as the caption, geo-tag, or hashtag(s) associated with the post(s). While this option was outlined to all the participants, no participants chose to have their post(s) altered or edited. In a few cases, posts shared by the participants featured other individuals not involved in the study. In these cases, the individuals were blurred to anonymize their identities. While comments were not analyzed within this study, the comments contained within the screenshots of the post were left, but all usernames and details were removed. 3.7.2 Insider Status and Positionality My cultural insider status and positionality were central to this study and led to several ethical quandaries throughout the research process. Though it is easy for one to cast themselves as cultural insider and to self-identify as a skateboarder, it was interesting to note how many participants quizzed me on this very cultural status that I claimed to have, as this exchange with Ian illustrates: Nikolaus: The nice thing about Vancouver is because of the better weather, there's actually a pretty big skate scene here. So, you're able to skate year-round here, rather than, you know, in Edmonton— unless you have indoor facilities, you're not skating year-round [there] because you just can't. It's too cold. Ian: Right. Didn’t the Decenzo brothers come out of Vancouver? 88 Nikolaus: Yes. Yes they did. Some other big names that have come out of Vancouver–you can think of like Chris Haslam. He is from Vancouver. [Ian: He came to mind right away]. Yeah! Spencer Hamilton is another skateboarder who currently resides in Vancouver. There are some newer skaters like, Dustin Henry—he is also from Vancouver. Wade DesArmo used to live in Vancouver but was originally from out East. Ian: Rick McCrank? He’s Canadian, isn’t he? Nikolaus: Yup and Vancouver. He's actually originally born in Whistler. But, interestingly enough, Rick lives and still hangs out in Vancouver. And he actually owns one of the more prominent skate shops here in Vancouver called Anti-Social. So, he's still got a pulse on the skateboarding scene here in Vancouver and does a lot for skateboarding in the city. Ian: You know your skateboarding and skateboarding history. How long have you skated for? Nikolaus: I've been skating since I was younger. I think I was probably 10 years old when I started skating. So, I've been skating for about 19 years, I guess! Although this exchange may seem innocuous, conversations like these were crucial and were used to help build trust and rapport between myself and the participants and seemed to help loosen the conversations between myself and the participants. While for the most part my cultural insider status was helpful, there were also points where my status appeared to hinder the types of exchanges I had with participants. For instance, because of my experiences with skateboarding, and interests in the topic of skateboarding, many participants would gloss over certain details or assume that I was aware of certain (sub)cultural information because of my status, as this conversation with Matt highlights: Nikolaus: Are there any ideal colours that would be best for you and for other low vison skateboarders in a skatepark setting? Matt: No, there really isn't because vision loss is a spectrum thing and everyone's experience with vision loss is totally different. So, we've used pink and white to make a transition marker. [Nikolaus: Okay]. Pink meaning transition either up or down and then white meaning flat ground. So, when you see a pink and white line together that's exactly the seam between pink and… I 89 don't know. I don't know what I'm doing… you've seen it too, on our Insta and stuff... so, I don't know why I'm like mansplaining everything that you've seen… This exchange with Matt highlights the moment where he assumed that I had knowledge of a certain video on his Instagram account because of my interests and status within the study. In some instances, I was able to catch these assumptions in the moment and was able to ask for further clarification and detail, while in other instances (such as this exchange) I seemed to miss my chance to probe and ask for further context and detail. Thus, making it difficult, at points, to get in-depth responses and details from the participants on topics related to skateboarding. Relatedly, at times, and particularly throughout data analysis, I felt as though my position as a skateboarder made it difficult for me to maintain a critical distance between my own assumptions and experiences and the lived experiences of others, as this reflexive journal entry highlights: …I feel as though my early reads of the dataset are a bit stilted at the moment and take more of an optimistic take on adaptive skateboarding. I can’t tell if this is what the participants’ thoughts and experiences really are (I think that’s the case) or if my own perceptions of, experiences with, and love for skateboarding is leaking into my interpretations and understandings of the dataset… Over time, and as I reflect in this journal entry below, it was clear that I was starting to feel more comfortable with my interpretations of the dataset and maintaining a critical distance between my own assumptions and experiences, and the experiences of the disabled riders: With regard to data analysis, I cannot help but feel like I am increasingly becoming more comfortable with the dataset. I feel like I am becoming more aware and cognizant of how my own interests and positionality as a skateboarder and particularly, an able-bodied skateboarder shape how I read and interpret the dataset and do not feel as nervous critiquing the sport and its subculture anymore. I think, in part, this critical awaking comes from the fact that I truly love this sport, and want to make it more accessible and welcoming to everyone, but also stems from the fact that I took a break away from the dataset (a month or so) and came back and read it with “fresh eyes,” and new ideas, which, in my view, allowed me to see and interpret the data differently. It’s surprising how taking a bit of time away from the data can be so productive. 90 While not captured in this passage directly, reflexive fieldnotes and journaling allowed me the opportunity to work through and recognize some of my own biases and assumptions, especially during data analysis, as this journal entry highlights: I cannot help but think about how someone else might read and interpret this dataset differently from me. As a straight, white, able-bodied, male skateboarder, I recognize the various privileges I hold in society, and in the skateboarding (sub)culture, and know that because of this position, I may read and interpret the dataset a bit differently from those of different social backgrounds. At points, I am finding it difficult to make sense of these assumptions and biases; however, I guess that’s one of the reasons why I am using reflexive journaling—to capture some of these half-cooked thoughts and ideas and to work through some of my own biases. As this passage details, not only did my cultural insider status influence the ways in which I read the dataset but highlights how my positionality influenced the ways in which I conducted this research, how I interacted with the participants, how the participants interacted with me, and the ways in which I read and interpreted the dataset. There were a few points throughout the study where my own able-bodied biases and assumptions seemed to seep through into my interactions with participants, which in some cases, appeared to shift the dynamic of the interview. Such biases and ignorance were evident early in the study, and is captured in the exchange below, where I assumed the participant’s impairment: Nikolaus: So, I know a little bit about your story, but can you describe to me –you became legally blind, I believe at the age of 13. Is that correct? Dan: I was diagnosed with a hereditary degenerative hereditary disease called retinitis pigmentosa. So, it is a slow deterioration of vision over time. I wasn't legally blind until my mid 20s. This questioning and able-bodied ignorance exhibited by me not only seemed to shift the dynamic of the interview, but was something that truly haunted me for weeks, and as this journal reflection below outlines, led me to research the topics of blindness and vison loss in greater depth and detail to better understand the different classifications of visual impairment: 91 I am still feeling very embarrassed about my conversation with Dan. I know I should have done my research. That’s on me. What makes this even more difficult is knowing that this was the first interview of my doctoral dissertation and definitely does not instill much confidence in me. I suppose the one ‘upside’ to this massive f*** up, is the fact that I learned from this, and will make sure that I am prepared for interviews with other visually impaired skateboarders and participants with different impairments moving forward… My own ignorance led me to believe that I thought I was prepared for the interview and for discussions about disability, but clearly I was not. I guess the only way to move forward from this is to learn from this mistake and make sure it doesn’t happen again… In retrospect, I wish I would have been more prepared for conversations like this; however, I am glad that this particular exchange happened so early on in the study, thus allowing me the opportunity to not only recognize my own able-bodied ignorance, biases, and assumptions, but encouraged me to educate myself on different impairments and to be prepared for interviews with participants with different impairments and life experiences. Finally, my positionality as an able-bodied researcher led me to, at points, question if I should be the one conducting this research in the first place, as this journal entry reflects: I am not going to lie. At the moment, I am a little at odds with this research project and wonder if I (a white, able-bodied, heterosexual, young(ish), male) should be the one doing this research. I mean, it’s a point that I thought about extensively before starting this research project and its clearly something that still looms over me. I know my intentions here are good and I truly want to make the skateboarding (sub)culture more inclusive and welcoming to different communities but feels as though that maybe there are others that could and should be leading this charge and doing this work/research. I don’t know… To an extent, I still feel the same way as I did when I wrote this passage, and do not know if I will ever feel at ease with my positionality as an able-bodied person doing disability research. However, one way that I attempted to approach my own able-bodiedness within this project was by honouring the mantra, “nothing about us, without us” (Charlton, 2000, p. 3) and as I discussed earlier, took a “disability-friendly” (Kitchin, 2000, p. 36) approach within this work. This approach, as Goodley et al. (2019) outlines, foregrounds disabled people as organic intellectuals, 92 and suggests that in order to learn about disability, one must draw on the experiences and expertise of disabled people as “active subjects of intellectual endeavour” (p. 980). In this work, such an approach entailed working with, learning from, and amplifying the voices, experiences, and expertise of physically disabled riders, in efforts to improve their lives and experiences within different digital and material skate spaces. Despite these efforts, time constraints and the scope of the study limited the type of study I was able to conduct. Future research should consider using participatory research designs whereby participants co-produce findings (and recommendations) with the researcher(s) that directly impact those in the community being studied. 93 Chapter 4: (Sub)cultural Spaces 4.1 Introduction This chapter explores disabled riders’ experiences with and engagements within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. Specifically, this chapter addresses two research questions: RQ#1 Why do disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX? and RQ#2 What are disabled riders’ experiences within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture? This chapter begins by highlighting findings related to RQ#1 and is followed by sharing findings related to RQ#2. These results are then woven together with existing literature and put into conversation with key ideas, concepts, and assumptions from my guiding theoretical perspectives, including CDS, posthumanism, and intersectionality. The chapter is then wrapped up with a brief conclusion where I summarize the findings. 4.2 Disabled Peoples’ Participation in Adaptive Skateboarding and WCMX The first section of this chapter explores RQ#1 and the reasons why physically disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Throughout data analysis, four separate themes were developed that address this question. The developed themes include: 1) “Freedom, Creativity, and Accessibility”, 2) “Adrenaline Rush and Ability to Push Yourself”, 3) “Inspired by Disabled Riders”, 4) and “From Mobility Aid to Sporting Pursuit.” Below, I provide context and examples for each theme. 4.2.1 Freedom, Creativity, and Accessibility The reason why many disabled people chose to get involved with adaptive skateboarding and WCMX was simple, it provided them a certain sense of freedom that other sports, physical activity, and leisure practices could not, as adaptive skateboarders, Gonzalo and Mike explained: 94 Gonzalo: Skateboarding gives me happiness. The freedom, the independence. The thing I can do whatever I want. When I am on the board, it feels like everything else loses importance. I don't care about all the things because I'm skating. Mike: I really love that ability to just be able to be creative and express yourself. I don't like being told what to do. So, it's got to be the freedom that attracts me [to skateboarding]. Similar sentiments were made by WCMX riders, where it was commonly noted how the freedom and individuality, and in Ronja’s case, self-determination were reasons why she and so many others were attracted to WCMX: Freedom [and] self-determination. WCMX is a sport where I can be myself. In addition to these comments, other disabled riders, including Jonte, noted how it was the non-competitive nature of WCMX that ultimately attracted him to the sport: It's not like I'm not a team sports guy. I like to do sports with people together, but I'm not really competitive. For me, WCMX is not about winning. It's more about overcoming things, being part of a scene and having a good time rather than actually winning things. I also never really liked the idea of having certain times where you have to train. When I was a kid, I tried to do Judo and that was once a week, Tuesdays at 4pm. Every Tuesday, I was like, “I don't want to go.” I like the sport, but you know, just the fact that I have to go was like, “I don't want to,” but on the other side, I had my BMX, and I would literally ride my BMX from Monday to Sunday, every day, you know, because no one told me I had to, and I just wanted to. It's the same with WCMX— no one really tells you what you have to do. When you ride with people, even with competitions, it's not really about winning. It's more about having a good time. That's just what I really like about these kinds of sports and why I do them. For some disabled riders, like Katherine and Matt, it was both the lack of rules and the ability to be creative and self-expressive that attracted them to WCMX and adaptive skateboarding: Katherine: The main things that I think about when I think about skateboarding and WCMX is like creativity and expression, you know, just like, a different way to express yourself and be an individual, because everybody has a different style of skateboarding. Matt: Skateboarding is cool because it's like a no rules, free-form sport. So, you just do what you feel. If you went and played blind hockey, but you weren't really interested in playing with everyone else, and you wanted to try to do something 95 creative, that wouldn't be allowed. Whereas [with] skateboarding you do what you want. Creativity is king in skateboarding. That really lends itself to people with disabilities, where it doesn't matter how it looks when you skateboard. If you're doing stuff and you're progressing, skateboarding is gonna value that. Conversations with other riders illustrated how it was the accessibility of the sport and the fact that they could ride virtually anywhere that attracted them to skateboarding: Gonzalo: That's one of the cool things about skateboarding—you can skate almost everything in the city. The difference between skateboarding and other sports is I can do it whenever I want. In football, I have to go to a football field. I have to play with a team. Your team is not gonna always be in a good mood or play as a team. But here, [skateboarding] is my own thing, is my own sport. If I don't want to skate, I just come home. If I want to stay late skating, I just do it. I can do it whenever I want and it’s always fun. Jason: The accessibility. I mean, as long as you have a piece of concrete, you can stand there and practice on a chunk of sidewalk a few meters long. Just practice rolling around. I think that's what keeps me going back to skateboarding now is just the accessibility. I used to love swimming, but I only took swimming lessons because I was good at it. But once again, the accessibility was an issue when you know, whether or not the pools open, whether or not there is lane swimming, and it takes time—more time than getting my skate gear on. Matt agreed with these comments, and discussed how financially accessible skateboarding can be, especially when compared to other traditional sporting endeavours, like ice hockey: Nikolaus: What is it about skateboarding? Why do you gravitate towards skateboarding say over hockey? Matt: I think the main ones being accessibility. I think even just like financial accessibility. Hockey is so expensive, and you have to buy gear and then ice rental is a complete nightmare. Skateboarding is just immediately accessibility. So, instead of buying a bunch of hockey gear and worrying about getting to a specific rink, skateboarding can be done anywhere. Like, you can go learn how to skateboard in a parking lot that's next to your house. Skateboarding is everywhere. It's creative and dynamic and it takes into account every piece of urban infrastructure. So, accessibility is huge and getting kids out to skateboard is really easy compared to the stuff like hockey. According to Matt, the financial accessibility of the sport was a reason why he and so many others chose to and were able to participate in adaptive skateboarding. However, conversations with other 96 disabled riders, like Colton, detailed a different narrative, and drew attention to how expensive skateboarding and equipment related to the sport can be: I don't have much money to constantly be getting new parts, and new decks and stuff like that and skateboarding is really fucking pricey. These views were not exclusive to skateboarders but were expressed by WCMX riders as well. WCMX rider, Katherine, for instance, discussed the financial differences between skateboarding and WCMX and noted how the costs of a WCMX chair could be a barrier for disabled people wanting to get involved in or participate in this adaptive sport: WCMX is very expensive. You know, skateboarding, you can pick up a complete for $150, and go and hit the skatepark. But WCMX wheelchairs are like $6,000, minimum. I know people who have spent $9000 to $10, 000 on a WCMX chair, and these chairs aren't covered by insurance, you have to pay out of pocket. The sport has gotten more expensive in the last decade. So, it's like a really big investment to get into the sport. Then there's also the added factor that a lot of disabled people don't have jobs or make money. So, I think there's a lot of people that are really seeking outside support, not because they want fame or recognition, just because they want to keep doing this, and it's very expensive. Since WCMX chairs are often not covered by insurance companies, those wanting to get involved in WCMX either must pay out-of-pocket, or in Jonte’s case, rely on crowdfunding to purchase a WCMX chair just to participate in the sport: I think [my chair] was around $13,000 euros. I did crowdfunding last year in March because yeah, it's just too expensive. I mean, all the stuff in [the] wheelchair business is super, super expensive for no reason. In Germany, we like to talk about the health insurance and how good it is, but when it comes to wheelchairs, it’s shit. They don't give you anything. So yeah, it was out of pocket, and I did a crowdfunding for it. Such comments not only illustrate how expensive skateboarding and WCMX can be but highlights how the costs of equipment to participate in these sports can be a significant barrier for disabled people wanting to participate in these adaptive action sports. Admittedly, the financial costs associated with skateboarding was something that had never occurred to me, and as this reflexive 97 journal entry highlights, is a clear reflection of the privileges that I have within the skateboarding world and society more generally: Several of the participants have now noted how the financial costs associated with skateboarding and WCMX have been barriers to their involvement in the sport. This is truly something I have never thought about until now, in part because I have always thought of skateboarding as relatively inexpensive sport, but then again, one the reasons why I assumed this is clearly linked to my own privilege (and social class) the fact that I have never been in a position where I have had to worry about the costs of equipment and gear in the sport and have never been in a position where I (or my parents) didn’t have the funds to help purchase new skateboarding equipment or gear… 4.2.2 Adrenaline Rush and Ability to Push Yourself According to participants, one of the main reasons why they were attracted to and chose to participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX was because of the adrenaline rush produced from participation in the activity, as visually impaired skateboarder, Brett explained: I don't know, I've always just been a little adrenaline kid. You know, I was always just trying to huck it off anything I could—jumping off roofs and shit and skateboarding was a way to stay edgy and extreme in a way. For Nick, it was both the adrenaline rush and feelings produced through skateboarding that ultimately attracted him back to skateboarding after acquiring his impairment later in life: Nikolaus: I was wondering why you choose to get back into skateboarding then? Nick: It’s that full addiction of working for a trick really, really hard and envisioning it and seeing yourself roll away from it and, and then just letting your body do what you imagined and being free and then before you know it, you're rolling away from that trick. It's that adrenaline that you get from working so hard to accomplish something. That’s what got me back on my board. For other disabled riders, it was the ability to push themselves and overcome fears that attracted them to adaptive skateboarding and WCXM, as Colton and Dorian outlined: Colton: Challenging yourself to do things that you kind of feel like you can't do. It really pushes you mentally too. To push past your limits and try new things. 98 Dorian: I think it would be summed up in owning yourself. I dropped in a couple of times from like a two-and-a-half-meter halfpipe, and, yeah, of course, you can be scared, but you have to push yourself and push your own limits. For WCMX rider, Jonte, it was the ability to push himself and attraction to risk-taking behaviours and the adrenaline rush produced through participation in the sport that encouraged him to pursue WCMX after acquiring a SCI: I had this adrenaline like what it is [like] in BMX, and skating. You know, you can do things because you know your skills but still, it's like a little dangerous. So, you still have like this little voice inside of you that says like, “You shouldn't do that,” like “Don't do that.” But you know, you can do it and to overcome this fear and adrenaline after like actually accomplishing that—that's like the same feeling as in BMX. For me, WCMX brought back a lot of things that I thought that I had lost. Like this whole sense of community and the ability to go to skateparks, the adrenaline rush, and overcoming fears and stuff. As Jonte noted, participation in WCMX not only brought back certain sensations that he experienced as an able-bodied BMX rider but brought back a sense of community and belonging. 4.2.3 Inspired by Disabled Riders Conversations with participants detailed how many of them got involved in adaptive skateboarding after learning about or seeing other physically disabled people engaging with the sport online or in-person. These encounters, as participants explained, were not only empowering but ultimately inspired them and encouraged them to pursue adaptive skateboarding themselves: Vini: I first started skating when I was sixteen years old after I saw another Brazilian para skater named Italo. That was the first time I saw somebody with a disability being able to skateboard. This interaction encouraged me to move forward and learn how to skate. Anyelo: I was in the hospital for three months and had treatments, trying to prevent [injury], but unfortunately, they weren’t able to do anything, so they had to cut my leg. In 2000, I saw Og de Souza –another disabled skateboarder—I was really inspired because of him, so I decided to get into adaptive skateboarding. I said, “If they can do it, I can do it, so why not?” David C: Yeah, it was a little bit of a kick in the nuts. I lost everything trick-wise and things of that nature and even riding the board. It was all brand new 99 again. In the beginning, it was tough. You know, I set it back down and was like, “I don't know.” Then honestly, I went on YouTube one day and I just started Googling like, you know, “Guys with one leg skateboarding” and I came across—he is a very close friend of mine now— Oscar. I watched one of his videos, and Oscar doesn't have hands—he’s an amputee on his left leg I believe, and he's got one thumb. So, when this guy’s hitting the ground, he was just you know, taking these body shots—he doesn't have hands! He can’t put his hands down. So, he's just like, full force hitting that ground. I was like, “Alright, if he’s doing it, I am doing it!” And that kinda like was a jumpstart for me to pick it back up every day and just really, you know, push. Though David C. expressed how he was inspired by an adaptive skateboarder named Oscar, conversations with Oscar detailed how he, too, was inspired by another adaptive skateboarder named, Jon Comer, who has been recognized as the “The Godfather of Adaptive Skateboarding”: Jon [Comer] was my inspiration for adaptive skateboarding. I first saw Jon in a little ad where he was kicking his leg off when I was young, but I didn't get to really meet him until an event called the “Extremity Games.” They had adaptive skateboarding and Jon Comer was one of the judges. I got to meet him and skate with him there. He was he was a great ally and great friend, but he really wasn't a proponent of adaptive skateboarding, because to him, he was just skateboarding. He didn't really consider it like “adaptive skateboarding,” he was just doing it with the cards he was dealt with, and, I respect the shit out of that, because, you know, I think one thing that any disabled person wants is to just be looked at as kind of just normal or whatever and not give pity for whatever situation or condition they may or may not have. Jon just kind of encompassed that where he didn't give a shit. He just didn't care if you liked his skating or not, he did it. He went out and did it. So, he unknowingly, you know, was just inspiring the masses at the time, myself included of what's possible on a skateboard with a prosthetic leg. In a similar vein, several WCMX riders, including Dorian and David L, outlined how they were inspired to get involved in WCMX after seeing videos of Aaron Fotheringham, performing tricks and stunts online in his WCMX chair: Dorian: Yeah, [Aaron] was like the brother I never had or like the example in my early teens that I never had. Since I saw the first clip of him doing the backflip, I was like “You can be cool in a wheelchair, you can have self-respect and you can show the world that you mean something, that you are worthy.” David L: I saw Aaron Fotheringham in a YouTube video doing backflips, one wheel turns and grinds. I was amazed because everybody was like, “Awe, you're in a wheelchair now, your life is over” and even I felt myself like that. Then I 100 saw this guy and was like, “Wow, there’s no limit.” (laugh). From this point, I tried to just see my wheelchair—it was like the wheelchair freed me from the bed, because when people say like, “You’re wheelchair bound.” It's not really true, because I was bed bound, and the wheelchair freed me from it. So, the wheelchair made it possible for me to leave the room to go out into the world. 4.2.4 From Mobility Aid to Sporting Pursuit According to participants, one of the reasons why they got involved in adaptive skateboarding was through necessity and the fact that they were already using skateboard-like devices as mobility aids, and after some time, started to participate in the sport: Italo: I actually started using skateboarding as a means of transportation. I realized that it could be a work tool [and] as time went by, I fell in love with the sport. Ernie: Originally, I got involved in skateboarding through one of my doctors. I was about three years old, and he was the one that gave me my first skateboard. At the time, they gave it to me because I didn't like being in a wheelchair. I’d rather be on my hands, and they didn't like me on my hands because I guess the way I was walking at the time, I was dragging myself or whatever. So, they're like, “Try a skateboard. See if that helps.” So, the doctor actually made the skateboard himself and he gave it to me, and I fell in love with it from there. I started riding skateboards, and then as time went by, I started learning how to do tricks and stuff. Toni: I started to really use it for locomotion. I was like, three years old when I really started to use it frequently. Instead of crawling I decided to use the skateboard. Since then, I was gone! Like the skateboard was always the way that I used to walk. So, I was always on a skateboard. This was the first bond. I knew that it was like my legs. Like the skateboard is my legs. The necessity made me a skateboarder. According to participants, their participation in skateboarding was, in part, spurred by their impairment-type and the fact that those who were missing their lower limbs or those who were born with caudal regression syndrome were already using skateboard-like devices as mobility aids and overtime started to participate in sport and immerse themselves in the sporting (sub)culture. 101 4.3. Disabled Riders’ Experiences within The Skateboarding (Sub)culture The second section of this chapter explores RQ#2 and disabled riders’ experiences with and within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. Throughout data analysis four themes were developed that address and answer this research question. The themes are as follows: 1) “Supportive and Inclusive Community,” 2) Health Benefits,” 3) “Enhance Skills, Confidence, and Independence,” and 4) “Challenge Negative Perceptions of Disability.” These themes are detailed below, and data is woven in to illustrate each theme. 4.3.1 Supportive and Inclusive Community Most participants expressed that their experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture were overwhelmingly positive and noted how they felt supported by other skateboarders and included within the wider skateboarding community: Tracie: I love the skate community. You know, there's nothing better than rolling up to a park and having people go, “Hey, how are you?” You know, “What are we going to do today?” You know, you're just welcome there and it doesn't matter what kind of a morning you've had or what kind of day you had before. They are your friends. It doesn't matter what you look like, who you are, or how good you skate. This is your family. It's the best! Toni: Skating is a great community [where] people stick together. So, it is really easy to make good friends and to find people that will support you [and] that will make you become a good person. Skateboarding made me to be that person. I probably would be a person totally different without skateboarding. Justin: I think just to hit it on the head. In the skateboard community, I've never been said “no” to. I've never been discouraged. I've never been left out. The skateboard community, as a whole, is just the most welcoming, loving community I've ever been a part of. It doesn't matter if you're blind, if you are recovering addict, if you are female, trans, or anything, it matters nothing as long as you're skateboarding and giving the sport the respect it deserves, then the skateboard community will always have your back and just support you. 102 For adaptive skateboarder, Robert, and WCMX rider, Jonte, acceptance within the skateboarding (sub)culture was not necessarily bestowed upon them because of their disabled identities, but was rather something that was earned through their riding performances: Robert: In my [local] skate scene, I was just kind of accepted. You know, credit was given to the tricks done, not for being a disabled skater, you know? Which I liked. (laugh) Jonte: They're pretty hyped about seeing people doing the sport in wheelchairs. Usually, they are just pretty stoked about seeing you and ask questions. Like when you do tricks and stuff the skatepark is cheering. You know how sometimes you’re in the skatepark and you see someone do a trick and you definitely know it's a hard one for them and you bang your skateboard or something? [Nikolaus: Yes]. That's the same thing that happens when you learn a trick [with WCMX] and people are impressed and the whole skatepark is like banging their skateboards or clapping. They're all very open and generally excited to see people do that in skateparks. WCMX rider Katherine went on to further note that, while the wider skateboarding (sub)culture is still very much dominated by white, able-bodied males, the community, in general, has been accepting, welcoming, and supportive of disabled people and disabled riders: Nikolaus: Can you tell me what your general experiences have been like within the wider skateboarding subculture? What have your experiences been like, how have you been interacted with within the community? Katherine: I've not had really any negative experiences in the skateboarding subculture. The skateboarding community, I think, in general, especially being on the adaptive side, welcomes a lot of people. Of course, you know, it is still [a] highly white, highly male, highly abled-bodied sport, but in general, you're able to find a place for yourself within skateboarding. The community aspect of it is really important. From the beginning, people have been super supportive. For Dorian, participation in WCMX provided him and many other disabled riders with a sense of community and a greater sense of belonging, particularly as a wheelchair user: My general experience [with WCMX] is just positive. I have a sense of belonging now. I feel like it is my community. When I tell other people, able-bodied or disabled, I'm proud to say that there’s community for people like us, for people in a wheelchair. That you can do stuff instead of just being sad about life or anything. 103 Similarly, for visually impaired skateboarders, Matt and Justin, participation in skateboarding not only provide them with a sense of community and belonging, but gave them an identity: Matt: It's an identity. I get to be someone. It's hard to picture yourself as a fully blind person, like, “What job am I going to have?” Or like, “How am I going to protect my kids, if she gets bullied at school?” Like, I just have all these anxieties and worries in my brain about who am I going to be as a blind person, you know? But I know following Justin Bishop [and] following Dan Mancina that I'm going to be a skateboarder, no matter how much vision I lose. I get to have an identity, and I get to have a thing that I do, that most of the world can't do. Not many people can do it. Like we're all using skateboarding as an identity in a world that doesn't give an identity to blind people. That doesn't give the forethought to give blind people the time and space to allow them to be fully realized humans and skateboarding does that! I mean, lots of other blind sports do that, but skateboarding does that really well. Justin: It honestly means everything because it evolves depending on what you need it for…I use skateboarding just because like, when I have a bad day, you know, I mess up cooking, or just totally like bleach my clothes, or something, I can step on my skateboard, get a kickflip or heel flip, and know [that] there's people in the world that can't do that, and I can do this. So, I use it to give me some sense of identity and self-worth. Skateboarding is everything. I mean, it's my whole life. These comments from Matt, Justin and others highlight the power and potential of skateboarding and WCMX in providing disabled people with a sense of belonging, community, and identity. Although most disabled riders felt supported and included in the skateboarding community, a few participants did discuss some negative interactions that they had encountered within the skateboarding (sub)culture. One such negative interaction that a few riders encountered were interactions with what Tracie and other referred to as “skatepark bullies”: I have seen people who think that the more runs you take, the better the day you have. When actually it's the quality of the runs that should be more important. For example, there's a few people who will—well, you know what a snake is—but it is more than being a snake—it's just going and doing your thing and skating through people and expecting them to move because you're coming through. Bullies. There are bullies in skateparks. I don't know what these people get out of it. I mean, if they are not skating, some of these people are very nice, but when they start skating, it's all about them, and it's like, “You know, these are public parks, we're all here to do the same thing.” You know, it's like, “You're missing the most important part of this, we are a community, remember?” 104 Visually impaired skateboarder, Brett, detailed similar experiences and noted how these negative interactions often involved the bully cutting him off, or snaking3 other park users: Nine times out of 10. If I'm at the park, people are very accepting and it’s all really good. There are still times where you run into those assholes. I guess for me, I can't tell sometimes when people have headphones in, so that’s my fault. But, other than that, it’s just, people who don’t care about your line of skate. Like, I’ll just be hitting a quarter pipe for like 30 minutes and someone will just zip in-between. I’ll be on the edge of the park and people will just get in my way and cut me off and all that shit and it’s like, “Dude, you can clearly tell I am established here” and just shit like that. Even when I’ve been at the park with friends who weren’t even skating, they were off to the side watching. This guy cuts me off and this girl who was watching me skate just storms up to this guy and just loses her mind on him. She’s like, “Can’t you fucking see he’s blind. We are just in this corner!” Wheelchair boarder, Erik, echoed these comments and noted how he, too, had encountered skatepark bullies while riding and noted that although he was able to “handle” this particular negative encounter, for other disabled riders, such negative interactions could spiral and cause one to avoid certain spaces and skateparks all together: You’re always going to run into someone who’s going to be like, “Yeah, you're in the way.” There was this one guy who was like really pissy with me, you know? Because, again, he's like, “Well, what's that? I belong here. You don't.” So, again, this is not the majority, but this is a thing. It doesn't take that many incidents with people like that, who are literally saying to you, “You don't belong, this is for us.” “You being here takes away from me.” You know, that's tough to deal with. In my case, I'm relatively speaking aggressive when I meet these kinds of people, they don't make me cry, they make me mad, you know, so I can handle it. But you can see a lot of people who, it would only take one or two of those events, and they're like, “Screw it. I'm not going back.” Negative interactions, like the one described by Erik, can not only have an impact on the riders’ engagements with certain spaces, but as Matt outlined, can also affect one’s self-perception: I brought one of my new students into [the skateboard shop] and she got all hooked up with a board and shoes and stuff. Then afterwards, she was like, kind of just sitting there thinking and I was like, “What's going through your brain?” And she told me this. She said, “I didn't know I was allowed to be a skateboarder.” She's sitting there with a brand-new setup, brand new shoes, you 3 Snaking refers to the act of dropping in or cutting someone off while they are in the middle of a run. 105 know, and we're teaching her how to skateboard and she fully belongs and we're like, duct taping the whole skatepark so that she can start to get around. She said, “she didn't know she was allowed to be a skateboarder.” And I was like, “Yep, you're in it now!” A cultural battle I fight with my students is getting them to call themselves “skateboarders.” Like it's ingrained into them, I think that they're like, not allowed to be someone. It's ingrained in me— I have a hard time thinking about my own humanity post-vision loss, like it's just hard to picture. Like I'm losing vision and I'm going to be fully blind in a couple years and I have a hard time even thinking of myself as like an effective human like with a job and stuff. I think the mental barriers that come with disability are like, pretty gnarly, and they get you to the point where you are thinking of yourself as less of a human. Like disabilities are de humanizing. Though a few participants noted negative interactions with skatepark bullies, some participants, like adaptive skateboarder, Mike, noted how most of the negative interactions he encountered were from people outside the skateboarding community, who viewed the act of skateboarding and skateboarders negatively: I've been hassled so many times [when skateboarding]. They're like, “Oh, if you get hurt” and I'm like, “This is my job, just like it's your job whatever you're doing here. Like, this is my job.” “If I get hurt, it's on me coming here.” Like I'm just trying to make a living. You know, all that extra stuff coming into play makes it harder and harder. I'm not going out looking for trouble. I don't like to go out looking for that stuff—people calling the police like it’s hard, man…Every time I speak with somebody who has something negative to say about me, I say, “Yeah, I should just probably go do something useful with my time like be a menace to society or do drugs, right?” I'm, like, “Is me scratching this thing up really that bad?” Like really? Like, yes, I understand some people have to come back and paint this or that, or whatever but weathering will eventually do these types of things. So, all of their excuses are basically irrelevant. Mike’s accounts highlight how negative social perceptions still linger about skateboarding today. Throughout data analysis, it became clear that the gender of the rider may also influence their experiences within skateboarding (sub)culture. Accounts from WCMX rider, Katherine, for instance, noted that although she felt accepted and included by other male riders and able-bodied skateboarders, she felt as though disabled women riders do not get the same level of recognition, opportunities, or support that disabled male riders do: 106 So, when I started riding WCMX, there was maybe one or two other women that were doing it as well. When I started competing, I was the only woman that was competing. For several years, I competed against the guys, by myself, you know, and everybody was super inclusive, and glad to have me there and all the stuff, but I just never really did that well because, I was competing against some really good people, you know, Aaron included, and David and just guys that are, frankly, better than I am. Then, you know, for a couple years, I was really pushing for a women's contest, like a separate women's contest. I kept being told “No, no, no,”— and then we finally got them to agree to do the separate contest. Then at the last minute, I found out, which shouldn't be a surprise just based on historical evidence, that there was gonna be no money for the women, like they could have their own contest, but they weren't gonna get any money. It's really been kind of like that from there on out. Like the women are just kind of really considered like a lower tier because they're not as impressive or they don't go as big or this, that, or the other thing. Just recently, at the Dew Tour, we had a women's contest, and the prize money was the same. That was like the first time we've had equal prize money, which was amazing. But (laugh) the men had two contests. They had the park contest and the street contest, and we only had a street contest, because we don't really have any park skaters. They televised both of the men's contests and didn't televise the women's contest. All of the photographers went to the men's contest, we had like one photographer. So, we still don't get the level of recognition. I think a lot of that is because the people at the top of the organizations that are kind of in charge, and also most of the judges for the contests are men, and so they don't really understand women skateboarding, or WCMX, just in the context of what we do. You know, and it's been a slow, like, shift over time. I'm thrilled with the number of women that are in the sport, and the fact that we have contests and I'm not alone anymore, but there's, you know, a long way to go still. The same thing happened and is still happening in able-bodied skateboarding. So, I think it's just kind of mirroring that as well. WCMX rider, Tracie, raised similar concerns and noted how she has had difficulties getting certain answers and responses from those in positions of power within the skateboarding (sub)culture: Well, first, there are very few of us [women]. Um, I believe that I'm probably the oldest one in the sport. I'm not quite sure, but I've probably got a good idea that I am. It's been a little bit different. Um, I think the men that I have come in contact with have been, I don't know how to put it. They certainly didn't think of me as somebody who could do well with the sport. I don't I don't know how to say that nicely. As a woman, I have a hard time getting questions answered. These accounts from Tracie and Katherine not only illuminate some of the challenges that disabled woman riders encountered but highlights how the intersection of gender and disability could have also shaped their experiences and treatment within the skateboarding (sub)culture. 107 4.3.2 Health Benefits Disabled riders noted how their participation in skateboarding and WCMX can offer different health benefits, including enhanced physical and mental health. Adaptive skateboarder, Jason, for instance, discussed how participating in skateboarding allowed him the opportunity to physically exert himself in ways that enhanced his motor functions and cardiovascular health: It is one of the few activities that really pushes all of my limitations. Skateboarding really helps me exert myself to a maximum level. I mean, you're fighting for your life to stay balanced, and you know it keeps your senses sharp and, it's one of the few activities that I find that can really give me an incredible cardio workout. You're maxing out your muscles and you know there's some anaerobic activity as well there when you're constantly ollieing and pumping in the halfpipe. Skateboarding has always just kind of kept me going and helped me to just really physically exert myself in ways that no other sport can. In addition to physical health benefits, disabled riders noted how participation in skateboarding and WCMX could be used to enhance their mental health and overall wellbeing, as adaptive skateboarders, Colton, and Ian discussed: Colton: It's honestly a lot. I don't even know… [long pause 10 seconds] I mean, it's always been like a great way for me to cope with some negative parts of my life. It's brought me a lot of strength and dedication to other things that I can take outside of skateboarding. I don't know. It's just been a big part of my life. Ian: I have clinical depression. So, I think that's something that probably helps substantially. In-between the sunlight and just being out in it exercising, something that has constant goal setting, and pushing me forward, and then of course, all the brain rushes that you get the whole way. Adaptive skateboarder, Jesse, echoed these comments and voiced just how important movement practices can be for disabled people, and for those who have acquired an impairment: Moving around with a disability is very important for the body and for the mind because a lot of people when they got disabilities, some become suicidal, some people get into drugs and alcohol and it's really rough. It's really rough for people with disabilities and sitting around is boring. Luckily, I just stumbled upon this skating thing, and it’s done a lot for me. For other disabled riders, like Justin, skateboarding was used as “a tool to run away”: 108 Nikolaus: You just described skateboarding as a “tool to run away.” Can you maybe tell me a little bit more about what you mean by that? Justin: So, “a tool to run away” is when you're skateboarding, it's almost like a form of meditation because you have a cane in your hand, you're on a moving piece of wood, your feet have to do something, your brain’s only thinking about balance and getting the trick. So, anything about like, “I'm blind today,” or “I failed this today” or, you know, “Today is not going that well,” it just vanishes, and you literally can't think of anything else, so it's almost like forced meditation. So, I use it a lot just to avoid thinking or just clear my head. Accounts like these from Justin and Jesse highlight how participating in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may also be used to enhance the mental health and wellbeing of disabled people and may be particularly beneficial for those who have acquired their impairment. 4.3.3 Enhance Skills, Confidence, and Independence Conversations with disabled riders highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX can not only enhance one’s self-confidence, but can provide them with a greater sense of independence, as visually impaired skateboarder, Dan, discussed: I lost a lot of my independence and confidence as a person and my ability to travel. [I am] getting some cane training, and, yeah, [I am] getting my confidence back. Skating helps with that. Other riders like Ronja and Jonte, believed that participation in WCMX may provide them with the skills and confidence needed to engage the material world around them: Ronja: WCMX is perfect for everyone. It coaches you for everyday life, so that you can overcome stairs and obstacles. Jonte: WCMX has a real big impact on how you control your wheelchair in an inaccessible world. When you ride WCMX you have lower boundaries, you know? If the elevator is broken, you can go downstairs, or if you have to go up some curb or something, you know how to do that. You have enough control of your wheelchair, and you have knowledge about your skills. You are just more confident to ride a wheelchair in an inaccessible world and that's a really big deal, especially for kids in wheelchairs. Jonte went on to further note how participation in WCMX can also be used to help people overcome the fear of falling and crashing in a wheelchair: 109 I mean, pretty much a skatepark is like, kind of a training area for the everyday, you know? I mean, of course, you don't start grinding down some handrails. But you learn how to get up curbs, how to get up and get down stairs, and you get more creative about like how to get into trains that are inaccessible, and you lose the fear of crashing or falling. I think that’s one of the biggest fears when you're in a wheelchair at least for me, like you don't really know what happens when you fall over. It's the same thing with skateboarding or BMXing. It's part of the sport and every time you crash you have less fear of crashing again, because you know it's not that bad. That's something that you really need when you're in a wheelchair and in an inaccessible world— just try things out, stay creative. See how you can try things and that you actually have enough control over your chair and that you actually have the confidence to try these things. These discussions from Jonte and others illustrate how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX can not only enhance disabled riders self-confidence and independence but could provide them with the skills that could be transferred outside of the sport and used in their everyday interactions and navigations of the material world around them. 4.3.4 Challenge Negative Perceptions of Disability Finally, discussions with participants highlighted how many disabled riders used skateboarding and their participation in the sport, as a tool to challenge negative public perceptions and stereotypes associated with disability, as visually impaired skateboarder, Dan, explained: You know, people thinking that you're not as capable and stuff like that. [I was] noticing a difference in the way that people treated me from being a sighted person going into the blind world. [It] was weird because I still felt like the same person and everything. So [skateboarding] was my way to push back against that. It's a way to push myself and push back against the stigma and show people that I'm capable and at the end of the day. I guess it's just my identity. What I feel most comfortable as and proud of. Similar comments were made by WCMX riders, such as Dorian, who noted how participation in WCMX not only allowed him to show his capabilities, but allowed him a chance to challenge negative ideas and stereotypes associated with wheelchair use and disability: I went to my first WCMX meeting in Utrecht in the Netherlands, and I was like, “You can be cool in a wheelchair, you can have self-respect and you can show the world that you mean something, and that you are worthy.” I was not really experienced in skating, but I knew I wanted to show people some skills or that I 110 don't need help, or I don't have a push bar on my wheelchair… I want to show that you can do things and extreme things on your own as well in the wheelchair. For Darryl, participation in WCMX not only allowed him the opportunity to challenge the stigma attached to wheelchair use and disability more generally, but allowed him the opportunity to show people that being in a wheelchair can also be creative and fun: I think the biggest thing for me is [Aaron’s] got a quote. It's like, “the wheelchair doesn't have to be a medical device, it can be something fun.” I took that, and I held on to it because, I don’t know, everybody's got this stigma that wheelchairs are a negative thing. You know, if I'm going to be in a wheelchair, I'm gonna go jump a five set, no security guard is going to tell me to get out of my wheelchair. (laugh) So it's like, you know, use it to your advantage, have fun with it, cruise the streets, nobody's gonna kick you off… I can get down a set of stairs. It's more fun. (laugh) I enjoy it and it shows people that just because I'm in a chair, doesn't mean I can't go down the stairs. I just do it a different way. 4.4. Discussion This chapter explored the reasons why physically disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX (RQ#1) and explored their experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture (RQ#2). In drawing attention to the first research question, results from the study illustrated that physically disabled people elected to participate in both adaptive skateboarding and WCMX for a variety of reasons. As Donnelly (2008) proclaimed, “from skateboarding’s earliest incarnations, skateboarders have been involved for a variety of different reasons, in a variety of different ways, and with a variety of different understandings or meanings” (p. 2). Such remarks seem to hold true among disabled riders. According to many participants, the reason why they were attracted to skateboarding and WCMX was because of the freedom, creativity, and the non-competitive nature of the sports—especially when compared to traditional, rule-bound, team sports. According to scholar, Emily Chivers Yochim (2010), such points like the lack of organization, rules, routines, coaches, sporting arenas, and set times is appealing to many, and continues to underlie the motives and reasons why so many people gravitate to skateboarding. 111 Such findings also confirm what previous work has illustrated in that, skateboarders, and those within the skateboarding (sub)culture tend to privilege ideas of freedom, creativity, individuality, and self-expression (Beal, 1995, 1999; Beal & Weidman, 2003; O’Connor, 2019; Wheaton & Beal, 2003). Having the freedom to do the sport when and wherever they wanted to was appealing for many and allowed them the space to explore their bodies and capabilities, and at once, build self-confidence and independence as a disabled person (Lopes et al., 2018; Moore et al., 2018). Following similar lines, several participants noted that one of the main reasons why they were attracted to adaptive skateboarding and WCMX was because of the accessibility of the sports and the fact that they could ride virtually anywhere at any time and could participate in the sport on their own accord. This point of accessibility and freedom is notable, as both skateboarding and WCMX do not have to take place within specific sporting arenas and can be performed anywhere; thus, allowing greater access and freedom to disabled participants of these sports. For other disabled riders, it was their attraction to the adrenaline rush and sensations produced from participation in the sports that drew them to adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. While these comments were made by many, such remarks were particularly common among those riders who had acquired their impairment. Of the 21 participants that acquired their impairment, all but one participant (Ronja) noted how they were either involved in BXM or skateboarding prior to acquiring their impairment. The acquirement of impairment can result in a what Bury (1982) refers to as a “biographic disruption,” (p. 169) or a process where one’s life and biography is significantly altered due to a sudden event or incident. Riders who had acquired their impairment noted that though certain aspects of their life had changed following the acquisition of their impairment, their attraction to action sports, and the sensations produced through them was still imminent and desired by many. This desire for thrills, risk-taking behaviours, and the adrenaline 112 rush produced through the sports, ultimately encouraged many disabled people (with previous experiences in action sports) to take up or return to skateboarding and WCMX following the acquirement of their impairment. Such findings build upon the work of Lopes et al. (2018) to further demonstrate how the pleasure derived from participating in adaptive action sports can be both meaningful and can help motivate physically disabled people to pursue and participate in sport and leisure practices following the acquirement of impairment. Conversations with several disabled riders detailed how they got involved in adaptive skateboarding or WCMX after seeing other disabled riders participate in sport either in person or online. Such interactions, according to participants, were both inspiring and empowering and highlight the importance of disability visibility, both in the sense of making disabled people more visible, and in making disabled riders, adaptive skateboarding, and WCMX, more visible (DePauw, 1997). As disability scholars DePauw and Gavron (2005) note, increasing the visibility of disability sport can result “in more opportunities for individuals with disabilities as well as an increasing number of role models for aspiring athletes with disabilities (p. 14). Following this work, we can see how important disability visibility both online and in-person is (and can be), and how increased disability visibility can influence and motivate disabled people to learn about and try out new sporting pursuits like adaptive skateboarding and WCMX (Wadey & Day, 2018). The reason why some participants said they got involved in adaptive skateboarding was due to the fact that they were already using skateboard-like devices as transportation tools and mobility aids, and over time, started to participate in the sport itself. This was particularly common for those without lower limbs or those who were born with caudal regression syndrome, like Toni and who noted how skateboarding provided him and others with mobility and access to different spaces from a young age and, in his words, became his “legs.” Skateboard scholar Iain Borden 113 (2001) made similar remarks and noted how for many, a “skateboard is less a piece of equipment and takes on more the character of a prosthetic device, an extension of the body as a kind of fifth limb, absorbed into the diffused inside the body-terrain encounter” (p. 100). Though Borden’s words were meant to reflect and capture the experiences of an able-bodied rider, the idea that a skateboard can become an “extension of the body” (p. 100) and, at once, a mobility aid that is “absorbed and diffused inside the body” (p. 100) gets at the very ideas that Toni and others from the study expressed. Such framings get at key ideas that underlie the theory of posthumanism, and the notion that technologies are increasingly pervading and influencing the everyday experiences of humans (Nayar, 2018). In this case, skateboards, and skateboard-like devices developed by the riders and healthcare practitioners not only helped provide access and mobility for disabled people, but over time, influenced their corporeal realities, movement practices, and lifestyles. In addition to exploring the reasons why disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX, this chapter investigated disabled riders’ experiences within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture. Disabled riders expressed overwhelmingly positive experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. According to many participants, their participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX provided many with a greater sense of community and an increased sense of belonging. Such findings seem to echo much of what previous research has found in that participation in skateboarding and adaptive sports more generally can not only lead to expanded social networks, friendships, and provide a sense of community (Atencio et al., 2018; Gatt & Trussell, 2022), but can also lead to an increased sense of belonging, especially among those of marginalized communities (Jones, 2011; Labbé et al., 2019; Sorsdahl et al., 2021). Disabled riders also discussed the perceived health benefits they had gained through participation in the sports and noted how both sports could be used to benefit their physical and 114 mental health and overall wellbeing. These findings sit alongside the work of others, who have illustrated how participation in (disability) sport, skateboarding, and action sports more generally, can improve one’s physical health and mental wellbeing (Atencio et al., 2018; Dumas & Laforest, 2009; Sorsdahl et al., 2021). Such findings not only build upon the growing body of literature that has examined disabled peoples’ participation in informal adaptive action sports (Frumberg et al., 2019; Labbé et al., 2019; Lopes et al., 2018; Moore et al., 2018) but demonstrates the potential health benefits that these sports may have on the lives of physically disabled individuals. Discussions with participants highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX can allow disabled people the opportunity to develop and learn new skills and, at once, enhance their self-confidence and independence. These results confirm and build upon previous research to highlight how participation in (adaptive) skateboarding (and WCMX) can offer participants the opportunity to develop new skills and qualities like dedication, discipline, resilience, independence, and self-confidence (Atencio et al., 2018; Wixon, 2009). Many participants reported that the skills and confidence developed through participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX could be transferred to everyday life and navigations of the material world around them. Such statements seemed to be particularly common among WCMX riders, who expressed how they believed that their participation in WCMX not only taught them how to fall in a wheelchair and feel more comfortable in a wheelchair, but according to many, helped them develop the skills and confidence needed to engage with and navigate inaccessible designs like stairs, curbs, and other ableist structures, outside of sport, in the real world. While participant observations of these engagements would provide greater insight into the transferability of these skills, accounts from the participants appeared to reiterate what research has illustrated, in that 115 participation in sport can lead to improved skills, self-confidence, and personal empowerment for disabled people (Aitchison et al., 2022; Huang & Brittain, 2006; Richardson et al., 2017b). In addition to these benefits, disabled riders discussed how they used their participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX as a tool to showcase their skills and capabilities and to challenge negative public perceptions and stereotypes about disability. This appeared to be common among WCMX riders, who noted how they would use their performances in skate spaces to challenge the stigma associated with disability and wheelchair use more generally, and to show that being in a wheelchair can be fun, creative, and more than just a medical device. Situating this work in CDS illuminates how participation in sport, and in this case, informal sport, can allow disabled people the opportunity to challenge negative stereotypes associated with wheelchair use and disability (Aitchison et al., 2022; Brittain, 2004; Richardson et al., 2017b), and at once, showcase what their bodies can do and are capable of (Smith & Bundon, 2018). Although participants expressed overall positive experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture, a few participants did highlight some challenges and negative experiences that they had encountered within it. For instance, a few participants outlined how they had encountered “bullies” when riding in skateparks. Participants noted how these interactions were often negative and entailed the bully either cutting them off (snaking them) or weaving in and out of their lines within the skatepark. According to participants, these negative experiences did not necessarily deter them from further engaging with these skate spaces but did seem to taint their overall experiences within the space. While it is difficult to determine whether such acts were a result of the participants’ disabled identities or not, previous literature has illustrated how snaking is often linked to issues of power and status within a space, where riders are policed based on their skills, riding styles, status, and presented identities (Ma & Munter, 2014; Taylor & Khan, 2011). 116 Conversations with one participant (Erik) detailed how, because of his riding style (wheelchair boarding), he experienced confrontational interactions from another skatepark user. Though Erik outlined how he was able to handle this particular situation—perhaps in part because of his age (56), gender, and years of riding, which may have provided him with an added sense of confidence and authority (Atencio et al., 2009; O’Connor, 2018a)—he cautioned that other disabled riders may not be able to handle such interactions, and as a result, may choose to avoid the space or the sport all together. This point is notable, as disability sport scholar, Ian Brittain (2004) has detailed how negative interactions, attitudes, and perceptions from others, including other sport participants, can influence disabled participants’ participation in sport, leisure, and physical activity. Though Erik was the only participant to outline such negative interactions, adaptive skateboarder, Mike, discussed how he had encountered a few negative interactions from those outside of the skateboarding community. These negative interactions, as Mike detailed, came primarily from citizens concerned about the skateboarder injuring themselves or others, and or damaging public infrastructure and (street) spaces through the acts of skateboarding. Though this finding is not necessarily new to those studying skateboarding and have been concerns that have been addressed for decades by scholars studying skateboarding (see Carr, 2010; Howell, 2001; Németh, 2006), this finding does suggest that such negative interactions between citizens and disabled riders had less to do with the disabled identities of the riders and more to do with the fact that they were riding in and on public and private spaces near concerned citizens. The three women involved in the study all outline how, at some point, they had encountered gender-related barriers and issues within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture. While the women riders acknowledged that increasingly more girls and women are getting involved in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX, girls and women remain significantly underrepresented in both sports, 117 and according to participants, tend to receive less recognition and opportunities than adaptive male riders. These findings appear to mirror what research has illustrated in the able-bodied world of skateboarding, where it has been documented that while girls and women are increasingly entering the sport, they have been historically marginalized, excluded, and given less opportunities than men (Abulhawa, 2020; Atencio et al., 2009; Beal, 1995; Carr, 2017; Kelly et al., 2005). Disabled women riders noted that one of the reasons why they have been given less support, fewer opportunities, and received less recognition than disabled male riders could, in part, be a result of the dominant gender ideologies that exist and circulate within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture (Abulhawa, 2020; Atencio et al., 2009; Beal, 1995; Chivers Yochim, 2010; Kelly et al., 2005). These gender-based ideologies, as WCMX rider Katherine noted, presume that girls and women riders are “not as impressive,” “skilled,” or as “willing to take risks and engage in risk-taking behaviours” as their male counterparts. Such gender-based ideologies can be limiting, and according to Atencio et al. (2008), can not only push girls and women away from and to the outskirts of the skateboarding (sub)culture but can impact the types of opportunities they are given within the sport as well. According to participants, these gender-based ideologies did not necessarily come from other riders and skateboarders, but rather came from those in positions of power within the skateboarding community. Disabled women riders noted how currently, most positions of power within the skateboarding (sub)culture are occupied by men, including owners of skateboard companies, board members of (national) skateboarding organizations, competition judges, and those in charge of media coverage. Due to this gender power imbalance, disabled women riders expressed how it was difficult to get answers and feel heard from those in power. Situating this work in CDS and drawing upon key ideas from the analytical framework of intersectionality illuminates how the social markers of disability and 118 gender seemed to intersect and affect disabled women riders’ experiences and opportunities within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Though adaptive skateboarding and WCMX have a long way to go when it comes to creating space and opportunities for disabled girls and women, women riders were optimistic and noted how increased visibility, funding, and sponsorship opportunities, and the appointment of women into positions of power within the skateboarding (sub)culture could lead to greater representation and participation among disabled girls and women. Finally, findings illustrated how economic constraints and the costs of equipment related to adaptive skateboarding and WCMX can influence disabled peoples’ participation in these adaptive action sports. Adaptive skateboarders outlined how the constant need to purchase new equipment can add up and make the sport expensive and thus difficult to participate in. Economic barriers were that much more pressing for WCMX riders of the study, where participants noted how custom WCMX chairs can cost anywhere between $6000 and $15,000 CAD. These costs, as the participants noted, were often not covered by insurance companies and meant that the rider either had to pay out-of-pocket or had to crowdfund to pay for their chair. These findings go against the ideas of others who have touted skateboarding as being an “inexpensive sport” (Wixon, 2009, p. 31) to participate in, especially when compared to more traditional sports and highlights how the costs of equipment to participate with the sports could be a constraint and barrier for those wanting to get involved in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. In fact, participants were quite candid about the fact that both sports are not cheap, and as a result, could limit who can and cannot participate in them. This point is notable when you consider that, on average, disabled people earn less money and have fewer opportunities to work than able-bodied individuals (Holland, 2021) and, subsequently, may not have the disposable income necessary to participate in sports like adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Weaving these findings together with CDS and the analytical 119 framework of intersectionality illustrates how the intersecting social factors of disability and socioeconomic status can influence the likelihood of disabled people participating in these sports. 4.6 Conclusion This chapter explored the reasons why physically disabled people participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and explored their experiences within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture. Situating this work within CDS and drawing upon key ideas and assumptions from posthumanism and intersectionality, this chapter highlighted how participants chose to participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX over other sports because of the sports’ emphasis on freedom, creativity, individuality, and non-competitive nature and because of the adrenaline rush and the sensations produced through participation in the sport. Other participants noted how they got involved in adaptive skateboarding or WCMX after seeing other disabled riders either in person or online and as a result were motivated to pursue the sports themselves. Some participants noted that the reason they got involved with adaptive skateboarding was due to the fact that they were already using skateboard-like devices as mobility aids, and over time became interested in the sport and began to participate in it as a sporting pursuit. Findings from this study illustrated how disabled riders’ experiences within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture were overwhelmingly positive and highlighted how disabled riders generally felt included and supported within the skateboarding community. Findings highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may provide disabled people with enhance mental and physical health and may provide them with social benefits like enhanced self-confidence, independence, and a greater sense of community and belonging. In addition, participants noted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX allowed them to develop new skills and independence and at once, challenge negative public perceptions about 120 wheelchair use and disability. Though most participants expressed overall positive experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture, conversations with participants also highlighted how negative interactions with other riders and larger social and economic factors, like ones gender and social economic status, could influence disabled riders’ experiences and opportunities within the wider skateboarding (sub)culture. 121 Chapter 5: Digital Spaces 5.1 Introduction The previous chapter explored disabled riders’ experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture and highlighted how a range of social, cultural, and economic factors influenced their participation within the broader skateboarding community. However, as scholars, have noted, the skateboarding community is also “facilitated by skateboarding media and now more immediately by social media” (Snyder, 2017, p. 54). With this in mind, and given the (sub)cultural significance of social media among skateboarders and action sport participants, this chapter explores disabled riders’ experiences with and engagements on the popular social media platform, Instagram. In particular, this chapter aims to explore and answer two separate, yet related research questions: RQ#3: Why and how are disabled riders using Instagram? and RQ#4: How do disabled riders portray themselves on Instagram and what types of messages do these online portrayals convey? Below, I detail results that address these two research questions and provide evidence to support the findings (themes) developed throughout data analysis. These results are then woven together with existing literature on the topic and situated in CDS and put into conversation with key ideas and assumptions from posthumanism and intersectionality. 5.2 Disabled Riders’ Engagements with Instagram The first section of this chapter explores disabled riders’ engagements with Instagram and addresses RQ#3: Why and how are disabled riders using Instagram? In total, five themes were developed that answer this question: 1) “Attractive and Accessible,” 2) “Connect with and Learn from Disabled Riders,” 3) “Generate Disability Visibility and Awareness,” 4) “Promote and Secure Sponsors,” and 5) “Negative Experiences.” Below, I provide detailed examples, and context for each theme. 122 5.2.1 Attractive and Accessible Most disabled riders indicated that Instagram was their most used social media platform. This was the case for 27 of the 30 participants.4 The three participants who stated otherwise indicated that their most used social media platforms were Facebook (Erik) and TikTok (Colton and Brett). One of the reasons that participants were attracted to Instagram was because of its foci on featuring and centering visual content like photos and videos, as Robert explained: I mean, just the general look of it. It's quite an appealing thing. You often find yourself going through Instagram for like 20 minutes at a time and then you’re like, “Oh shit, wait, I had something to do!” It's an interesting app. I enjoy it. It's appealing. It's the app where I feel like people put things up that they want people to see, you know, which means that content is generally pretty good. Jason echoed these comments and discussed his attraction to the visual content of the platform: I mean it's like a magazine that you can open and have every one of your interests all listed as you need them. If you want to find something, there's hashtags to use that you can really narrow in your search. When I first got on Instagram, I found that because it was more visually geared, you know, not a lot of long stories were shared, it was all just photos and a couple of quick comments and that was it. Instagram’s emphases on showcasing visual content rather than textual content allowed disabled rider, Dan, and others, the opportunity to document their lives through posts on the platform: [Instagram] has become a kind of bibliography for people to look at in the future. It’s like a photo album. Like it’s our version of a photo album that our grandparents used to have. Alongside attractions to the visual focus of Instagram, several disabled riders outlined how they were attracted to Instagram because of the ease and accessibility of the platform: Darryl: Instagram, for me—it's simplified as far as it's just photo-based. So, when you see something, your interest is piqued and it's quite easy to breeze through. Coco: I love [Instagram] a lot. I personally like Instagram. For one, because of its ease. It's very accessible. 4 I also recognize the limitations entrenched in this finding and acknowledge that all participants were recruited via Instagram, which, could be one of the reasons why Instagram was so heavily favoured by participants of the study. 123 Though the ease and accessibility of the platform was attractive to many, the built-in accessibility and alternative text feature on the platform made it particularly appealing and accessible for those who were visually impaired, as visually impaired skateboarders Nick and Justin discussed: Nick: I use Instagram because it's one of the easiest things for me to post [on] without being technologically savvy. I'm not good at social media (laugh). So, I just kind of use whatever's the easiest, and Instagram seems to be the easiest platform to post for my disability for sure. Justin: Instagram’s the most accessible, you have options for alt-text, you have larger areas. So, if someone is conscious of the blind screen readers, they can also put a video description in the post as well. There's even an AI system built into Instagram that will guess what a photo is and try to describe it to your voiceover if there's no alt text, or photo description already added to it. Instagram has done a great job with accessibility. It was through discussions with participants that I learned about the alt-text feature on the platform for the first time, and as a result, modified my own practices on the platform: I feel like a fool. Only now (and after discussions with a few participants) am I just learning about the alt-text feature on Instagram. Needless to say, I have since went through all the posts on my project related Instagram account and have added alt-text to them to make the posts and content of the posts accessible to visually impaired users. I am really jazzed such a feature exists, but wish I knew about this earlier. I cannot help but wonder how my own ableist assumptions and practices here could have impacted or worse, even deterred participants from accessing my account and knowing about this study… While not perfect, the built-in accessibility and alt-text feature on Instagram, according to participants, made the platform easier for visually impaired users to navigate, especially when compared to other social media platforms, like TikTok, as Justin elucidated: TikTok is just not very evolved yet. It's not accessible— it’s barely accessible. So, my wife runs my TikTok because it is—for voiceover it's so inconsistent, you know? You have videos blaring in the background while you're trying to listen to your voiceover. It's not fun. In addition to TikTok not being accessible to visually impaired users, several visually impaired skateboarders, including Justin and Colton, discussed how their content on TikTok were subject 124 to unusual policing practices, where their posts were flagged for promoting or encouraging “dangerous acts” and removed from the platform: Justin: My TikTok videos get taken down constantly. I'm on my last strike because they say that I'm “encouraging dangerous acts.” Even when I put disclaimers, like “skateboarding is dangerous.” I still get stuff taken down and I'm still fighting against it. I really wish I could get in contact with someone [from TikTok] because I don't know if it's about skateboarding or if they think blind skateboarding is encouraged dangerous acts? I don't know which one it is. Because if it's blind skateboarding… like something that empowers me is dangerous? I don't know, it's ridiculous… Colton: TikTok and the way that they moderate stuff is very, very messed up. So, pretty much people can just report a video over and over again. As far as I'm aware, TikTok really doesn't put much time into actually properly reviewing it and they just take it down once there's enough reports or whatever. It's horrible. I've had one video flagged for “dangerous acts” and be taken down. There was one small wipe out and then me landing the trick afterwards. The fall wasn't even bad and even in the video, you could see me turn around smiling and laughing. Alongside the flagging of “dangerous acts,” some participants raised concerns about other visually impaired skateboarders having their accounts completely de-activated on TikTok due to concerns over the user “faking” their disability, as Colton drew attention to: Speaking on the false flagging problem. [Name of another visually impaired skateboarder] actually had his whole account taken down at one point [on TikTok], because people thought he was faking blindness. He had his account with like 200,000 followers just completely banned because people were reporting him, like saying he was faking [his disability]. That just adds to how much ableism is in the community and how poorly TikTok actually deals with these things. According to Coco, another visually impaired skateboarder, these ableist ideas and attitudes also seem to manifest within the comment sections on TikTok as well: I was thinking about getting a TikTok because everyone is saying, “Oh, you know, you can grow really fast on there.” But I'll be honest, I'm not happy with the things I see on TikTok right now. I see a lot of people calling people out for faking their disability and I see people just being flat out mean to each other on there. I don't want a TikTok. I am so upset with what I see on TikTok. It just reminds me of the days when kids would steal my cane and be like, “Oh, look at me, I'm blind” and they'd bump into something, and everyone would laugh. It 125 seems like from the attitudes and from the few comments that I've seen on TikTok, that’s the kind of people that would do something like that. Though Instagram is, of course, not absolved of negative user engagements, discussions with the participants seemed to frame Instagram as a more disability-friendly platform than TikTok. 5.2.2 Connect with and Learn from Disabled Riders Conversations with the participants illustrated how many of them used Instagram as a platform to connect with and support other disabled riders, as Justin explained: For me, [on Instagram], I get to keep track of all the other blind skaters. I get to discover and encourage new visually impaired skaters…Anytime a new blind or visually impaired skater pops up on my radar, I instantly message them. We talk, and depending on their progress, I’ll send them some product just to make them feel special. For Colton, Instagram provided a site to find community and to promote himself and his riding: I mean, [Instagram] really helps me get my name out there. It's a really good way to find more like-minded people and meet new people who enjoy the same things that you do or do similar things, like skateboarding. I don't know, it's a really good way to just find a community. This ease to connect with and find other like-minded folx within the adaptive skateboarding and WCMX community, in part, may stem from the different functions embedded on Instagram and posts on the platform like the ability to use specific hashtags, geo-tags, and tags to connect with and share content with users around the world, as Darryl explained: As far as networking globally with other users. Like before, hashtags were a bigger thing, where you could click on “#WCMX” and it would pull up everybody that’s posted, so there may be people that you didn't even know in the world that we're riding and you would be like, “Whoa! They are insane. That's so sick. I didn't know that they're riding!” And would start following them. You can hit them with a message and be like, “Yo, like that was so sick, like how did you do that?” Or, you know, “Congrats on doing that trick!” You know, just have that more family-positive dynamic. Although Darryl alludes to the fact that hashtags may not necessarily be used as much today, there was still a large contingent of disabled riders that outlined how they would regularly use hashtags 126 on the platform and in their posts to search for certain content or users and to promote themselves to particular audiences. In fact, several participants, including Jonte, discussed how he learned about WCMX, through Instagram: When I was in the hospital, I was in rehab for like three months. So, I searched a lot on Instagram for like, wheelchair and SCI stuff. I found [WCMX rider] Darryl on Instagram, and I saw that he [was] doing all these cool things. In his profile, he had written that he's a T-4 and I'm a T-5. So, I knew he's even higher injury level than me and that really gave me motivation. I was like, “Okay, cool. Like he's even more disabled than me (laugh) and he's still doing like these crazy things! So, life is definitely not over, you can do these things too!” A few participants outlined how they used Instagram as a tool to learn about new tricks and techniques from other riders (and their shared content), in efforts to enhance their own riding performances, as adaptive skateboarder, David C. discussed: I pretty much mostly use Instagram for skateboarding. Like watching skate clips. You know, clips are motivation. You watch somebody do a trick and you're like, “Oh, I don't even think about, like moving the board in that direction or doing that with my foot placement.” So, for me, I think it's just like that educational kind of thing. You know, it's like when a coach is watching old football games, you know, they're studying it, they're seeing the moves, the plays. For me, I think it's like the same thing. You know, that's how you learn. You watch, you learn. In fact, discussions with one participant, Nick, illustrated how he plans to use Instagram as a site to share “trick tip” videos that he plans to create for other visually impaired skateboarders: I'm going to be doing a lot of trick tips for the visually impaired. I think [Instagram will] be a good platform to show that like, you don't have to see to explain what you're doing. I just love teaching people. I love taking what I have learned and spent so much time on and honestly make it easier for people to learn. I’ve put a lot of blood sweat and tears into where I've gotten in skateboarding, and I just love teaching. According to participants, Instagram not only operated as a space where they were able to connect with and learn from other disabled riders, but offered a space for them to connect with and learn from others in the disability community, and in Jonte’s case, other wheelchair users: I follow people who WCMX, but I also following a lot of people who post about how to overcome accessibility issues. That's something that I really appreciate 127 Instagram for. I would say the wheelchair scene on Instagram is very open and honest about issues that come with a disability, which I really appreciate. You know, a lot of SCIs have problems with bladders, or like accessible bathrooms, or ableism in general. From my understanding, the wheelchair scene on Instagram is like pretty open about that. So, I use Instagram a lot for like questions. Sometimes there's people who have like 30,000 followers, but as soon as they see that you're also in a wheelchair, like you come to eye-level, and you can ask questions [about] how [they] overcome certain things or what materials they use for whatever. It's just very informative and helpful. According to many disabled riders, including Jonte, Instagram was used as a resource to connect with and learn from others in both the adaptive skateboarding and WCMX world and those from the disability and wheelchair community. 5.2.3 Generate Disability Visibility and Awareness Disabled riders detailed how many of them used Instagram as a space to generate visibility and awareness about adaptive skateboarding, WCMX, and disability. Several participants noted how they used Instagram and their posts specifically to make the sports and disabled people visible: Ronja: I generally use Instagram to make the sport [WCMX] better known and to show that you can achieve everything no matter what. Instagram is easy to use for everyone, and you can reach people all over the world about [WCMX]. Anyelo: The pro [of Instagram] would be that I have the ability to make adaptive skateboarding more visible. Not just in nationally, but all over the world. For some disabled riders, such as Katherine, Instagram doubled as a space where she could promote WCMX and use her posts to combat ableist ideas and assumptions about disability and wheelchair use. Yet, more than this, and captured in the quote below, Katherine details how she used Instagram to showcase WCMX, and at once, encourage disabled girls and women to get involved in the sport: I think it's really just about showing more women that they can do this. That's part of the reason why I'm so visible on social media with [WCMX]. The main reason is to de stigmatize disability and wheelchair use, but the other is, so people know that this sport exists, and we need more women and it's fun! 128 For other disabled riders, like Jesse, Instagram (and posts shared on the platform) enabled him the opportunity to showcase adaptive skateboard, and at once, encourage disabled people to get involved in sport and physical activity more generally: Nikolaus: Can you tell me about the type of content you share on Instagram? Jesse: Most of the stuff I share on Instagram is pretty much my skateboarding. I like to reach the skating community, but also the adaptive community too because it's not just about the skateboarding thing, because sometimes adaptive people might not want to be in skateboarding, but when they see what I'm doing, they get thinking, “Well, maybe I can get on that horse and ride it still.” “Or maybe, “I can ride my bicycle with some sort of aid.” Some people are born with a disability and as they grow, they adapt to different things, but some people like me, you know, you're fine one day, the next day you're not and it's devastating. So, they don't know what their options are until they see something like what I'm doing with the skateboard. As Jesse’s quote highlights, having disability visibility on Instagram can not only motivate and encourage disabled people to pursue sport or physical activity, but can be particularly useful to those who have acquired an impairment and may not know about all the options available to them. For other disabled riders, like Katherine, Instagram provided a space where she could make WCMX visible, learn more about disability, and use her posts and online engagements to educate and inform both herself and other targeted audiences on topics related to disability: Nikolaus: Would you say that you have a particular audience in mind when choosing the images, you put up, the videos you put up, you know, perhaps the stories you share and the captions you write? Katherine: If I have any kind of targeted audience [on Instagram], it's towards non-disabled people, and also people that are disabled and looking for a community but with a very clear eye towards de-stigmatizing disability and educating people. Especially parents of disabled children, I want them to see disabled adults on social media and follow their lead and not the lead of, you know, doctors, or teachers or whoever is from outside of the community. If I were to target anybody with specific posts, that would be people who I think need to understand more about disability, which is everybody, myself included. 129 For other disabled riders, like Matt, Instagram was used as an advocacy tool to not only highlight and promote his adaptive skateboarding program (The Skate Bats) for visually impaired youth, but was used to show their skills and progress as visually impaired skateboarders: I think like [the] pros [of Instagram] is advocacy and to show the world and our followers that these kids are learning really quickly. They're learning how to skateboard at the same rates as fully able-bodied people. So that's like a very powerful advocacy tool. I use it to promote my kids as they learn and to show our followership that these low vision kids are learning how to skate and they're learning how to skate really fast. So, it's an advocacy tool for sure. [Instagram’s] a great communication tool like we chat with The Skatepark Project, and we chat with ASRAB [a disability organization]. It's like another cell phone. It's another text messaging piece of equipment. I think those are my main uses: advocacy, connection, and community building. As these excerpts suggests, for many disabled riders, Instagram acted as a space where they were able to raise awareness and make adaptive skateboarding, WCMX, and disabled people visible while also using the platform as a resource to educate and inform other users (themselves included) on topics related to disability, wheelchair use, and adaptive action sports. 5.2.4 Promote and Secure Sponsors Conversations with participants illuminated how many of them used Instagram and their online performances to help them secure sponsors both inside and outside of skateboarding: Sebastian: Instagram is a tool and is important for me. Instagram is a possibility in my life. It is the only way to get sponsors to see me and to get more sponsors. Vini: I use [Instagram] to show my lifestyle and so I can inspire others. I also use it to show people about para skate and that’s the way I got all the sponsors I have. The pros [of Instagram] are that I got all these sponsors [from it], and everybody gets to know me. In some cases, disabled riders, like Ernie, took more direct approaches when attempting to secure sponsors and discussed how he would use different features on Instagram, including posts and stories to seek out potential sponsors: I'll make a video of me skateboarding [post it] and just ask, you know, “Hey, any sponsors willing to pick me up?” “I’m looking for some new sponsors.” So that's 130 what I'll do, you know, that or I’ll just post it on my Instagram story, you know, just asking, “Hey, any new sponsors willing to pick up?” That’s my way of doing it. I go and I ask and if somebody throws me a message, and we connect, and we do agree on something then yeah, they become my sponsor. In other cases, Instagram operated as a space where the riders could (or in some cases were required to) promote sponsors they had already secured, as Jesse and Dan explained: Jesse: The pro of Instagram is it reaches people. With my sponsors, they like seeing me out there and it gives them some content to share with other people directly. To show their product and to show that, if I can do it, other people can do it. Dan: Yeah, [Instagram] is more of a business tool, I use it to promote things—both myself, sponsors, [and] things from my other sponsors that I like to share. According to participants, Instagram was a great tool to reach large audiences and to promote themselves or certain products via their online performances. 5.2.5 Negative Experiences Though Instagram and engagements with the platform were viewed quite positively by disabled riders, participants of the study also did identify some challenges associated with the platform and detailed some negative experiences that they encountered on it. For instance, several participants detailed how Instagram, at times, could be a “time suck”: David C: It is a distraction. You know? You still got to live with life and set realistic physical goals. You can't just sit around all day. I've definitely been one to get sucked into it at times. That's why I'm trying to limit myself on [Instagram]. But, you know, just like anything, too much of it is bad. Everything in moderation. Darryl: Sometimes [Instagram] can be very time consuming and you could be doing other things that are more important in your everyday [life]. For other disabled riders, like Dan, Instagram required a significant amount of time and work: [Instagram] it is a freaking machine that is always hungry. To really be on it, you got to post every day. I just don't have the energy to do that anymore or time. I guess I have the time, but it's the mental stuff. It's annoying having to do a lot of 131 work. I don't even work that much at it, but it still seems like a lot. Like it's exhausting after a while because it's just never ending. This pressure to continually produce content on the platform was expressed by many riders but appeared to be more common among those disabled riders who had sponsorship deals and were obligated to create a certain amount of posts each week/month to meet certain contract agreements. For some sponsored riders, like Vini, this pressure to produce not only regular content, but engaging content on the platform appeared to have a negative impact upon his mental health: Nikolaus: You mentioned some of the pros of Instagram, are there any cons? Vini: I get a lot of anxiety with [posting to Instagram] because it is a really big responsibility. I have 50 thousand followers. I get nervous about it sometimes. Sometimes when I post something, I get really anxious during the day about whether the post will flop or not. I treat is like a job and sometimes it can mess with my mental health. Nikolaus: Why do you have anxieties about posting? Vini: You try not to get attached with the numbers, like the number of likes, but at the end of the day, it really comes to your mind. When you work and you don’t get a lot of likes, then people think you are doing a bad job and decide to remove me or whatever. Sometimes it makes me so bad. This pressure to produce “likeable” content on the platform seemed to be a common concern expressed by other disabled riders, with some participants noting how they felt a certain pressure to only post positive and uplifting content on their account, as Mike discussed: The problem that I have with [Instagram] is we can never show the bad. It only ever has to be the good. Especially [us] athletes or public figures, they always have to be this image of like, “everything's perfect.” I don't agree with that because nobody's life is that perfect. For Darryl, this pressure to only post positive content on Instagram not only operated as a front, but, but according to him, impacted his wellbeing and mental health struggles at the time: So, for a long time, I felt like I had to, you know, post these pictures, and show people that I'm living my life. But it almost became a lie, it became a mask. It looked like I was doing great, but my mental health was absolutely disastrous, 132 and I was severely depressed, suicidal, [and] just had to put on a show that I looked like I was doing good. Darryl went on to further discuss how the constant display of positive and uplifting content on Instagram can also impact the mental health and self-esteem of those who view the content as well: If you're ever in a funk and a mental depression, and you know, Instagram’s the highlight reel—nobody puts anything really negative on there. It's just like, everything they're doing, or happy about, or like, “I'm doing this!” The cons of that are, it's like, “Well, I'm not doing that. How do I get there?” You kind of get lower on yourself and your self-esteem gets a little bit deteriorated. In addition to these points, several disabled riders, including Erik, discussed how sharing personal content publicly on Instagram can subject the user to negative responses and comments from other users or followers of their account: When you put yourself out there, you're going to get negative responses from people, and they are more likely to go after someone with a disability than they are someone else. You know, so people with disabilities are more likely to be attacked, and in a negative manner. You start reading the comments—there's a lot of negative stuff in there. You know, where people [are] like, “Oh, why does he need to be on a skateboard…he already has wheels?” Ha ha ha. “Oh, look at that. I guess he doesn’t have to worry about breaking his back.” Ha ha ha… You know what I mean? This kind of insulting, contentious stuff, right? Visually impaired skateboarder, Nick, expressed how he, too, encountered negative comments, primarily focused on his disability from other users on Instagram: I will get some funny people on [Instagram] that say some goofy stuff. I don't know if they're trying to be funny, or they're trying to troll or something, but I get goofy questions like, “How do you even know that your board slipped underneath you?” “How do you know what you did?” Just goofy questions. For Justin, another visually impaired skateboarder, comments from other users, particularly during his first year on the platform, often took aim at questioning the legitimacy of his impairment: The beginning was a little rough to explain how a blind guy uses Instagram, [and] how a blind person skateboards. It was so unbelievable at the time that I got a lot of like, “Oh, you are faking it!” or things like that. And I am like, “Fuck, I am blind and now I got to hear I'm faking it, too.” 133 Colton, another visually impaired skateboarder, outlined similar experiences, and noted how these types of behaviours and accusations may be the result of a lack of understanding regarding visual impairments and disability more generally: Occasionally some comments [on Instagram] do get to me, but for the most part, it's just whatever, it is what it is. It's normally people accusing me of faking my blindness because people don't know much about blindness. That lack of understanding kind of makes them think of blindness as like a black and white thing. So, they'll see me like looking down at my board, or like looking at the camera or something like that, and automatically assume I'm faking it when, like, I've been really clear and upfront about like, not being totally blind, and the fact that I still have a bit of functioning vision left. And all that so it's just little things like that. While Colton noted how he would “brush aside” these comments, such ableist comments can be problematic and can (re)produce ableist rhetoric that can impact disabled and non-disabled users views, opinions, and understandings about disability. 5.3 Discussion The first section of this chapter explored and detailed findings related to the research question (RQ#3): Why and how are disabled riders using Instagram? Results from the basic demographic questionnaire highlighted the popularity of Instagram among disabled riders, with 27 of the 30 participants indicating that Instagram was their most used social media platform. According to participants, Instagram’s foci on featuring visual content like video and photographs, rather than textual-based content was one of the primary reasons why so many were attracted to it. Participants expressed how Instagram afforded them the opportunity to share visual content of their sporting pursuits and lifestyle practices with family, friends, and followers of their account, including other disabled riders. This attraction to both producing and consuming visual content is not necessarily new to those within the skateboarding (sub)culture and has taken place for decades now (Chivers Yochim, 2010; MacKay & Dallaire, 2013; Wheaton & Beal, 2003). However, such 134 findings do illustrate how social media platforms, like Instagram, can operate in ways that build upon and supplement more traditional forms of media, like magazines, zines, and video. Social media platforms, according to Thorpe (2017), have not necessarily replaced these old forms of media, but have rather supplemented them and allowed action sport participants, like disabled riders, the opportunity to share visual content, and their performances on the go through smartphones and other devices to transnational audiences. These online performances on the platform were subsequently used by many disabled riders to forge their (sub)cultural affiliations and identities as adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders (Dupont, 2020; Thorpe, 2017). Another reason why many disabled riders were attracted to Instagram was because of the accessibility of the platform. According to participants, Instagram was (and is) relatively user-friendly, accessible, and easy to navigate. Visually impaired skateboarders noted how Instagram was particularly accessible for them and their needs in large part due to the alternative-text feature on the platform—where users and AI generated technologies can describe the appearance or function of visual content shared in a post. These descriptors are then read aloud via screen readers to the user. This built-in accessibility, according to many disabled riders, was one of the main reasons why they chose to engage with and use Instagram over other social media platforms. This feature could be conceived as a “technological affordance” (Bundon, 2016, p. 357). According to Bundon (2016), technological affordance refers to the idea that technologies do not necessarily determine how individuals behave or how societies evolve, but rather how certain technologies make some actions easier and therefore more likely. Within this work, it was apparent that many disabled riders elected to use Instagram, in part because of the ease and built in accessibility of the platform, and as a result, were more inclined to use Instagram over other social media platforms. 135 Several visually impaired skateboarders discussed issues that they or other visually impaired skateboarders had encountered when engaging with the social media platform, TikTok. Participants outlined how their posts and other visually impaired skateboarders’ posts were flagged as promoting “dangerous behaviours” or flagged due to concerns over the user “faking” their disability, and as a result, had their post removed from the platform. In more extreme cases, some participants had their accounts deleted permanently from the platform. According to participants, it was unclear exactly why their posts and accounts were being flagged on the platform—and importantly by whom. Participants wondered if such actions were the result of disablist ideas and the assumption that visually impaired skateboarders could not perform such difficult manoeuvres on a skateboard, or whether it had to do with ableist policies implemented on TikTok, that police, monitor, and vet certain actions, bodies, and accounts. Despite reaching out to TikTok representatives, it is still unclear how certain posts and content on TikTok are monitored. However, given what we know, and situating the participants’ accounts within CDS, it appears that ableist policies and practices and disablist attitudes and assumptions may underline TikTok polices and how users on the platform police the actions and online behaviours of disabled riders (Goodley et al., 2012). Such ableist policies and policing mechanisms have the capacity to shape the everyday experiences of disabled riders and have led many to limit their engagements with TikTok. Disabled riders expressed how they would commonly use Instagram to connect with and support other disabled riders. This support transpired in many different forms, including liking other disabled riders’ posts, commenting on their content, or sending them direct messages through the platform. Some participants highlighted how they utilized built-in features on the platform like hashtags, geo-tags, and tags to connect with those within or interested in the WCMX and adaptive skateboarding communities. This ability to connect with, support, and follow other like-minded 136 individuals has been long documented to be one the most important reasons why so many people, including disabled people, engage with social media platforms, like Instagram (Ellis & Goggin, 2013; Whiting & Williams, 2013). These online engagements on Instagram not only allowed individuals from the adaptive skateboarding and WCMX communities to connect, but was used to connect with, support, and learn from other disabled people and those from the wider disability community. These connections were particularly true for WCXM riders, who noted how they used Instagram as a resource to connect with and learn from other wheelchair users (from around the world). Such findings highlight the potential of Instagram in forging connectivity and illustrates how the platform can operate as a site of connectedness and as a resource for marginalized people and sport participants to connect through, create community, and share knowledge and resources with one another (Ahmad & Thorpe, 2020; Gray, 2019; Wadey & Day, 2018). Conversations with disabled riders outlined how they would regularly study posts shared by other disabled riders in efforts to learn new tricks, techniques, or movement practices to enhance their own riding performances. In fact, a few participants noted that they were first introduced to adaptive skateboarding or WCMX through Instagram and posts shared by others, and as a result, got involved with the sport. While previous work has highlighted how action sport participants can use print media and video depictions of others to enhance their own riding performances and skillsets (Chivers Yochim, 2010; Buckingham, 2009; Wheaton & Beal, 2003), the advent of smartphones and proliferation of social media platforms, like Instagram, has afforded action sport participants the opportunity to learn new tricks, skills, and lifestyles practices in expedited ways (Dupont, 2020; Snyder, 2017; Thorpe, 2017). As posthumanist scholar Jay Bolter (2016) notes, digital platforms, like Instagram, not only function as virtual channels of communication, but are “embedded in the social lives and embodied practices of their users” (p. 6). In other words, mobile 137 devices, and social media platforms on these devices can serve as channels and sensors to users and can bring information from the internet into the real world, and the actions and embodiments of users (Bolter, 2016). In looking at these findings through a posthumanist lens, we can see how some disabled riders’ actions, embodiments, and riding styles may have been shaped and transformed through their engagements with visual content on Instagram. Findings highlighted how many disabled riders used Instagram and their posts on the platform to generate visibility and to make themselves, their sport, and disabled people more visible. Having disability visibility on Instagram, according to participants, was done in efforts to bring greater awareness about adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and to educate users on topics related to disability. These posts featured their impairment through visual representations and contained captions that provided information about their impairment or their experiences as a disabled person/rider. Generating this type of disability visibility on Instagram, while, of course, important to many disabled riders, appeared to be of particular importance to disabled women riders. In fact, all three women discussed the importance of disability visibility on Instagram and noted how they used their posts on the platform to make disabled girls and women visible and to show that being in a wheelchair can be fun. As previous work has detailed, girls and women are still widely under-represented within disability sport, action sports, and sport media, and as a result, are often made invisible within physical and digital sporting spaces (MacKay & Dallaire, 2013; Slocum et al., 2018; Toffoletti, 2018). Yet, with the proliferation of social media platforms, like Instagram, users can now use self-produced media representations as educational tools and as sites to create greater disability visibility and visibility for marginalized sport participants (Toffoletti et al., 2022). Such engagements were common for disabled women riders, where it was 138 noted how they would use Instagram (and their self-produced media depictions) to not only challenge ableist and sexist ideas, but to make WCMX and disabled women visible. Findings from the study illustrated how disabled riders used Instagram as a space to secure and promote sponsorship deals with different companies (skateboard-related and not). Eleven of the 30 participants involved indicated that they were sponsored at the time of the study. These participants noted how they used Instagram and their posts on the platform to showcase their skills and lifestyles as disabled riders, which, for many, resulted in being offered sponsorship deals. In some cases, sponsors required the rider to actively promote the company, organization, or product on their Instagram account, while other riders noted how they would simply receive financial support or products and were not required to actively promote them on Instagram. In both cases, disabled riders outlined the potential of using Instagram and their online performances to procure economic and social capital. Though using social media and online performances for economic gain is not necessarily new among action sport athletes (Dupont, 2020; Nichols, 2021; Snyder, 2017; Thorpe & Dumont, 2019), such engagements have the potential to serve as an important economic opportunity for disabled people. This point is notable when you consider that disabled people typically receive less financial support and resources and are presented with fewer sponsorship opportunities than able-bodied athletes (Siegfried, 2023; Wilson & Khoo, 2013). Yet, findings from this study highlight how many disabled riders were able to use Instagram and their online performances for economic purposes. Such findings not only confirm Ellis and Kent’s (2016) earlier theorizations about social media acting as a potential site for employment among disabled people but builds upon the work of Thorpe (2017) and Nichols (2021) to highlight how marginalized action sport participants, including disabled athletes, can use social media, and their online performances for economic capital. 139 Though Instagram was generally viewed as a positive social media platform that offered tremendous potential to disabled riders, participants also discussed some of the negative aspects of it. Several participants discussed how Instagram was time-consuming and diverted their attention away from other aspects of life and/or more important tasks. Although this has been a critique of social media use more generally (Siddiqui & Singh, 2016), this point appeared to be particularly true for those disabled riders with large followings on the platform or those who had sponsorship obligations. In fact, a few participants noted how the pressure placed on them from sponsors to produce regular content on the platform seemed to impact the mental health of some and caused heightened levels of stress and anxiety. Though there were certain pressures and obligations for some disabled riders to produce content regularly on Instagram, some participants outlined how they felt a certain pressure to produce positive, uplifting, and inspiring content when posting on the platform. Such inspiring content has also been labelled inspiration porn, which, according to Grue (2016), is a common process used in media, where disabled people are framed, portrayed, and subsequently marked as sources of inspiration, often for non-disabled audiences. These media depictions have largely come from those in positions of power within larger media companies, where athletes have traditionally had little to no control over how they are portrayed and discussed (Howe, 2008b). However, with the proliferation of social media outlets, like Instagram, scholars like Haller and Preston (2016) have made the argument that social media users, and particular those of marginalized communities, like disabled people, now have the ability present themselves in manners that they would like to be represented and, as a result, can resist the inspiring framings that are often bestowed upon. Disabled riders noted that while they could represent themselves on Instagram in any way they wanted to, many felt a certain pressure to post positive, uplifting, and inspiring content on 140 Instagram. This pressure, for some, not only seemed to impact their mental health and wellbeing (Sadagheyani & Tatari, 2021), but seemed to influence their self-esteem and self-confidence as disabled riders (Vogel et al., 2014). Participants noted how seeing content positive, uplifting, and inspiring content from other riders caused certain levels of guilt and envy that led some to question their own skills and capabilities as disabled riders—especially when comparing themselves to others (De Vries & Kühne, 2015). These findings illustrate an interesting paradox, as earlier we learned that some participants were inspired by seeing other disabled riders’ online performances and highlight that while online depictions may motivate some, such online performances can also work in demotivating ways that influence the mental health and wellbeing of others. Alongside these concerns, a few participants outlined how they encountered negative comments and interactions from users on the platform. These negative interactions, according to participants, often took place within the comment section of the participant’s posts and focused on their impairment. In some cases, these comments even went as far as to question the legitimacy of the participant’s impairment. Encountering negative, disablist comments like these not only has the potential to reproduce negative stereotypes associated with disability (Sherry, 2019), but can also lead to what scholars call internalized ableism and the belief that they, in fact, inferior based on the influences of stereotypes and discrimination against them (Campbell, 2008). Though most participants who encountered these types of negative comments on Instagram noted how they would either brush these comments aside or simply ignore them, a few participants did outline how they seemed to impact their self-esteem and self-perception as disabled riders. Using CDS to unpack these findings, we can see how disablist comments online may not only affect disabled peoples’ self-esteem and confidence but may impact their engagements digital spaces, like Instagram (Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shildrick, 2012). 141 5.4 Disabled Riders’ Portrayals on Instagram The second section of this chapter explores disabled riders’ online portrayals on Instagram and specifically addresses RQ#4: How do disabled riders portray themselves on Instagram and what types of messages do these portrayals convey? Guided by these questions and drawing on the method of social media post-elicitation, participants were invited to share and discuss posts from their Instagram accounts that they found meaningful or thought represented themselves as disabled riders. Four themes were developed throughout data analysis that attending to this two-pronged question: 1) “Skill and Progress,” 2) “Motivation and Inspiration,” 3) “Community, Mentorship, and Support,” and 4) “Risk-Taking Behaviours.” Each theme is illustrated and contextualized below. 5.4.1 Skill and Progress A common portrayal discussed and shared by participants on Instagram were posts that showcased their skill and progress as disabled riders, as Justin noted: I mainly post what I'm doing on my skateboard. If you want to know how to do something blind or stuff like that, there's so many other content creators out there. I just like showing what's possible on a skateboard without sight and just maxing out my sport. It's mainly just showing how advanced the sport can be. Portrayals of skill and progress were not only discussed during the interviews, but were also apparent in the posts shared and discussed by the riders, like this post from Katherine: It was a huge accomplishment for me to grind this rail, just because of the nature of my disability and like the level of function I have. That was so huge for me just to accomplish that. I ended up getting second to last place at that contest. I can look at that [photo] and not associate that day with the fact that I got last. It was the fact that I did this thing that I didn't think I could do. That's kind of the mindset that I go into it with now—"Just do what's hard for you. Don't try to like impress anybody else. Just impress yourself and that's all you need.” I love to like look back at that and just be like, “Yes, you did that!” Figure 1 WCMX Rider Performing Grind 142 One way that participants would display their skill and progress as disabled riders on Instagram was by sharing posts that featured them preforming tricks or maneuvers that were either difficult for them to do as able-bodied skateboarders (before acquiring their impairment) or were tricks they had re-learned as disabled riders, as Anyelo and David C. shared: According to some participants, such online portrayals were meant to actively challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about what disabled people can(not) do, and were used by disabled riders, like visually impaired skateboarder, Dan, to push back against the stigma attached to disability: I was making videos of me doing stuff as a visually impaired person [on Instagram]. You know that you wouldn’t expect a blind person to do, to push back against the stigma and the way people were treating me and stuff. You know, people thinking that you're not as capable and stuff like that. I was It’s a 360 trick. There was like a sequence of pictures where you can actually see the trick. I was stuck with this trick when I had two legs, and now I conquered that trick with only one of them! It’s like I went beyond all the levels that I could have ever imagined. That was the first kick flip I landed as an amputee. It was just like—ahh, I battled that, dude. I can't even tell you how many times I did that kick turn and tried to do that kickflip while I was at that event. I had been going at it for over an hour. It was just one of those battles that I won. There will always be battles in skateboarding. [The trick] was something that I had been working on stationary for a while and I couldn't really get it and I was just like, “Dude, I have to at least get a kickflip back.” Before I was disabled, I always did late flips. I don't know why. So now, I'm all flick. I can’t pop. I can’t ollie. So, I just flick so fast now. Figure 2 Disabled Skateboarder Doing a 360 Figure 3 Disabled Skateboarder Doing a Kickflip 143 noticing a difference in the way that people treated me from being a sighted person going into the blind world. It was weird because I still felt like the same person and everything. So that was my way to push back against that— just showcasing and showing my progression. It's always just been to have it as a backdrop—blindness is more of a backdrop. It's just me showing people that I'm just a normal person, is the underlying idea and tone of my [Instagram] page and being blind is more of a secondary thing. I tried to make blindness the backdrop and just show people that I just am a normal person living a normal life. Although Dan indicated that blindness was meant to be a backdrop in most, if not all his Instagram posts, for many riders, their impairment was the foci of their post. These posts, such as the one shared by Jason below, often made the participant’s impairment visible and often displayed the participant “in action” performing a difficult trick or manoeuvre: In this post, Jason used hashtags to further highlight his disabled identity and used the hashtags: #amputeesWhoSk8 and #amputeesWhoDoStuff. In the post, Jason also made reference to his age and used the hashtag: #oldmanSk8sesh along with the caption “lowered the bar.” Such portrayal not only highlights his age and disabled identity but depicts his skills and progress as an adaptive skateboarder by way of hashtags and the caption used in his post. Figure 4 Disabled Skateboarder Doing a Tail Stall 144 5.4.2 Motivation and Inspiration Disabled riders commonly discussed how their posts and portrayals on Instagram were meant to motivate and inspire different users, including disabled people, disabled riders, and those within the skateboarding (sub)culture, as Vini elaborated: I have a really diverse profile [on Instagram]. There are a lot of different people who have some type of disability, and a lot of people who like skateboarding, and people who just want inspirational content. I make a lot of different types of content so I can approach each kind of audience that I have, but I use it a lot to show my lifestyle and [to] inspire others, just like I was inspired by someone. Adaptive skateboarder, Ernie made similar remarks and noted how he, too, used Instagram and different aspects of his posts to convey idea and messages of inspiration and motivation to other users, including skateboarders and able-bodied individuals: Usually, I'm trying to reach skaters. I'm trying to get out there to motivate people. That's one of my biggest things. I use a lot of motivational hashtags. I try to make inspirational quotes. My thing is, I want somebody to see [my post] and be like, “Oh, he can do that, I want to try!” You know what I mean? That's what I want. I want somebody that is down to see that and be like, “Dude, why am I down? Look at this guy, you know, he's living his life and here I am, you know, able bodied and I am being sad. Let me go out there and let me try this.” I want them to think positive. That’s all I push. I try to push positive vibes out there. I hope it is all positive vibes and they see that, you know, it’s all love. These types of motivational and inspirational portrayals were also conveyed in many of the posts shared by participants throughout the interview process, including this one from Vini: I was very nervous, and it was a really good moment when I won. It was something I had never imagined I would be able to do. So, this picture means to me that anything is possible. It was a moment where I was crying a lot. (laugh). It was very meaningful for me. Figure 5 Disabled Riders Celebrating X Games Podium 145 While the visual content of this post alone could be interpreted as motivational or inspiring, Vini, like Ernie, also outlined how he used different aspects of his posts to convey inspiring messages to his followers and other Instagram users, such as the caption contained in Figure 5 which reads: Thank you 2k19 for by far being the best year of my life, where everything I ever thought of came true! A year of a lot of learning and maturing, where I learned to get by on my own in other countries, I learned to deal with the pressure of a competition at a level I had never competed in, I also learned that our dreams, even if difficult, are not impossible, I learned the value of resistance in my day to day life, to never give up! It was the year that I closed my first sponsorships, I had surgery on my shoulder due to dislocation, I appeared on TV I took several trips and made Brazilian and foreign friends, in short, thank you to everyone who was part of it, to everyone who contributed to Vakinha, thank you family, Thank you Skateboard! [Translated from Portuguese to English] This caption not only addresses points of perseverance and inspiration, but also touches on ideas related to agency and empowerment. Relatedly, participants, like Nick and Darryl, discussed how they used their posts on to not only inspire and motivate other riders, but to show what is capable: Nick: I really like to show people that they are much more capable than what they allow themselves to believe. I like to put myself out there and show that— it's tough, everything's tough. This world is not easy and if I'm out there doing it, you can be out there doing it! Darryl: [If] you do post something, and you're really proud of it, you get a lot of support [and] people are encouraging. I kind of call it “inspiration porn,” where it's like that can boost your ego…but then it's also a great tool for me to show what's capable. Although audience engagements with posts and on the platform were not explored, discussions with Jason, outlined how one of his posts seemed to inspire and motivate a follower of his account: Yeah, so that photo, I had a friend comment. She said, “Dude, I love your skate pics. I was telling some pals of mine about you the other day super inspiring, and generally rad, regardless of how many arms you have.” So yeah, I was getting some positive feedback from people and [that] just made me realize that these scenes weren't just for me to reflect on the future, and to capture, you know, a small victory, but at that moment it was inspiring to some other people and was entertaining to other people. Figure 6 Disabled Skateboarder Performing Trick in Bowl 146 5.4.3 Community, Mentorship, and Support Another common portrayal exhibited by many disabled riders on Instagram were posts that conveyed ideas of community, mentorship, and support. These posts often featured the rider with individuals or friends from the adaptive skateboarding world, such as this post from Ernie: Several participants, including Oscar, shared posts that featured themselves with individuals that they admired or were inspired by within the adaptive skateboarding community: In other cases, it was clear that the participants themselves were the mentors to others, and in Tracie’s case, a mentor to a group of young girls and women skateboarders: That picture is a picture of my friend[s] [Names Removed]. That was my very first adaptive skate competition that I did. It was like the first time that we all skated together. It was such a fun event. It was the first time I've ever skated in an adaptive competition. I ended up winning first place and it was just such a great moment. I had such a fun time. We did a little skate clinic. We got to meet some kids. I mean, I ended up skating with a little kid at the competition, and got him to love a skateboard, because he's in a wheelchair and I got him to ride a skateboard with me. It's such a great picture because it brings me back to one of the best times that I've had yet in this adaptive skate community. These two gentlemen are [Name Removed] in the blue and Jon Comer. They're, to me, the fathers of adaptive skateboarding. [Name] was at the first Vegas event, so meeting him there was how he and I became friends. But Jon was even [Name’s] inspiration and mine for adaptive skateboarding. Jon was a great ally and great friend, but he really wasn't a proponent of “adaptive skateboarding” because, to him, he was just skateboarding. He didn't really consider it “adaptive skateboarding,” he was just doing it with the cards he was dealt. I respect the shit out of that because I think one thing that any disabled person wants is to be looked at as normal, not given pity for whatever situation or condition they may or may not have. With skateboarding, Jon he didn't care if you liked his skating or not, he went out and did it. So, he unknowingly was just inspiring the masses at the time, myself included, of what's possible on a skateboard with a prosthetic leg. Figure 7 Skateboarders at an Adaptive Skate Competition Figure 8 The Fathers of Adaptive Skateboarding 147 Though many of the Instagram posts shared by participants conveyed ideas of mentorship and comradery within the (adaptive) skateboarding community, a few participants, like Jonte, shared posts that highlighted friends, family, and community members outside of the sport that helped support and encourage them as disabled people and disabled riders at some point in their life: Jonte’s comments and caption used in the post illustrate how many disabled riders used Instagram and their online portrayals to convey ideas related to community, mentorship, and support. I love these girls so much. I'm so proud of them. I get to see them at the very beginning of their skate [careers] and see what they're doing and how they're maturing and how they're helping each other. Like, look at them! They've made such amazing progress, and they don't want to miss this group. So, when you're involved in something like that, it's got to be good. Like, I don't see myself as doing anything out of the ordinary, except for just loving these kids and just giving them support., and it's fun! These girls bring me joy. So, it's just fun to be around these kids. That’s the first one that I posted in a wheelchair. That was just a few days after I left the hospital. I don't remember exactly what I wrote there. But it's something that I've really felt strong about because like I really appreciated my surroundings, like my family, my friends, the BMX scene because I had very few points where I hit rock bottom or was very desperate or sad. My surroundings always gave me the feeling “We can do this.” You know, “You can do this, we believe in you, we still stay with you. We help you whenever.” Like, I always felt confident that I can manage life in a wheelchair. I never really doubted that because like, my friends and family would always stick with me through that. I don't think that's given. So, that's something that I really, really appreciated. That's why I wasn't really so scared about like leaving the hospital and coming to the real-world in a wheelchair, which was like a really big deal for me. Figure 9 Disabled Rider Mentoring Young Girls and Women Figure 10 Support from Family and Friends 148 5.4.4 Risk-Taking Behaviours Finally, discussions with disabled riders outlined how many of them used Instagram and their posts on the platform to display themselves engaging in risk-taking behaviours. Jonte, for instance, discussed how displays of risk-taking behaviours on the platform, particularly as a WCMX rider, made for engaging content that was both praised and celebrated by followers: Drop ins [on] big quarter[pipes] obviously is a cool thing, and every time you do it you have a big adrenaline rush. Obviously, it comes good for like social media, because people are impressed when wheelchairs drop in [on] really big ramps and stuff. Risk-taking behaviours on Instagram were displayed by both men and women adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders. came from both adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders. WCMX rider, Katherine, for instance, shared and discussed a risk-taking post of her performing a difficult manoeuvre on a feature in a skatepark setting: For many disabled riders, displays of risk-taking behaviours were quite overt and often featured visual displays of riders “in action,” or performing seemingly difficult tricks and manoeuvres, such as these posts shared by WCMX rider, Sebastian: So, this photo is actually a screencap of a video. I've done a couple WCMX photoshoots, but in general, I never get good photos of me riding. So, I don't have a lot of action shots of me doing that. This particular gap was something that I really wanted to do, but I'd never gone off a gap at an angle so, I was nervous to do it. It was one of those things that I wanted to try, and my biggest goal at the Dew Tour was to not do something. Like don't be like, “Oh, I'm afraid I'm not going to do it.” So, I ended up going for it and landing it every time and I think that is probably one of the things that got me into third place because nobody else was using that particular feature. So that photo, I like it because I'm literally mid-air, which I don't see very often. It was something that you know, was intimidating to me and I followed through on it. Figure 11 WCMX Rider Hitting Gap at Dew Tour 149 While many disabled riders, like Sebastian, elected to share photographs of themselves engaging in risk-taking behaviours, several participants shared posts that contained video clips of them engaging in risk-taking behaviours, or in Dorian’s case, a “risky” space: Figure 12 WCMX Rider Dropping In Figure 13 WCMX Rider Dropping into Halfpipe 150 According to Dorian, one of the reasons why he chose to post this clip of him falling was in effort to challenge the stereotype that wheelchair users are “fragile” people. Although this post illustrates ideas of risk in a rather overt manner, many disabled riders elected to display risk-taking behaviours and ideas of risk in more subtle ways, such as posting photos of risky or dangerous spaces that they had engaged with or wanted to engage with, as Dorian further shared: While the visual content of the post is meant to illuminate ideas of risk, the caption and hashtags used within the post further conveys ideas of risk and risk-taking behaviours. For instance, the caption used within the post discusses the risk of landing on scooter riders and uses the hashtag #therampwasntscaryatall to showcase his thoughts and engagements with the space at the time. This is a clip where I fall backwards. You see me here up on a small ramp. I was just about to push forwards, but when I touched the rims on my wheelchair, I dopped backwards like an inch, but that inch was the last inch before a one-and-a-half-meter drop. The safety guards on the back [of the ramp] weren’t installed yet and my helmet saved my life (laugh). When I look back at it now, it's funny, but it was kinda serious as well. I chose this [post] because everyone falls, and in WCMX, everyone drops in wrong ways and breaks stuff, and you don’t have to be afraid of getting hurt. Able-bodied people think that people in wheelchairs are fragile people, but we are not. Sometimes we are, but sometimes we are not. Yeah, that [post is from] the first time I went for backflip training. I didn't manage to do the backflip actually that weekend, but I kind of overcame my fear of heights. Not that I'm necessarily afraid of heights, but when you're in a wheelchair going off a ramp, like 20 feet or something—that's scary. BMXers can just “pedal to the metal” and just go forward, but we have to let go of ourselves. You are just going, and you have to trust that you land well and if you don't then just hope that everything’s okay. Figure 14 WCMX Rider Falling Figure 15 Staring Down the Vert Ramp 151 5.5 Discussion While the first section of this chapter explored why and how disabled riders use Instagram; the second section of this chapter explored disabled riders’ portrayals on Instagram, and the messages conveyed in these online depictions. Using the participants’ shared Instagram posts and discussions of them, findings highlighted how many disabled riders used their posts to showcase their skill and progress as disabled riders. These posts often contained visual depictions of them “in action,” performing difficult tricks and maneuvers. According to participants, these types of posts were meant to not only show users just how advanced their sport is (and can be) but were used to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions and negative stereotypes associated with disability. As CDS scholar, Geoffrey Reaume (2014) notes, “changing public attitudes toward disabilities is important” (p. 1248) and remains a key tenet of CDS scholarship (Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Shildrick, 2012). Using CDS to ground these ideas, findings highlight how many disabled riders not only used Instagram and their posts to showcase their skills and progress as disabled riders but used these online self-portrayals to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about disability (French & Le Clair, 2018; Mitchell et al., 2021a; Toffoletti, 2018). Findings also highlighted how disabled riders used their online portrayals of skill and progress on Instagram to showcase and re-affirm their identities as adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders. Disabled riders outlined how they used different facets of their posts, including photographs, videos, captions, and hashtags to (re)produce their sporting identities. Traditionally, magazines and videos played an important role in producing and circulating (sub)cultural knowledges, and understandings of authenticity, which in turn, helped formulate (sub)cultural identities within the skateboarding (sub)culture (Wheaton & Beal, 2003). However, with the emergence of social media sites, like Instagram, participants in different sporting (sub)cultures can 152 now construct their sporting identities in ways that they would like to be viewed and perceived (Dupont, 2020; MacKay & Dallaire, 2013). In other words, posts on Instagram could be conceived as what Chivers Yochim (2010) refers to as documents of identity that work in ways to “define the boundaries of skateboarding culture” (p. 141) and the (sub)cultural identities of individuals in it. Posthumanist scholar, Jay Bolter (2016) makes a convincing case that digital platforms, like Instagram, in today’s world, do not necessarily take refuge from the physical and social world, but are “fully implicated in it” (p. 6) and argues that users of social media platforms should not be viewed as autonomous actors uninfluenced by their online engagements but rather as subjects whose identities and understandings are shaped and defined by their online performances and interactions within these digital spaces. Viewing these findings through a posthumanist lens, we can see how the actions, performances, and portrayals of disabled riders on Instagram may have been used to help situate and define their (sub)cultural identities as disabled riders. Although using posts on Instagram to showcase the disabled riders’ (sub)cultural identity was common, it appeared to be more common among those who had acquired their impairment. Of the 30 participants involved in the study, 21 indicated that they had acquired their impairment. Of those 21, only one participant indicated they were not a skateboarder or BMX rider prior to the acquirement of their impairment. As Frank (1993) notes, the acquisition of impairment can lead to a period of critical reflection and self-change for an individual and can shift their perceptions of self and identity. Accordingly, it appeared that for many disabled riders, Instagram acted as a space where they were able to (re)produce and, in some cases, (re)construct their identities as adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders following the acquisition of their impairment. This was done, in large part, by showcasing their skills and abilities as disabled riders in their posts and by featuring or discussing their impairment in their posts. Put another way, disabled riders who had acquired 153 their impairment appeared to use Instagram and their online performances on the platform to not only make their disability visible (DePauw, 1997), but used their online portrayals to develop, maintain, and perform their (new) identities as disabled riders (Chivers Yochim, 2010; Dupont, 2020; MacKay & Dallaire, 2013; Snyder, 2017). Another common portrayal exhibited by disabled riders on Instagram were representations that were meant to motivate and inspire other disabled people and those within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Using different aspects of their post, participants discussed how they would create posts that were meant to convey ideas of motivation for others to consume, and at once, be inspired by. Work from Haslett and Smith (2019) and Wadey and Day (2018) illustrated similar findings, where they found that disabled athletes used social media to present themselves as inspirational role models and used their own self-produced media portrayals to inspire other disabled people to get involved in sport. Within skateboarding, scholars like Emily Chivers Yochim (2010) have discussed at length how media can be used as a tool to inspire skateboarders. In her study, she found that skateboarders reported that they could identify with the visual performances being displayed within skateboard media which for many, brought about a host of emotions, including excitement, admiration, pleasure, motivation, and inspiration. For disabled riders, in this study, the creation of inspirational posts on Instagram were not only empowering, but, for many, were meant to cultivate certain emotions, like pride, excitement, motivation, and inspiration. This finding came as a bit of a surprise given that previous disability research has critiqued inspirational and motivational framings of disabled athletes, calling these media framings inspiration porn and supercrip deceptions, often catered to able-bodied audiences (Grue, 2016). While these critiques do have merit, previous work has largely focused on mainstream media portrayals of disabled athletes (Silva & Howe, 2012; Smith & Sparkes, 2012), all the while 154 neglecting examinations of self-produced social media sites, like Instagram. This point is notable, as research has demonstrated how marginalized sport participants can use self-produced (social) media depictions to portray themselves and their sporting identities in empowering manners (Mitchell et al., 2021a; Olive, 2015; Thorpe et al., 2017; Toffoletti et al., 2022). For disabled riders, this meant using their self-produced posts and captions within their posts to portray themselves and their sporting performances in inspiring and motivating ways for others. Such findings build upon the work of Hardin and Hardin (2004) to illustrate how disabled athletes may similarly gain empowerment and motivation through inspirational media depictions and highlights the potential of social media sites and self-produced media in fostering portrayals of empowerment for marginalized sport participants (Haslett & Smith, 2019; Wadey & Day, 2018). Though these online depictions were empowering for many, as noted earlier, conversations with participants also revealed how many disabled riders felt a certain pressure to post only positive and uplifting content on Instagram—to a point where their mental health was affected. Weaving these findings together with CDS illustrates an interesting paradox. On one side, it was clear that many disabled riders used their portrayals on Instagram to inspire and motivate disabled people and those in the skateboarding community and used their portrayals to frame disability in affirmative ways (McCormack & Collins, 2012; Smith & Bundon, 2018). Yet, on the other side, several disabled riders discussed how the pressure to post positive content on Instagram, seemed to affect the mental health of some. Such contradictory messages highlight how self-produced portrayals on Instagram appeared to work in both positive and troubling ways for disabled riders. Findings also highlighted how disabled riders used their posts on Instagram to portray images and messages of community, mentorship, and support. These posts often included visual depictions of the disabled rider with other individuals from the adaptive or able-bodied 155 skateboarding (sub)culture, and commonly featured them with friends, mentors, and family members, who, in one way or another, helped support them throughout their lives. These depictions, for many, seemed to convey both a sense of community and sense of belonging within the adaptive skateboarding and WCMX community (Ehrlén & Villi, 2020; Tollan, 2022), and, at once, highlighted how many disabled riders were able to use Instagram and their online portrays to help forge their identities as disabled riders (Dupont, 2020; Smith et al., 2016; Toffoletti, 2018). Finally, data produced through the study highlighted how many disabled riders elected to create and share posts on Instagram that depicted risk-taking behaviours. These risk-taking portrayals were done in both overt and discrete manners. Overt depictions of risk-taking behaviours commonly showcased posts that featured the disabled rider in action, engaging with risky-spaces or performing seemingly difficult maneuvers or tricks, while subtle displays of risk-taking behaviours often featured depictions of risky spaces that they had engaged with or wanted to engage with. Alongside these visual displays, it was common for disabled riders to use different aspects of the posts, including captions and hashtags to further convey ideas of risk. It appeared that, for some, the rationale for displaying risk-taking portrayals on Instagram was to provide other users with “likeable” and engaging content that would be well-received. For others, however, it was clear that such portrayals were purposeful and created in efforts to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about disability. Such findings highlight how self-representations on Instagram can be used by disabled riders to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions (Cocq & Ljuslinder, 2020; Mitchell et al., 2021a; Toffoletti, 2018), and, at once, highlight the emancipatory potential of digital spaces, like Instagram for disabled people and disabled athletes. In drawing upon ideas from CDS, findings from this work highlight how Instagram may come to serve as an important space 156 for disabled people to encourage others to think about the conventions, assumptions, and aspirations of disability within the skateboarding (sub)culture and beyond (Shildrick, 2012). Risk-taking behaviours in action sports, like skateboarding, have often equated with notions of masculinity (Chivers Yochim, 2010; Atencio et a., 2009), where it is assumed that girls and women do not (nor want to) engage in risk-taking endeavours due to a slew of gender-based assumptions (Beal & Wilson, 2003). Disabled women riders from this study, however, appeared to challenge these gender-based beliefs and used Instagram and their online portrayals to display themselves engaging in risk-taking behaviours. Such portrayals were overt and often featured them preforming difficult stunts of maneuvers in their WCMX chairs or engaging with risky or dangerous spaces. Using an intersectional lens to analyze these findings (Moodley & Graham, 2015), it could be argued that these online portrayals of risk-taking behaviours were done in efforts to not only highlight the disabled women’s (sub)cultural identities as disabled WCMX riders, but were used in efforts to challenge the gender and disability-based assumptions about what disabled sportswomen can or cannot do (Dupont, 2020; MacKay & Dallaire, 2013, 2014; Toffoletti, 2018). As scholars have noted, disabled women often face “double discrimination” in sport and society based on their intersecting identities, and as a result, are less likely to participate in sport or receive the same type of recognition and opportunities that disabled men do (Deegan, 2018, p. 15). Drawing on key ideas from CDS, we can see how risk-taking portrayals displayed by disabled women on Instagram have the potential to both challenge these widely held gender beliefs and highlight how being in a wheelchair can be fun, creative, and empowering for disabled women (Deegan, 2018; Dupont, 2020; Hardin, 2007; Mitchell et al., 2021; Smith & Bundon, 2018). 157 5.6 Conclusion This chapter explored two separate, yet related research questions (RQ#3 and RQ#4) related to disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences on the popular social media platform, Instagram. The chapter explored how and why disabled riders use Instagram and examined how they portrayed themselves on it and the types of messages conveyed through these portrayals. Situating the findings in CDS and drawing upon key ideas and assumptions from posthumanism and intersectionality, this chapter highlighted how disabled riders used Instagram as a resource and site to connect with and learn from other disabled riders and those from the wider disability community. Moreover, findings illustrated how disabled riders used Instagram to generate disability visibility and awareness, and at once, challenge ableist ideas and assumptions. Findings also demonstrated how many disabled riders used the platform as a site to promote and secure sponsorship deals. In addition, findings highlighted how many disabled riders used their self-produced media portrayals on Instagram to showcase their skill and progress, and to inspire and motivate disabled people and those in the skateboarding (sub)culture. While many found these posts inspiring, others detailed how they felt pressured to produce positive content to the platform, which, for some, affected their mental health. Other common portrayals included depictions of community, mentorship, and support and portrayals that showed the participant engaging in risk-taking behaviours. These risk-taking portrayals, as I argued, were not only used to highlight the disabled riders’ (sub)cultural identities but were used to challenge both ableist and gender-based assumptions. Findings from this chapter highlight the challenges and potential of Instagram and self-produced media depictions for marginalized sport participants, like disabled people. 158 Chapter 6: Material Spaces 6.1 Introduction Up until now, this dissertation has explored disabled riders’ experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture and their experiences with and engagements on Instagram. This final chapter builds upon this work to explore disabled riders’ engagements with and within different material spaces. This chapter specifically addresses and answers RQ#5: How do disabled riders engage with, navigate, and access material skate spaces? In total, four separate themes were developed that answer this research question. The themes include: 1) “Navigating Material Skate Spaces”, 2) “Accessible Skate Spaces and Designs”, 3) “DIY Practices, Adaptive Tools, and Assistive Technologies”, 4) and “Barriers and Inaccessible Skate Spaces.” Below, each theme is detailed and elaborated upon, and data produced from the participants is woven in to illustrate each theme. Themes are then woven together with existing literature and theorized using key ideas from CDS, posthumanism, and intersectionality. 6.2 Navigating Material Skate Spaces Throughout data analysis, it became clear that disabled riders engaged with an array of different material skate spaces for a variety of different reasons and made most material spaces and features work for them, their skillsets, and riding styles. For instance, WCMX riders, Darryl, and Katherine, described themselves as park riders and noted how they preferred engaging with skateparks because of the diverse range of features available in them: Darryl: I feel like I’d call [my riding] “park” because you get a bit of street, you get a bit of vert…I’d say I am just more park. I do a little bit of everything. Katherine: I would really classify myself more as like a “park skater.” You know, just in general, kind of trying to hit all the elements in the [skate]park. 159 Other disabled riders, like visually impaired skateboarder, Matt, noted how he preferred riding specific features within skateparks: I think my main feature is like a bowl at my local park. I think the number one reason being is that a bowl is a one-user-per-turn skatepark feature. I like the assurance that if I roll into the bowl, it's mine for 15 seconds or whatever and I don't have to worry about other skatepark users cutting across. According to Matt, one of the reasons why he preferred riding bowls in skateparks was because of the fact that they are typically designed in way that only allow one user to engage with the space at a time, thus giving him greater assurance that he would not collide or cut off other park users when engaging with the space. In addition to this assurance, Matt noted how bowls were spatially easier for him to memorize, and thus, made it easier for him to ride and map out his performances: I skate at a newer park. It's a smaller park. It has a normal street section, but then has a really cool four-foot to five-foot bowl with a seven-foot clamshell with pool coping. So, I have that bowl wired spatially and by feel. So, if you come skateboarding with me there, and you see me roll into that bowl, you wouldn't know I was visually impaired, because I just have my runs and my lines and my grinds. You wouldn't know I was visually impaired, but then if we went to [another park] together, I wouldn’t know it like spatially or kinaesthetically and wouldn’t have it memorized. [That’s when] you would see me start to worry about my position [and] where I am. Dan, another visually impaired skateboarder, noted how he used a spot-to-spot approach when engaging with different material skate spaces and features and discussed how his approach to each material space or feature was contingent on a variety of different factors: I mean, you definitely have to map out the area and figure out what's there. My way of looking at the environment is feeling it. It’s really figuring out my starting point of where I start and go towards the obstacle. That always stays the same. So, I start in the same spot. I get my timing down. Sweep the area with my cane to figure out if I land what things can I run into? There are a million things. The sounds around it. How easy it is to get to. Is it a high traffic area? How tall is it? How short is it? Is there a run up? Are there a lot of like obstacles in the environment that are in the way? How are the cracks set up? All those things. It's very spot-to-spot. Each spot I go to I have to figure out how I can skate it or use the environment to skate it. 160 Creativity, adaptability, and the challenge of figuring out and interpreting how to engage with and ride different material skate spaces was one reason why adaptive skateboarders and WCXM riders elected to ride in the streets and at street spots, as WCMX rider, David L. outlined: Last month I focused more on street skating. It's just fun to challenge yourself in different means. [It’s] not quite learning a new trick, but adapting the spots to what you can do, because there's no ollie yet with the wheelchair. It just needs a lot of creativity to make a spot work for you. I never had the idea of even trying [street riding] and now it is fascinating to me that there are a lot of possibilities on the streets [to WCMX], but it takes a lot of creativity and also determination to go for it because it's just so different. It's not made for skating [and] even less made for wheelchair skating, but yeah, it is just nice and cool. This creativity and passion for engaging with unique and challenging skate spaces and features led some disabled riders, like Ernie, to note how they would ride and partake in the construction and development of DIY skate spots in their local communities: Nikolaus: Can you tell me a little bit more about the DIY skatepark that you were working on and skating? Ernie: [This DIY space] was on a piece of flat concrete that [other skateboarders] had found and had built little things here and there. Once a couple people saw what was there—and they were like DIYers—they came down and started building. We were there and were like, “We are here skating, let’s just help out!” So, we started helping, you know, packing in dirt, doing whatever we could to try to help out. So, it turned into almost like a little project, it became a thing. Everybody would show up there and help out and, you know, just skate it out while we let some stuff dry out. So, it turned out to be badass. It was fun! For others, like Robert, engagements with DIY skate spaces were not necessarily a choice, but rather a result of the COVID-19 pandemic and the inability to access public infrastructure due to government health restrictions and the closure of public spaces during the peak of the pandemic: It's not anything that I would usually skate, but it's got like a quarter here and then some DIY banks, and a little nipple thing. I basically just got into skating it in lockdown last year, because of the whole pandemic thing— our local park wasn’t open—so I just kind of fell in love with this place. It's been a running project in that neighborhood for 20 years now. I've seen photos of it [from] 10 years ago, and it's completely different, it’s just evolving over time. I saw a video of someone at that park the other day and I saw that they added something new, and I was like, “Ah cool, another thing!” You know, adding to the living aspect. 161 Several participants, including Gonzalo, noted how it was less about the space, and more about the “hunt” for features and skate spaces to ride in communities that he found meaningful: When I go out with my friends to skate, we start in the highest place in the city and then we go down. Trying to look for new spots and passing to the spots we know. Then we all gather in the final spot. It's all-day fun. It's all-day skating! The fun of it is obviously, I am with my friends, but there's always something new to skate. There's always something new to try. If we come back to a spot, we skated before, it’s like, “Let me try this thing we haven't tried.” According to Gonzalo, and others, the process of searching for new skate spaces and features in communities, and the movement between different skate spaces with other riders was just as important as the process of riding the features themselves. 6.3 Accessible Skate Spaces and Designs Although most disabled riders outlined how they would make most material spaces and features work for them, their skillsets, and riding styles, for others, one of the reasons they would ride certain material skate spaces (over others) was because of accessibility of the space or features in it. For instance, visually impaired skateboarders commonly noted how having longer ledges and rails and wider (less-confined) spaces, like staircases and manual pads, were much more approachable and thus, accessible for them and their riding styles, as Dan detailed: If it's [a] ledge, the longer the better. If it's a gap, like stairs, the wider the better. Other visually impaired skateboarders, like Nick, discussed the advantages of riding (and grinding) features that had tactile notches built into them and noted how this small modification could make certain features more accessible to different users, including visually impaired skateboarders: Nikolaus: Can you maybe tell me about what your dream skate space would kind of look like and what some of the obstacles might be—whether it be adaptive obstacles, or, you know, modify different spaces? Nick: Manual pads would be a bit wider with grit at the beginning and end of like a manual pad or something. So, say that you did a manual, and you were coming to the end of the ledge, you would feel like a gritty [feeling] and then 162 you would know like, “Okay, here's the end,” and then you'd be able to pop off. Or a handrail that you could roll up to and feel comfortable that you're not going to fall off the end of. Just a lot of little things that could definitely help. The incorporation of tactile notches to features, like rails and ledges, could inform visually impaired skateboarders that they are approaching the end of a feature, and as Matt noted, could also be kinaesthetically pleasing to able-bodied skateboarders and other park users: I don't know if you've ever grinded notch coping? [Nikolaus: No, I haven’t]. It’s just little cuts—little table saw cuts— but when you grind across it, it gives you like a little bit of a pool coping vibe. So, it's one of those design features that's like aesthetic, but it could be so functional. Could you imagine if you were blind, and you're doing a frontside five-0 on a vert ramp, and you were grinding across a smooth coping, but as soon as you started feeling those bumps, you knew that you're coming to the edge of the ramp? Along with these adaptive designs, several visually impaired skateboarders discussed the importance of having high-colour contrast within skateparks to indicate different spatial transitions and features within the environment for low vision skateboarders, as Matt discussed: With my vision loss, I cannot deal with [skate]parks that don't have any colour. Southwood [skatepark] has some colour, the transitions are a salmon pink, and the flat bottoms are just grey. That's not over the whole park, but for sure on the bowl. The coping has got a nice big, thick, black panel on the back of it. So, it's a nice big, thick line. So, it's semi-unintentionally adaptive (laugh). I think the best bet is just high contrast and as light as you can get with concrete colour for flat bottom and as dark as you can get for like ramp colour. Then maybe popping in a multicoloured guideline and the multicoloured transition markers on top of the high-contrast mark. I think that's the sweet spot for a lot of visually impaired people and even some fully sighted people who just have bad eyesight (laugh) Similar remarks were made by other visually impaired skateboarders, including Brett, who noted that adding colour contrast to skateparks would not be that difficult to implement: It wouldn't be that hard to do. You got to just change the transition colours and make sure everything's got good contrast; you know? WCMX riders also discussed different adaptive measures and designs that they had either engaged with or would like to see implemented in skateparks. For instance, Katherine discussed the importance of having access in and out of, and to different levels in a skatepark: 163 There are two bowls that, just by the way they're set up, you can push out of them yourself. There's like a pathway to get out and there's still like pockets and transition you can hit. When we talk about wheelchair accessibility, a huge part of it is like obstacles that you can ride, but another huge part of it is being able to be independent in the park. So, I think I, and a lot of other wheelchair riders like [this space] because we don't have to rely on somebody else to help us out. For Dorian, having accessible pathways in and out of different features and access to different levels in a skatepark, would not only make the space more accessible to him and other WCXM riders, but could allow for greater independence within these spaces, as he would not have to rely on the help of others to get on-top-of, or in-and-out of different features: When someone in a wheelchair drops in, one guy has to go down into the bowl and push them [out] and there is another guy at the top, who grabs his foot plates and grabs them out. If we can do that kind of stuff ourselves, that would be great because we are then less dependent on help. That’s what it is all about, being less dependent and just showing that you can do it yourself. According to WCMX rider, Darryl, having pathways in and out of different spaces in a skatepark could enhance the accessibility of the space, and serve many practical purposes as well: Our park here, we have two bowls, and one of them we kept true to skating, it is like a clover bowl…but we do have another separate bowl. It's got a spine and clamshell, but we have a channel ramp all the way out of it. It could be beneficial in many ways. So, you know, little kids that are too scared to go into the bowl have a way to get in. Say if there's an animal that fell into the bowl, now they have an easy way out and there's not an animal trapped in there. If somebody gets injured in the bowl, medical teams have a safe way to get to them and pull them out instead of trying to hook them up beside a quarter pipe, and potentially injuring you more. So, there's so many benefits to having accessibility. In addition to creating accessible pathways within skateparks, WCMX riders, like Jonte, discussed the potential of creating accessible entry points for riders to engage with certain features like rails and ledges through adapted designs and moveable ramps: I really like grinding! I think it's a really cool part of WCMX, like grinding with wheelchairs just generally is a pretty cool thing, but, in skateparks you can't get on the rails because you can't do a bunny hop or like an ollie with a wheelchair and they're mostly round. So, you need to have a flat rail, but you would need either a kicker that you can move in the skatepark, or you need somehow like a 164 rainbow rail that you can like come on to from the ground. So, I would really like to have skateparks where you can either move the rails or have like kickers that you can move to like actually like make it a little more accessible for us. According to disabled riders, like Matt, the implementation of even a few accessible features or pathways in skateparks could have the potential to foster an inclusive and welcoming environment for different riders, and at once, give them confidence to participate in the sport: We’ve had conversations about like two or three obstacles in the park being adaptive. We just need kids to feel welcome at a skatepark and feel included. Then it's up to their courage and creativity, which they do have. If you lose your vision, you have nothing but courage and creativity, just living your own life. So, maybe even just one obstacle to get kids in the park, to make them feel like they belong there and to feel like they can call themselves skateboarders. Then they can start just figuring [it out]. Even in a fully non-adaptive park where it's not adaptive at all—if those kids feel welcome there and they have their one obstacle, there wouldn't be anything stopping them from branching out trying new stuff, getting comfortable with the area like spatially, kinaesthetically, and then figuring something out with zero adaptation. WCMX rider, Katherine, made similar remarks, and noted how creating welcoming spaces for different park users, including disabled riders, should be a priority and could be fostered through the implementation of accessible designs, pathways, and features within skateparks: Something that we've been working towards for a long time, and I think a lot of us still are, is making sure these spaces are like accessible to adaptive skateboarders, not just making sure they can get into them, and they're welcome there, but also, so they can ride there and have a good time. It's been kind of a slow growth of getting these spaces to be more accessible for wheelchairs, but my ultimate dream would be to pull up to a skatepark that I've never been, in an area that I don't know, and see a wheelchair skater, an amputee, a blind skater, whatever, just somebody else that was out there riding. That's when I would kind of know that the sport will have made it. Accordingly, many participants discussed both the role and responsibility that skatepark designers and construction companies should and could have in creating accessible designs for different park users. In a few cases, participants, like Katherine, acknowledged that, some skatepark design and construction companies are being proactive and are considering different park users when revamping or designing new skateparks: 165 Just in the last year there's been a real focus on when you're building new [skate]parks, to build features into them that are accessible for wheelchairs because there's a lot of rails that we're not going to be able to get on unless it's built into the ground or, you know, you wouldn't have a quarter over here, but there's nowhere to hit it from, and I think designers are actually actively, in certain pockets, starting to think about wheelchairs using their parks, which is awesome. [For instance], skatepark designers took two or three of their rails that were just regular rails and added extensions onto them so now we can ride up onto them. So, they actually went and made their skatepark more accessible because we use it so often. Though accounting for different park users and their specific needs may be one way to create more welcoming skateparks, other riders, like David L., discussed the importance of and need to include disabled riders, and disabled people throughout the entire planning, design, and development of new skateparks: I think we should all work on giving opportunities or possibilities to people with disabilities. So, if it's through skate events, or programs, or skatepark design, I think everybody can make the change at their local spot at their local scene. So, I hope that we can somehow get to the point that everybody there says, “But what about people with a disability?” “Why are stairs here?” It's not only about the people who want to skate. It has to be accessible because there are parents in wheelchairs, there are siblings in wheelchairs, and of course, maybe your grandma wants to watch the skate competition. So that's something that’s not in the minds of skatepark planners. Including the voices and opinions of various users during the planning and design process of any space (skatepark or not), of course, makes sense and should be a priority for any company planning, designing, and developing new material structures. However, even in cases where disabled riders have been included in the design and planning process of skateparks, they have been excluded and have had to fight for their ideas and needs to be accounted for and implemented within the design of the space, as Darryl explained: I was a part of designing and helping build our skatepark here. I was on the board as an accessibility consultant to try to make [the skatepark] more inclusive so that wheelchair users could use it…They were finalizing a lot of the features without coming to me to see if it would work or not. One of the features for accessibility on the clover bowl—they made the grade too steep because they didn't consult me. There were other features in the [skate]park that they said they 166 weren't going to do and I'm like, “No, like you advertised in the paper that this was going to be a wheelchair accessible skatepark and now you're going back on that, like I'd be happy to go to the paper and tell them that this isn't going to be a wheelchair accessible skatepark.” I feel like a lot of companies do this where it’s like “Listen, we’re going to be accessible! It's like all this incentive and funding because it's such a good deed. But then when it comes to it, it’s like “Oh, no, it's not a big deal. We got the money; we're not going to be focusing on those things.” It's just so frustrating! (laugh) So that's kind of what they were doing, and I went to the skatepark in person because, you know, emails didn’t work. I was like, “I'm just going to show my face, I'm going to express to them my concerns.” So, I went to the park crew that was there and found out who was in charge and explained to them the need for this and that they have messed up a few of the features that should have been inclusive. He wasn't really on board with it but then confessed, “Well, I'm a volunteer for Special Olympics.” I was like, “Well, then you know the importance of this, and how we need to make this happen.” Finally, he caved. They re-designed a couple of the features and went forward with it, because we had some extra funding, but I had to be on them for that push. If I had just backed off, it wasn’t going to happen. Instances like Darryl’s occur far too often and have left some disabled riders less than optimistic about the future of accessible skateparks and inclusive designs, as Brett expressed: Nikolaus: Do you think skateparks are becoming more accessible? Brett: No. Not at all. I'd honestly say the opposite because they've got no reason to. I would love it if people thought about it more and thought about the inclusive skaters that are going to be coming out there and doing things like blind people. Other disabled riders, like Erik, discussed how he believed a general fear of accessibility and an able-bodied bias from those within the skateboarding (sub)culture, including those involved in the planning, design, and development of skateparks, has hampered the progress of accessible skateparks for different users, including adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders: If [skatepark planners and designers] do think about it, they're like, “Oh, my God, an accessible skateboard park is going to be a parking lot, it's going to be flat, there's going to be nothing,” you know what I mean? Like in their mind, accessibility means everything is going to be really super easy and there's not going to be any of this other stuff. So, there's a fear, if we make it accessible, it will be unchallenging and boring. So, I would say that the culture probably has this inherent bias and belief that we, as people with disabilities, also want this flat, easy, kind of unchallenging thing and that's not the case, right? So, I think that is something that I would like them to understand, you know what I mean? 167 Some disabled riders, like Traci, took a much more critical position to the notion of accessibility and questioned whether an accessible skatepark was desired or even possible: Nikolaus: And when you say “more parks”—do you want them to be accessible for different types of skaters? Tracie: Well, that’s a hard question. It depends on what we’re talking about by “accessible,” right? You see, you've opened up a big box there. [Nikolaus: Right]. It depends on what you mean by “accessible,” because there are so many ideas. I understand a lot of people want it so [that] you can roll out of every bowl—that shouldn't happen. My idea of accessible is if I go to a [skate]park, I want to find something different I can do with that [skate]park—maybe I can fit my chair onto a hubba or just jump off a thing. That would be fun for me but having it accessible…I know somebody had an issue with one [skate]park that had stairs going into it. I can get down a set of stairs. Maybe everybody can't. You know, I'm not really a complainer. You know, is Venice [Beach skatepark] accessible? You can't get up and down every ramp when you're a beginner. Would I like it if all the coping was painted a colour? I would love that because I can't see it. Does it need to be? No, because I can feel it with my butt. I don't know.. what does “accessible” really mean? “Should every [skate]park have a rail I can ride on?” No. I prefer flat rails. I have one that I can carry around if I want to. There's a lot to be said for accessible skateparks. There’s a little give and take here. It is not good for everybody and there isn’t anything that is good for everybody. Following similar remarks, Matt explained how some disabled riders, like visually impaired skateboarder, Justin Bishop, have advocated for non-adaptive skateparks and against the reliance of adaptive designs and features in skateparks: Justin Bishop is a huge hero and he's a thinker, too. He's actually the biggest advocate for non-adaptive skateparks. He obviously supports adaptive skateboarding and whatever skateparks need to be to be more inclusive, but his focus—and whenever he teaches kids or empowers kids— is to actually have kids not worry about adaptation, but just figuring out the spot for themselves on their own terms. One of our fears with adaptive skatepark design is having a skateboarder’s experience wholly determined by design, which would be super limiting, right? They would be really dependent on like transition markers and guidelines and all that stuff and that would box them into this specific way of skateboarding that would bar them from maybe trying street skateboarding. The limits of accessible skatepark design and a general desire to engage with different skate spaces led many adaptive skateboarders and WCXM riders to note how they had increasingly started to 168 engage with the streets. In fact, for some, the streets were not only more accessible in some ways, but allowed the rider the opportunity to be creative and to challenge themselves in unique ways that worked for them, their skillset, and riding style, as David L. explained: I am getting more and more into street skating, and it fascinates me. Things of accessibility give opportunities to skateboarders, you know, like a wheelchair ramp can be the kicker too (laugh). For me, of course, I can use the non-accessible stuff to do something but can still use the ramp to get up again. Last weekend, we had a street tour in Berlin, and it was great. They had just reopened the new National Gallery and there were so many skateboarders and because now it also has a wheelchair ramp, it was like easy to get there…It's just nice to see that now when it is accessible, you can reach it, you can be there, and you can like try to skate with it. “Hmm, what can I do here?” Sometimes it takes a while, [but] you’ll find a way to do stuff there, and you get the props, and you get the motivation and that’s great! According to David L., the features at this specific street spot not only made the space more accessible for him and other everyday wheelchair users, but also doubled as a feature that WCMX riders and skateboarders could perform tricks and maneuvers on and over. 6.4 DIY Practices, Adaptive Tools, and Assistive Technologies Accounts from the participants highlighted how many disabled riders used, and in some cases, relied upon DIY practices, adaptive tools, and assistive technologies to enhance their mobility and riding performances and to make certain spaces and features accessible for them and their riding styles. For visually impaired skateboarder, Justin, this process entailed using a range of different DIY tools and assistive technologies: What I do is, I have the trick in my head I want to do and then I have to figure out how to do it. If it involves me adjusting to how I'm skating or getting tools to get the trick, like the only thing that's important to me is getting the trick, not what I look like. I probably look so weird skating. (laugh). Like I have a rope, my ball tip, there’s beeping going on, it is a whole thing, but I get the trick, so that's the only thing that's important to me. For other visually impaired skateboarders, like Matt, DIY temporary adaptive measures, like duct tape was used to make certain skate space and features accessible for him and other skateboarders: 169 We use temporary materials for adaptive measure. When we go to our local [skatepark] it's all just gray, right? We call it the “Sea of gray.” We can't see anything there. It's all just flat. We just buy— I think last time we spent $500 on duct tape to last a while so that we can put down these really minor, but effective adaptive measures—those being transition markers and guidelines. So, we put down our high contrast [duct tape] and I use little markers here and there to guide me to spots or guide myself to a rail or whatever. So, we're just like constantly using duct tape in lieu of skatepark design that wasn't inclusive to begin with. Along with duct tape, other visually impaired skateboarders noted how they would use everyday items like backpacks, toques, and shoes to act as markers within skate spaces in efforts to make the space or feature more accessible to them, and at once, to enhance their riding performances: Matt: To jump down a grey set of stairs. It's like toque up top for where I am popping, and then backpack down low for where I'm landing. That gives me enough info. Brett: Generally, I'll use tape. I'll just use like thick, black gorilla glue tape. I'll put like a row or two of that right at the edge of either a box, stairs, or whatever it is, or I’ll put like a skateboard there. I’ll put two shoes. Just anything that can mark a spot for me really. Then, I'll just keep my eye on that spot. I catch it for a second and go “Oh, there it is” Then I’ll know to ollie right around then. While several visually impaired skateboarders noted how they would use duct tape or other items to act as markers in skate spaces to enhance their riding performances or to make the space or certain features more accessible to them, one visually impaired skateboarder, Justin, noted how he used rope to help guide him to and from certain features: Nikolaus: I saw a recent video of yourself using a rope when leading up to a handrail. Can you tell me how that came about and why you use a rope? Justin: When I was trying to get my first handrail, it took about five, six months for me to get it. It was just a natural evolution. The first day I couldn't get the confidence to do it. I didn't want to just ollie and hope the handrail is there, you know? You're so afraid of like really nutting it (laugh) or really hurting yourself. So, I was like, “I just don't have the confidence” and you know, after a while, I was like, “Fuck, why don't I just use a rope?” Like a rope is so simple and I've been skating without sight for five years and it took five years to be like, “Oh, rope!” So, it evolved from the first handrail and then now I use it for any kind of precision…Depending on how much speed I need, how narrow the stairs set is, I'll set up a rope to give me an exact guidance [and] I'll use the rope to guide me 170 precisely to the stairs. I just go to Home Depot; they have these like pretty nice silk ropes. So, I have a couple different [ropes] in my backpack. This DIY practice, according to Justin, not only gave him access to certain spaces and features, but also gave him the confidence to engage with and perform tricks on and over these features. Using adaptive tools to engage with and navigate different skate spaces was also a common practice among WCMX riders, like Jonte, who outlined how he would bring his own moveable ramp and or rail to skate spaces to make the space or features within it accessible to him: I have like a little flat rail myself that I have in the car that I bring to sessions. [My friend] is always talking about building a little kicker that he wants to have in his car. So, I think once you have like movable stuff like kickers and rails, you definitely use [them and have] a lot of cool options that you can do. Although these temporary DIY adaptive measures and adaptive tools and were effective for some riders, others, like Brett, disclosed their desire to make these adaptive measures permanent and noted how he had entertained the idea of using spray paint at skateparks to mark out guidelines in order to make the space more inclusive for him and other visually impaired skateboarders: I'm taking a spray paint can to the skatepark and I'm just gonna start spray painting it and I don't mean like tagging it. I mean, like making lines for me so I can see where I'm going. Some visually impaired skateboarders, like Matt, discussed the potential of including miniature three-dimensional models of the skatepark at the entrance of the space so that visually impaired skateboarders could familiarize themselves with the space before entering it: One thing we low vision skaters do with a new [skate]park is we do a walk through just to try to gain some sense of how the [skate]park works and the flow and the size of the ramps and the steepness of the transitions—all that stuff needs to be learned by feel. So, a walkthrough is huge for us. But at busy [skate]parks, kids are just ripping, and you can't do a walkthrough. So, the function of a 3D model is to be able to do like a miniature or a scaled back walkthrough. That helps a low vision skater find an obstacle that he wants to skate. If I was fully blind, or like when I'm fully blind, I'm going to be like just hunting out the mini ramp, like, “Where in the skatepark is the mini ramp?” [It is] like one of those items that helps you feel like you belong at the skatepark, but it also doesn't get in the way of your entire experience, like you're not wholly dependent on a 3D 171 model to be able to skate a park, but if there's a 3D model there and you can learn the [skate]park without being in anyone's way or like going around to your the local [skate]park with a with your cane out and getting in everyone's way, that's a great introduction, and an inclusive feature that really helps people get their head around the [skate]park and find the feature they want to skate and then also start to explore other features all while not being in the way. According to Matt, the implementation of three-dimensional models outside of skateparks could help visually impaired skateboarders familiarize themselves with the space and, at once, provide them with the confidence and assurance needed to navigate the space independently. Admittedly, this was something I had never thought of as an able-bodied and fully sighted skateboarder, but as this reflection below outlines, was something I was really interested in learning more about: In conversation today with a participant, I learned about the possibility of using 3-D models at the entrance of skateparks to help visually impaired and low vison skaters learn about the skatepark, its features, and its layout. This small, yet significant feature was something I had truly never thought of as a fully sighted skateboarder (my own able-bodied biases seeping in). I can’t imagine that the creation and instillation of one of these devices would cost too much, and in my opinion, could be a very effective tool to help visually impaired individuals feel more comfortable within a skatepark. In addition to three-dimensional models, several visually impaired skateboarders outlined how they would regularly use assistive technologies like “beeperboxes” to help them engage with and navigate material skate spaces and features. Beeperboxes are small electronic devices that emit a series of auditory beeps that indicate certain targets, objects, and or features in a space and are commonly used by visually impaired users to help them navigate different environments. These assistive technologies, according to Matt, worked quite well and could allow himself and other visually impaired skateboarders the opportunity to better orient themselves within certain spaces: I love beeperboxes for flat bars. We actually use beeperboxes for [visually impaired] kids to either hit the flat bar or avoid it, because we'll put it underneath the flat bar right in the middle. It's pretty annoying, but you kind of get used to it. You’re just skating around in the park where there's the ledge in the bank and the beeping is where the flat bar is so, you know, if you don't want to trip or take one to the shin, just stay away from the beeping. I think that's the most solid use, 172 is like positional awareness for the beepers. Another great thing is like when you're teaching a kid and you're just in some big open space, maybe like a like a gym or a skatepark or whatever and you just need them to stay in one area. You just put a beeperbox down to act as an anchor or a center point…It's crazy trying to learn any environment with no vision and it's really crazy to try to learn a skatepark no vison. So, positional referencing is like really huge. Positional anchoring is really huge and beeperboxes do that really, really well. Participants also outlined how they would either make equipment modifications or use certain equipment to enhance their access to and navigations within certain skate spaces. For instance, adaptive skateboarder, Jesse (who has a SCI and pushes with his hands while sitting on a skateboard), discussed how he created a pair of half-shoe, half-glove creations known as “shoves,” to improve his riding style and mobilities and to keep his hands free of dirt and injury: I went to my shed and got some gardening gloves, and I started pushing up and down my street. I thought, “Wow, this is cool.” So, I decided to keep doing that, but the gloves, they kept slipping off my hands. When I was pushing, I clenched the gloves because they kept sliding off and I was pushing them under the knuckle of my hand and I kept thinking, “If I had some sort of like a shoe device or something on my hands I could probably push a lot better.” So, I came home, and I made a pair of these things [shoves]. What I do is I take the tip of a shoe, I get shoe-goo, and I glue them to gloves…. It is necessary. They say necessity is the mother of inventions. (laugh). WCMX rider, Darryl, discussed how he replaced his WCMX chair caster wheels with skateboard wheels and noted how this equipment modification provided him with greater stability and speed: Nikolaus: I see that you use skateboard wheels on your wheelchair. Can you tell me a little bit about that and why you do that? Darryl: Yeah, [skateboard wheels as casters] are hugely functional. Say you grab a shopping cart, and you go really fast in the shopping cart. You know, you get that flutter? So, that's a contribution not only to the angle at what the caster’s mounted at, but also the radius of the wheel from axle point. So, the larger the wheel, the farther away the axle is, the more drag there actually is. So that creates that kind of flutter motion. So, when you narrow down that radius, to say the size of the skateboard wheel, it's a lot closer to the axle, so there's less drag behind the wheel to actually create that flutter. So, that's why when Aaron drops into the mega ramp, he's not getting that caster flutter because if you hop into like, you know, a Walmart wheelchair or hospital wheelchair with a big 12-inch casters, (laugh) it's like you don't go very fast before they start doing this [fluttering], but the smaller-and-smaller a wheel gets, the faster you basically can go. 173 Whether it is replacing one’s caster wheels with skateboard wheels, or using duct tape, rope, and everyday items to access different material spaces, conversations with disabled riders illuminated how many of them used what Erik refers to as “do-it-yourself assistive technologies” (DIY-AT) to enhance their riding performances or make certain spaces or features more accessible to them: When people think of assistive technology, a lot of it is this really high-tech stuff. Only institutions like government and colleges can afford to make this stuff, you know, like exoskeletons and stair climbing wheelchairs and blah, blah, blah. But below that in the pyramid, there are all these DIYers. I call it, “DIY-AT”— do-it-yourself adaptive technology. I'm not even calling it a “system,” I am calling it “adaptive,” because the thing is, like, what we're trying to do is adapt commercially available stuff that we can buy relatively cheaply, and make it work for us. We're not trying to make a product. I'm adapting stuff. I'm buying cheap things that are available and then saying, like, “How can I make it work for me?” Some of the best adaptive equipment has been made now by people with disabilities, like they've come up with better designs, you know, and so they can do more stuff now, right? So, now people can just do more. So, the fact that people can do more, it brings in more people. So, it's this advancement in performance, which is driven by better technology. According to Erik, DIY-AT practices used by disabled riders not only have the potential to provide the riders with greater access to certain spaces and activities for little to no money but may help get disabled people involved in sport and leisure practices like adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. 6.5 Barriers and Inaccessible Skate Spaces Disabled riders also discussed certain barriers that they had encountered with and within different material skate spaces. These accounts varied. While some participants noted that they would simply avoid spaces with “rough ground” (Colton), other riders, like visually impaired skateboarder, Dan, discussed how he chose not to engage with certain material spaces or features because they were inaccessible to him and his riding style: I mean, there's a lot of spots that I don't skate just because they are not accessible—either it’s too big, or I can't get to the obstacle. There are a million spots that are just not accessible. It all depends on the spot. Just not being able to get to the obstacle would be like the thing. Other than that, not being able to do things that I want to do just as a blind person. Certain obstacles not being 174 accessible and stuff like that. Very short things—like if it’s a ledge or a flat bar or something, if it's really short, it's really hard to skate cause I don’t have enough time to set up and skate it. Accounts from others, like Justin, detailed how he and other visually impaired skateboarders would avoid riding in certain skate spaces or skateparks that were either too crowded or too loud: [I avoid certain spaces] if [the space is] too loud or too packed, because I use sound a lot in my skateboarding. If I can't hear my beeper[box], it's hard—it's not a fun time. It is more stressful when I can't hear my beacon. So, there's that, and then when it's too packed, you know? I'll just get in the way because I need to know when it's my turn. Usually when people are taking their turns, they just do it visually. So, I'll just usually get out of there if it's too busy. For others, like Matt, it was the lack of colour contrast within skatepark settings that led him and other visually impaired skateboarders to avoid what they call “ghost parks:” With my vision loss, I cannot deal with [skate]parks that don't have any colour. I have to be really careful. I don't even cruise through Mills [skatepark] anymore because the bumps are invisible. You know, like the tables and all that stuff. So, I [have to] be really careful at plain coloured skateparks. So, like, if I go to Banff skatepark, I'm ripping. It’s coloured transitions and all this stuff and even have some texture stuff and notched coping, but then if I go just a block over to [the] Canmore skatepark, it's totally grey and super hard to skate. So, yeah any “ghost park.” We call the grey concrete [skateparks] “ghost parks” are really starting to become a challenge for me. So, spaces I avoid are grey parks. Similarly, WCMX riders discussed how inaccessible skatepark designs and the inability to access certain areas in the space independently resulted in many choosing to avoid certain spaces or, in Jonte’s case, certain features, despite his desire to ride the space or features in it: For me, the biggest issues in skateparks are that you can't get up quarter ramps yourself. Like, I mean, dropping in [on] quarters is really cool because you get a little more speed and for me, I always get an adrenaline rush because I don’t do it often. So, like every time I do it, I know that I can do it, but I'm still excited to do it. But you always need someone who gets you up there. Same thing for bowls, like I would like to ride more bowls, but I would like to do it on my own. So, like that I don't need anyone to push me out of there. Some participants, like Nick and Robert, chose not to ride certain spaces or features due to a fear of injuring themselves, or because of previous negative experiences riding similar features: 175 Nick: I kind of try to avoid skating stairs and handrails. That's what I've been avoiding for a period of time. I fell really hard a couple years ago, and kind of stepped away from that stuff. Robert: Generally, within a [skate]park, I’ll sort of not do the stairs, or at least not the proper big sets and stuff. I'll get hurt. I, for one, have two very good working arms and wrists and stuff and transition just feels a bit better. I just prefer not to take the hard impact. Other disabled riders were not necessarily concerned with the risk of injury, but were rather concerned about their own safety and wellbeing in the space, and as a result, opted to avoid certain skateparks or areas, as Tracie explained: There was a [skate]park that's reasonably close, called Sheldon skatepark. Now, there are no [skate]parks that I would avoid, honestly, until recently, and that is because there is currently an encampment right outside. I was gonna meet my friend at Sheldon skatepark. I wouldn't even park my car there because there were all these RVs and we would meet at Sheldon skatepark, you know, before, all the time, but like, I was afraid to park. She had already parked and gone into skate. I was like, “No!” There was so much garbage, I was afraid I was gonna pop a tire or something like that, or someone was gonna to attack me. So, I just drove through and went somewhere else. I wasn't afraid to go anywhere because I figured you know, I'm an adult, I can handle whatever, you know, and if I get out of my car, and I see something, of course, I'm gonna leave, but if you looked in that [skate]park, just driving by, there was just glass and dirt everywhere. These experiences, and avoiding certain skateparks or spaces due to a fear of being harassed or attacked were admittedly deliberations that I, as a white, able-bodied man have seldom (if ever) had to endure or consider when riding or choosing where to ride, as this reflexive passage details: Conversations with some of the women in the study have drawn my attention to the fact that they do not necessarily feel comfortable riding in certain areas or certain parks due to safety concerns. To be honest, this is something that I have never thought about, nor had to really think about… This, of course, in large part can likely be traced back to my own privileged positionality in the skateboarding world and society more generally. Such conversations got me thinking about how my gender, race, and age all work in in ways to grant me feelings of acceptance, and safety and security in spaces, like skateparks and recognize that this might not be the same for disabled individuals, people of colour, or for girls and women or those from the queer community… 176 According to Tracie, she avoided riding certain skateparks not only due to concerns for her own safety, but also drew attention to how the cleanliness of the space was also an issue and reason why she chose not to engage with this particular skatepark. Tracie was not the only rider to address the issue of cleanliness within different skate spaces. Adaptive skateboarder, Anyelo—who pushes with his hands—also expressed similar concerns and noted that, although he would like to engage with the streets and street skateboarding more, the dirt and cleanliness of these spaces made it particularly difficult for him and his riding style to engage with these urban spaces: I don’t feel confident about going to the streets, even though street [skating] is what I love the most. It wouldn’t be possible here because of the floors. We have a lot of different kinds of floors, so it makes it difficult. It is extremely dirty, and I have to push with my hands. So, they get extremely dirty. According to both Anyelo and Tracie, the cleanliness of the space matters, and could be one reason why disabled riders may choose to not engage with certain material skate spaces. In addition to these barriers, Anyelo and others discussed how certain rules and regulations imposed in skateparks, like limited hours of operation, limited him and other park users access to certain skateparks with such rules in effect: It is really hard because [skateparks here] are open from 6:00am to 5:00pm. We work from 8:00am to 5:00pm or 6:00pm. So those that have a job are not going to be able to skate. WCMX riders discussed the impact of similar skatepark-based rules and noted how some skateparks still impose “skateboard-only” rules within them which limit who can and cannot participate within these built-environments. Such rulings, as Katherine noted, not only effect (and prohibit) scooters, BMX riders, and rollerbladers from engaging with these spaces, but can impact wheelchair users and WCMX rider from riding within these spaces as well: [It] wasn't too many years ago, where a lot of skateparks would have like a “skateboard-only rule,” and they would say, “No bikes, no scooters.” So, if you weren't on a skateboard, they wouldn't let you in [and] people actually went to the State and petitioned to let wheelchairs in skateparks. 177 Though Katherine noted how these rules have changed, at least locally, discussions with others suggested that skateparks still impose similar “skateboard-only” rules within them. According to some riders, like Dorian and Tracie, the lack of nearby (accessible) skateparks in their communities meant that they had to travel over an hour (one way) just to ride: Tracie: The [skatepark] is pretty skateable for a wheelchair. It's just, you know, an hour and a half drive. Dorian: I have to travel by train for an hour to get [to the skatepark]. Then I can skate. I either have to sleep at my dad's place [there] or at [a friend’s] place, because I don't want to skate for three hours and then have to ride an hour back. I have to do this because, here in Arnhem, there are no skating facilities. While Dorian and Tracie discussed how the distance to and from (accessible) skateparks could be a barrier for some, others, like Dan, discussed the financial costs of transportation to and from skateparks made it difficult for him and other to access and ride certain spaces: Transportation is actually an issue as well. You know, it cost money. So, yeah, the indoor park here is about a thirty-dollar Uber ride one way. So that's a $60 session. That’s what it’s gonna cost me to go skate one day a week. That's huge. In addition to these financial barriers, Tracie discussed how she would not engage with certain skateparks due to the lack of accessible and available amenities at or around the space: We need more bathrooms. We need bathrooms and water! So, a lot of times, I don’t go to certain skateparks because I have to make sure that there is a lady’s room close by that is open. WCMX rider, David L. expressed similar sentiments and noted how in Germany (where he resides), very few skateparks are accessible nor have accessible amenities like washrooms nearby: In Germany we are really behind at this point. We don't have accessibility. All the skateparks [that I went to in America], or most of them, had at least an accessible way to it and an accessible toilet next to it. I was like, “Oh wow! I don’t have to pee in the bush because the toilet is there and accessible.” According to participants, having accessible amenities close to skateparks can influence and in some cases, deter park users, like disabled riders from engaging with certain skateparks. 178 6.6 Discussion This chapter explored how disabled riders engage with, navigate, and access different material skate spaces. Discussions with the participants detailed how they opted to engage with different skate spaces, in different ways, for a variety of different reasons. These engagements included riding in skateparks, the streets, and DIY spots. Given the individualized and creative nature of skateboarding (Beal, 2013; Borden, 2019; Snyder, 2017), it was interesting to note that many participants did not necessarily have a desire for completely accessible skateparks and skate spaces, and instead, outlined how they enjoyed the challenge of “figuring out,” and “interpreting,” different spaces and obstacles in ways that worked for them, their skillsets, and riding styles (Borden, 2019). Such engagements led some disabled riders to question the very notion of accessibility and the push for more accessible skateparks from within the skateboarding community and argued that the creation of completely accessible skateparks for all users (though well-intended), would be difficult to do, as accessibility is so variant and differs from rider-to-rider. These questions raised by disabled riders get at the very questions posed by critical scholar, Aimi Hamraie (2017), and their critical take on the concept of universal design and questioning whether or not designers know who “everyone” might entail when creating universal designs accessible to everyone. Work from Hamraie not only highlights the concerns that disabled riders raised regarding accessibility, and the desire for accessible skateparks, but similarly questions the practicality of implementing accessible designs that accommodate every rider and riding style. Although disabled riders outlined how they would engage with most skate spaces and would make most features and obstacles work for them and their riding styles, some participants did note that one of the reasons why they chose to engage with certain spaces over others was because of the accessibility of the space and the features within it. Ideas of accessibility, of course, 179 varied drastically among disabled riders and were shaped by a range of factors including their impairment type and riding style. Visually impaired skateboarders, for instance, noted how longer rails and ledges and wider features such as stair sets, quarter pipes, and manual pads were much more accessible to them and their riding styles. WCMX riders, on the contrary, noted how having access to different levels of a skate space was key for them, and outlined how including access points in and out of different features within skateparks, like bowls and quarterpipes, would make the space more accessible to them and their riding styles. According to WCMX riders, having access to and from and in and out of different features would not only make the space more accessible, but could allow them greater freedom, mobility, independence, and confidence within these spaces, as they would not have to rely upon the assistance of others to help get them in-and-out of or on top of certain material features. In other words, it appears that having (even a few) accessible features and designs within sporting spaces, and in this context skateparks, could help foster a welcoming environment for disabled people with different riding styles, and at once, provide them with a greater sense of freedom, mobility, and independence within these spaces. A few riders noted how the environment of the space led them to avoid engaging with certain spaces or features. For example, visually impaired skateboarders noted how they would avoid or leave skateparks or skate spaces that were either “too loud” or “too busy” and discussed how these factors made it difficult for them engage with and navigate certain spaces, as they could not rely on visual cues nor hear (or hear their beeperboxes) around them. These skate spaces, according to participants, brought on anxieties for many and led several visually impaired skateboarders to note how they would simply avoid busy and loud skateparks and skate spaces in favour of spaces that were quiet and less busy. 180 Visually impaired skateboarders also discussed how many of them would avoid engaging with skate spaces and skateparks that had little to no colour contrast within them and noted how completely grey skateparks were difficult to navigate for them. These “ghost parks,” or “seas of grey” as many referred to them, were spaces that many visually impaired skateboarders would simply avoid as they could not navigate or access them. The importance of colour contrast within urban design is not necessarily a new consideration (Cushley et al., 2022). However, when it comes to the planning, development, and design of skateparks, it appears that few companies have considered how the colour of the space, such as entirely grey spaces, may impact different users and their ability to engage with and navigate the space. In their recent work, O’Connor et al. (2022) toyed with the notion of greyness and grey skate spaces in skateboarding. They framed skateboarding in both the material and symbolic space of greyness and outlined how grey spaces can lend itself to further “nuance and complexity when it comes to doing and understanding outdoor leisure in urban space” (p. 1). Borrowing ideas from O’Connor et al. and situating them with the participants’ accounts, we can begin to understand how grey spaces in skateboarding can operate in ways that exclude and make certain leisure pursuits and movement practices difficult for certain user groups. With these points in mind, it’s important that stakeholders and companies involved in the planning and development of skateparks are not only are aware of the ways in which greyness (and colour) can impact the participation of different user groups within these leisure spaces but should be in consultation with different user groups during the development and planning of a new skate space in order to account for their ideas and suggestions (Carr, 2012a). Inaccessible designs and features in skateparks resulted in some disabled riders noting how increasingly they were attracted to riding the streets and engaging with DIY spaces. Those who rode these spaces noted how, in some cases, they not only found these spaces and features more 181 accessible to them and their riding styles, but noted how their engagements within these spaces allowed them the opportunity to further mould their disabled rider identities within the skateboarding (sub)culture (Atencio et al., 2009; Chivers Yochim, 2010; Dupont, 2014). For other disabled riders, the decision to start engaging with street spaces and DIY spaces over skateparks was not necessarily a result of inaccessible designs in skateparks, but rather a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the fact that public spaces, like skateparks, were shut down by governments to preserve the health and safety of community members (Wilke et al., 2021). One of the resulting factors of shutting down public spaces, like skateparks, was that many skateboarders (disabled riders included) saw this unique moment in time as an opportunity to engage with and ride street spaces that were previously difficult to access (and ride) due to a variety of reasons, including the policing of space (from security guards and concerned citizens) and the busyness of certain areas (McDuie-Ra, 2023b). According to several riders, the closure of skateparks due to the COVID-19 pandemic allowed them the opportunity to ride new and unique terrains, and, in some cases, shifted their riding style and encouraged them to take up street riding and engagements with DIY spaces. Inaccessible skate spaces and designs led many disabled riders to use different adaptive tools, assistive technologies, and DIY modifications to make certain spaces or features accessible for them and their riding styles. For instance, WCMX riders discussed how they would create and bring moveable ramps with them to skateparks and noted how the addition of these devices allowed them greater access to certain spaces or features within the space, like rails, ledges, boxes, and different levels within the space. Other WCMX riders noted how they engaged in DIY practices and made equipment modifications to their customized WCMX chairs and replaced their wheelchair caster wheels with skateboard wheels. This small, yet significant equipment modification, according to the participants, was not only a nod to the skateboarding (sub)culture, 182 but importantly, allowed for greater stability, speed and control in different material spaces. In addition to these tools and modifications, visually impaired skateboarders noted how they would use assistive technologies to help them engage with certain spaces or features. One such assistive technology that was used by many visually impaired skateboarders were beeperboxes. This electronic device provided visually impaired skateboarders with auditory cues that were used to help them to access and navigate certain spaces and features, and according to many, provided them with a greater sense of mobility, freedom, and independence within different material spaces (Asare et al., 2023; Lundberg et al., 2011a). Situating these findings within CDS and drawing upon ideas from posthumanism, we can see how assistive technologies were used by many visually impaired skateboarders to help with their navigation of certain spaces (Goodley et al., 2014, 2019). Such findings illustrate a connectedness between technologies, the material envrioment, and the corporeal movement practices of visually impaired skateboarders and highlight how certain technologies may help riders engage with and navigate different sporting spaces (Nayar, 2018). The use of these assistive technologies appeared to not only influenced disabled riders’ movement practices within different material spaces, but according to participants, allowed them greater mobility and independence within them (Asare et al., 2023; Ravneberg & Söderström, 2017). In addition to using assistive technologies to enhance disabled riders’ access to and navigations of different material spaces and features, several participants discussed how they would create their own device and make equipment modifications using everyday objects. This practice, also known as DIY-AT, has been something that disabled people and disabled athletes alike have been engaging with for decades now (Bundon et al., 2017; Hurst & Tobias, 2011). Researchers have posed that one of the reasons why so many disabled people engage in DIY-AT can, in part, be attributed to the rising costs of assistive technologies (Karki et al., 2023), but can 183 also be attributed to poor equipment design, a lack of available equipment, changing user needs, and a general lack of consideration given to the users and their needs (Hurst & Tobias, 2011). As a result, disabled people have taken it upon themselves to create their own assistive technologies, and DIY remedies that allow them the ability to accomplish certain tasks, and in the case of disabled riders, to engage with and access different material spaces and features. For instance, visually impaired skateboarders outlined how they used duct tape, spray paint, rope, and clothing items like shoes, toques, backpacks, and speakers to mark out and make skate spaces and skateparks accessible to them and their riding styles, while others, like those who use their hands to push, created their own glove-like devices using everyday materials which provided them with protection and grip when riding. According to the participants, the creation of these DIY-AT devices were not only more affordable, but were also quite effective, and allowed for greater mobility, independence, confidence, and riding performances. Such findings highlight both the significance of DIY practices within the skateboarding (sub)culture (Borden, 2019; Peters, 2018) and illustrate how DIY-AT creations designed and used by disabled riders may improve mobility and access to different material skate spaces (Asare et al., 2023; Hurst & Tobias, 2011). Disabled riders were quite candid about challenges and barriers that they encountered when engaging with or attempting to engage with certain material skate spaces and noted how larger social, structural, and environmental factors seemed to influence their participation in certain spaces. For instance, some disabled riders noted how due to a lack of nearby (accessible) skateparks, they were forced to travel sometimes great distances (1+ hour each way) just to ride. In some cases, this meant that the disabled riders had to rely on public transportation to get to these locations. This was a cheaper option, however, due to the lack of available public transportation, many riders noted how they had to either rely on friends or pay for ride share companies to get to- 184 and-from the skate space. These associated costs of travel to and from skate spaces proved to be a barrier for some and made it difficult for some disabled riders to regularly ride. This point is notable, given that disabled people are often associated with lower economic status and more likely to encounter economic constraints that inhibit them from participating in sport and physical activity settings (Darcy et al., 2017; Saxton, 2018). Using an intersectional lens illuminates how disability and socioeconomic status intertwine and can influence disabled riders engagements with different material skate spaces (Flintoff & Scranton, 2008; Woolley et al., 2011). For some disabled riders, the lack of available and accessible amenities in and around skateparks was reason enough to not engage with or avoid certain skateparks. This was particularly true for the WCMX riders, who noted how the lack of accessible washrooms, pathways to and from the space, rest areas, and water fountains may influence their decisions to (not) engage with the space. This finding seems to reiterate what previous disability work has found, in that, inaccessible amenities and inadequate sporting spaces and features continue to be a barrier that inhibits disabled people from engaging with sport and physical activity (Brittain et al., 2020; Carty et al., 2021; Jaarsma et al., 2014; Riley et al., 2008). This finding, however, was very context-dependent and seemed to vary among participants of different countries. Some participants, for instance, boasting about how certain countries, like the USA and Canada, were much more accessible to disabled people than other countries. In part, this could be due to the fact that both countries have accessibility acts and laws within them, including the Accessible Canada Act (ACA) in Canada and The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in the USA. While ADA has been in place since 1990, ACA only came into effect in 2019. Both laws, while different in their own respects, are bonded over their intent to protect disabled people from discrimination and, at once, create barrier-free societies through various accommodations, including imposing 185 accessibility requirements on and within public facilities, like skateparks (Government of Canada, 2022; U.S. Department of Justice Civil Rights Division, 2023). Though no disabled riders from Canada or USA discussed these laws or the implications of these acts directly on skateparks, some participants, like Dan noted how most of the skateparks he engaged with in the USA were “minimally accessible,” and outlined how little to no effort was or is being made to make skateparks accommodating for different park users, including disabled people. Comments like this from Dan and others make it difficult to determine the extent to which these acts have had on the planning, design, and development of skateparks and amenities in these spaces—especially given the newness of acts like ACA. Therefore, moving forward, it would be beneficial for a more refined focus and study that explores the extent to which these acts are accounted for and implemented during the development of skateparks or skate spaces and how such acts can influence both the design and planning process, and who engages with these spaces. According to some disabled riders, one of the reasons they were unable to engage with certain skateparks and skate spaces was because of the rules implemented within them, such as limited hours of operation and skateboard-only rules. As participants noted, skateboard-only rules within skateparks not only have implications on other park users like, in-line skaters (rollerblades), BMX riders, and scooter riders, but impact WCMX riders and those in wheelchairs from engaging with and entering skateparks with these rules in effect. Such policies are often imposed under the auspices that they will persevere the health and safety of certain park users (skateboarders) (Glenney & O’Connor, 2019). However, as this work illustrates, such rulings also have the capacity to work in exclusionary ways that prohibit certain users from engaging with the space based their riding styles and the devices they use. Although WCMX riders, like Katherine, have noted how advocacy work from those within the WCMX world and wider disability community 186 have been able to successful challenge and change the implementation of skateboard-only rules within certain contexts, similar rules remain in effect in many other skateparks today (Surfer Today, 2022). Such rulings imposed within skateparks, as Borden (2019) and others note, can lead individuals to boycott or simply avoid the space and, as a result, may lose park users that these spaces are most intended to reach, such as those from marginalized communities (Carr, 2012b; Turner, 2013). Situating this work within CDS highlights how such rulings not only advertently exclude different park users from engaging with spaces that implement skateboard-only rules but highlights how such rulings are ableist in design and can impact the engagements and experiences of disabled people within these spaces who may use wheelchairs, WCMX chairs, or other customized devices to ride (Brittain et al., 2020; Goodley, 2014; Shildrick, 2012). A few participants discussed how they would avoid engaging with certain skate spaces or features due to safety concerns. For instance, some disabled riders noted how the cleanliness of the space mattered and could influence their engagements with and within it. These concerns seemed to be more apparent among disabled riders who pushed with their hands and WCMX riders who engaged with these spaces in their customized WCMX chairs. In both cases, the participants noted how engaging with dirty spaces containing rocks, fractured concrete, garbage, and broken glass, heightened their risk of injuring themselves (i.e., cutting their hands) or damaging their equipment (i.e., popping wheelchair wheels) and, as a result, were avoided. Alongside these concerns, a few disabled riders noted how they would avoid engaging with certain spaces or features due to the fear of injuring themselves or because of previous negative experiences with similar spaces. This included spaces and features in both skatepark settings and the streets and were expressed by participants with different riding styles. These findings confirm what Kern et al. (2014) found where they highlighted how the fear of injury and experiences with injury can 187 shape skateboarders’ perceptions of risk and influence their behaviours and engagements with and within certain spaces. Such a finding seemed to hold true among disabled riders as well. For other disabled riders, it was not necessarily a fear of injury that led them to avoid certain spaces, but rather fears for their own safety and wellbeing within certain skate spaces. For instance, a few disabled riders disclosed how they would avoid certain skate spaces due to a fear of being attacked, harassed, or interrogated by others using the space or those near the space, such as those experiencing homelessness. These safety concerns expressed by the participants could be a by-product of negative public perceptions attached to those experiencing homelessness (Tsai et al., 2019). However, in drawing upon an intersectional lens, it appears that the gender of the disabled rider could have also influenced these fears, as two of the three women involved noted how they would avoid riding certain skate spaces due to the fear of being harassed or interrogated by others near the space. These fears are warranted, as not only are disabled people more likely to experience violence than able-bodied individuals (Goodley, 2016; Hughes et al., 2011), but disabled women are at an even higher risk of being exposed to different forms of violence and abuse when compared to able-bodied men and women (Meyer et al., 2022). These concerns expressed by women riders of the study illustrates how the intersecting factors of disability and gender may have influenced their assessment of risk in certain spaces and at once, influenced their decision to not engage with certain skate spaces. Finally, discussions with the participants illustrated how many disabled riders felt that the role and responsibility of creating more inclusive and accessible skateparks for disabled riders and other park users should start with the companies involved in the planning, design, and development of skateparks. Some disabled riders believed skatepark design and construction companies are being more proactive about implementing accessible features within their designs, while others 188 vehemently disagreed, and noted how little to no effort is being made by these companies to make skate spaces accessible to different users. According to a few participants, one such reason little to no effort has been made by skatepark planning and design companies could be because of an inherent able-bodied bias, and the assumption that only able-bodied users will engage with these spaces. According to participants, these underlying ableist assumptions could be one of the reasons why little to no effort has been made by companies to make skateparks more accessible and inclusive to different users, including disabled riders (Goodley, 2014; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Wolbring, 2012). With this point in mind, it would make sense, and seem beneficial for skatepark planning and design companies to include the voices and opinions of disabled people and disabled riders throughout the entire design process of a new skate space. However, as WCMX rider, Darryl, detailed, even though he was involved in the design process and used as an accessibility consultant, most of his suggestions were either dismissed or not accounted for in the final design and only by happenstance was he able to get some of his recommendations implemented within the final design of the skatepark. Exploring Darryl’s experiences through a CDS perspective not only illustrates how he encountered ableism at a personal level, but also at a structural level through the implementation of inaccessible designs and features within the final design of the space (Brittain et al., 2020; Goodley et al., 2012, 2017). 6.7 Conclusion This chapter explored disabled riders’ experiences with and within different material skate spaces, and addressed RQ#5: “How do disabled riders engage with, navigate, and access material skate spaces?” Using a CDS perspective and drawing upon posthumanists ideas and the analytical framework of intersectionality, this chapter highlighted how disabled riders engaged with different material skate spaces for variety of different reasons. These reasons were diverse in nature, but 189 were often influenced by larger social, cultural, structural, and economic factors. Though disabled riders encountered issues of access and accessibility when engaging with certain skate spaces and skateparks, many of them noted how advocating for and implementing completely accessible skateparks was not needed, nor desired. Participants noted how creating accessible skateparks for all users would not only be difficult to implement, but discussed how they enjoyed the process of “interpreting” and “figuring out” how to engage with different spaces and features in ways that that worked for them, their skillset, and their riding styles. For some riders, figuring out and accessing different skate spaces and features entailed using assistive technologies to help support their engagements with and navigations of certain spaces. Other riders employed more creative measures and used everyday items and DIY-AT to help them access, navigate, and engage with different spaces and features. These experiences with different skate spaces led many disabled riders to argue that rather than advocating for the development of completely accessible skateparks, skatepark planning and design companies should focus on making small, yet meaningful adaptations to their designs that keep the integrity of the space (and the challenges of different obstacles and features), while also creating a more inclusive environment for different users. One way that skatepark planning and design companies could account for these spatial modifications within their designs would be by including and consulting with disabled people and disabled riders through the entire planning and design process of new skate spaces. Including the ideas, perspective, experiences, and expertise of these individuals may not only highlight different ways that the space and its features can be made more accessible to disabled riders of differing abilities but may illuminate ways to make the space and amenities within (or nearby) it more accessible to disabled people who may also engage with the space. 190 Chapter 7: Conclusion 7.1 Introduction The final chapter of this dissertation provides a summary of key findings from the study. Following this synopsis, I discuss the substantive, methodological, and theoretical implications of this work. I then outline some of the limitations of the study and make several recommendations about what future research could explore and conclude this chapter by providing closing remarks. 7.2 Summary of Key Findings This dissertation project was designed to explore physically disabled skateboarders’ and WCMX riders’ engagements with and experiences in three separate, yet related skate spaces: (sub)cultural spaces, digital spaces, and material spaces. Using (digital) qualitative methods and situating this work in CDS and drawing on key ideas and assumptions from posthumanism and intersectionality this study examined five research questions. Findings from Chapter 4 illustrated how disabled riders got involved in adaptive skateboard and WCMX for a myriad of reasons and demonstrated that, in general, disabled riders expressed overall positive experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Moreover, findings from this chapter highlighted how participation in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX may provide physically disabled riders with a range of health benefits, including improved mental and physical health and can enhance one’s self-confidence, independence, sense of belonging and community and can provide disabled people with new friendships and expanded social networks. Findings also highlighted how disabled riders were able to use skateboarding and WCMX and their participation in the activities to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions about disability and the stigma attached to skateboarding more generally. Despite these reported benefits, findings also highlighted how social, political, and economic factors may influence disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences within the 191 skateboarding (sub)culture. For instance, findings illustrated how disabled women riders felt like they did not receive the same recognition, support, or opportunities that disabled men received from sponsors, skateboarding organizations, and the wider action sport industry more generally. Disabled women riders discussed how increased funding and sponsorship opportunities, increased visibility (through media coverage), and the appointment of women into leadership roles within the skateboarding (sub)culture (i.e., judges, board members, sport ambassadors) may be one way to create more opportunities for disabled girls and women wanting to participate in adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and could help serve those already involved. Findings also illuminated how economic barriers may influence disabled riders’ engagements with adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. While economic constraints were present for disabled skateboarders, economic barriers were particularly common among WCMX riders who noted how custom WCMX chairs can range anywhere between $6000 and $15000 CAN. These costs, in most cases, were not covered by insurance and meant that the rider had to either pay out-of-pocket or had to rely on crowdfunding for financial support to acquire the appropriate equipment needed to participate in WCMX. Situating these findings in CDS not only debunks the idea that skateboarding is a relatively cheap sport, but illuminates how social, political, and economic factors can influence disabled riders’ participation in and experiences within these adaptive action sports. Chapter 5 explored disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences on the popular social media platform, Instagram. Though having an Instagram account was not a stipulation to participate in the study, all participants had an Instagram account. In fact, for 27 of the 30 participants, Instagram was their “most used” social media platform. Disabled riders noted that they preferred Instagram over other social media platforms because of its focus on visual content (videos and photographs) and because of the built-in accessibility on it. This was particularly true 192 for visually impaired riders, who noted how the built-in alt-text feature (which describes the appearance or function of an image) made the platform easier to access and navigate, especially when compared to other social media platforms. Disabled riders detailed how they used Instagram as a site and resource to connect with and learn from other disabled riders and disabled people and noted how they used the platform and other users’ posts to learn new tricks and skills to enhance their own riding performances. For others, Instagram allowed disabled riders to connect with other disabled people and was used as space where they were not only able to connect with other disabled people but provided a space for them ask and answer questions related to disability, sport, access, and equipment. Relatedly, disabled riders outlined how they used Instagram as an awareness tool to help inform and educate other users on topics related to adaptive skateboarding, WCMX, and disability more generally. Others outlined how they used Instagram and their posts on the platform as a tool to create disability visibility and to create greater visibility and awareness of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. This visibility, according to some, resulted in economic opportunities, with several disabled riders noted how they used Instagram and their online performances to promote and secure sponsors. These online performances, according to the participants, not only provided them with social capital, but for many, also resulted in economic opportunities and economic capital. Though most participants expressed positive experiences on Instagram, some disabled riders discussed challenges that they had encountered when engaging with and on the platform. Some participants noted how the platform could be time-consuming and appeared to be particularly true for those riders who had sponsorship deals and were required to post on the platform a certain number of times to fulfil their sponsorship quotas. While these performances were seemingly easy for some, for others this process and the pressure to produce (daily) likeable, 193 positive, and uplifting, marketable content on the platform appeared to impact their overall mental health and wellbeing, and for some, brought on heightened levels of stress and anxiety. In addition, conversations with a few participants detailed how they had encountered negative (disablist) interactions and comments from other users on the platform who would either draw attention to or question the legitimacy of the rider’s impairment due to their online performances. While such disablist comments were limited and often “brushed off” by the riders, some participants outlined how these comments seemed to affect their self-confidence, self-esteem, and perceptions of self. In addition to exploring disabled riders’ engagements with Instagram, this chapter investigated disabled riders’ portrayals on the platform and the types of messages conveyed through their curated online posts. Findings illustrated how many disabled riders elected to create posts that showcased their skills and progress as disabled riders. According to participants, the creation of such posts were used for two reasons: 1) to demonstrate their (sub)cultural identities as adaptive skateboarders and WCMX riders and 2) to challenge negative perceptions and assumptions about disability. Other disabled riders elected to create and share posts that contained visual imagery (photos and videos) of them in action, engaging in risk-taking behaviours or with risky environments. The creation and dissemination of posts highlighting risk-taking portrayals were not only used to reaffirm their (sub)cultural affiliations and identities, but again, were used to challenge negative stereotypes and perceptions of disability. For other riders, their posts and online performances on Instagram were used to motivate and inspire others. These posts, according to participants, were directed at both disabled and able-bodied individuals and were meant to motivate and inspire individuals to get involved in sport and physical activity more generally. Other riders opted to share posts that portrayed ideas of community, mentorship, and support. These posts often contained stories, images, and videos of meaningful people from the disability, 194 skateboarding, and adaptive action sport communities, and in many cases, were created to illustrate their appreciation to the communities they were involved in and to the community members that had supported them. In Chapter 6 attention was drawn towards exploring disabled riders’ engagements with, navigations of, and experiences within different material skate spaces. Findings from this chapter detailed how disabled riders elected to ride and engage with a variety of different material spaces for a variety of different reasons, and illustrated how they would make most skate spots and features work for them, their skillset, and riding styles. In fact, most disabled riders noted how the “hunt” for features to ride and figuring out how to ride certain spaces or features was one of their favourite aspects of the sport. This process, according to participants, not only required certain levels of skill but required creativity and ingenuity from the rider. This ingenuity for some disabled riders meant using DIY practices, adaptive tools, and assistive technologies to help them engage with and access certain spaces or features. For instance, visually impaired riders noted how they would use duct tape, rope, everyday household items, and assistive technologies like beeperboxes to help them navigate and access certain areas and features within a space. Other riders noted how they would made DIY-modifications to their equipment to enhance their riding performances. For instance, WCMX riders, outlined how they would replace their wheelchair caster wheels with skateboard wheels. This small, yet significant modification, according to WCMX riders, provided them with greater speed, mobility, and stability—especially when riding ramps and other vertical spaces. These various DIY practices, adaptive tools and assistive technologies, according to participants, purportedly improved their mobility and provided many with greater independence and access to different skate spaces and features. 195 Although disabled riders noted how they would engage with most spaces and make most features work for them, their skillsets, and riding styles, participants outlined different ways that skateparks could be made more accessible, inclusive, and welcoming for different users, including disabled riders. For instance, visually impaired skateboarders noted how having longer ledges and rails and wider staircases and manual pads may make certain features more accessible to them and their riding styles. In addition, visually impaired skateboarders noted how including tactile notches in the coping, ledges, and rails within skateparks may make these features more accessible to them and their riding styles. Discussions with others highlighted how greater colour contrast between different sections and transitions in skateparks could make these spaces more inclusive and accessible to low vison and visually impaired skateboarders. Including greater colour contrast throughout a skatepark and different sections of it, could not only make the space more aesthetically pleasing for able-bodied users, but could make the space more accessible for visually impaired and low vison skateboarders. For WCMX riders, accessibility within skateparks meant being able to access all levels within the space and to have access in and out of all features within it. According to WCMX riders, access on to and in-and-out of different spaces in a skatepark would not only allow them greater mobility within these spaces, but would allow them greater independence, as they would not have to rely on other park users to assist them to and from and in and out of different features within the skatepark. Alongside these findings, disabled riders identified a range of barriers that seemed to influence and, in some cases, inhibit their engagements with and within certain material skate spaces. Visually impaired skateboarders, for instance, noted how they would actively avoid loud and busy skateparks and explained how these spaces were difficult to navigate and brought up heightened levels of anxiety due to their inability to hear to get visual cues in the space. Other 196 disabled riders detailed how the fear of injury and previous negative experiences with certain features or obstacles were reason enough for them to avoid certain skate spaces or features. For others, it was not necessarily a fear of injury, but rather a fear of certain spaces due to concerns over their own safety and wellbeing within the space. Some participants, for instance, noted how they actively avoided riding certain skate spaces and skateparks located in “rougher” areas due to fears of being harassed, confronted by, or attacked by citizens such as those located in a nearby homeless encampment. Such experiences appeared to be gendered, in that two of the three women involved raised concerns over their safety within certain skate spaces, while no men discussed their avoidance of skate spaces due to concerns over their safety and wellbeing within a space. Finally, findings from this chapter highlighted how the lack of nearby skateparks and accessible transit to skateparks meant that many disabled riders either had to travel great distances to ride or had to rely on friends or rideshare companies to access and ride certain spaces. Such findings not only highlight how the location of a skatepark matters, but also illustrates how underlying financial costs associated with travel to and from these sporting spaces can influence disabled riders’ engagements with certain skate spaces. For other disabled riders, it was not necessarily the location of the skatepark that hindered their participation with the space, but was, rather, the fact that the space itself lacked accessible amenities and pathways to and from the space. According to participants, the lack of accessible pathways to and from skateparks as well as accessible water fountains, washrooms, and rest areas was reason enough for them to choose not to engage with certain skateparks. These experiences led several participants to argue that skatepark planners and designers have a responsibility to make sure that skateparks are accessible and have accessible amenities on site, not only for disabled park users, but for disabled friends, family, and the public who want to use this space as well. With these ideas in mind, participants 197 highlighted the importance of including different user groups, like disabled people and disabled riders, throughout the entire planning, design, and construction process of a new skatepark. According to participants, doing so would ensure that different user groups’ needs are listened to and accounted for and, importantly, implemented within the final design of the build-environment. 7.3 Research Contributions This dissertation project makes several substantive, methodological, and theoretical scholarly contributions. One substantive contribution of this work relates to the empirically based findings on physically disabled peoples’ engagements with and experiences within sport and, more specifically, action sport settings. Findings from this study contribute to an already well-established body of scholarship that has explored action sports and skateboarding through a sociocultural perspective and adds to the growing body of scholarship that has explored marginalized community members’ experiences within action sport settings. Situating this work in CDS and using key ideas and assumptions from posthumanism and intersectionality, this study provided novel insight on the potential benefits of action sports, like skateboarding and WCMX, on the health and wellbeing of physically disabled people and illustrated how participation in these sports can be used to challenge ableist ideas and assumptions. At the same time, however, findings from this study also illustrated how larger social, cultural, economic, and structural forces can influence disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences within skateboarding’s wider (sub)culture. In identifying these larger forces and the ways in which they both enabled and constrained disabled peoples’ movement practices and engagements with and experiences within different skateboarding spaces, it is my hope that findings from this work can be used to make different (sub)culture, digital, and material skate spaces more inclusive for different users, including physically disabled people. 198 This work also makes important contributions to disability sport literature and, at once, adds to the nascent body of research that has examined physically disabled peoples’ experiences with adaptive action sports from a sociocultural perspective. These findings may be of relevance to those involved in (disability) sport organizations and highlights the potential benefits of offering adaptive action sport options and leisure pursuits for physically disabled people. As Smith and Sparkes (2019) note, one issue with disability sport programs and organizations is their overemphasis on competition and the development of elite-level disability sport athletes. While having the option to pursue elite-level disability sport is important, it is also vital to recognize that not all disabled people want to pursue, nor enjoy competitive, elite-level sport and may favour more informal, individualized, non-competitive sporting practices like adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Based off these findings, it may be of value for (disability) sport programs and organizations to consider creating opportunities and pathways for physically disabled people to participate in informal, adaptive action sports, and to expand upon their current offerings to include more informal sporting pursuits. Work from this dissertation also contributes to research that has examined marginalized action sport participants’ engagements with and experiences on Instagram. Findings illustrated how Instagram was both accessible and easy to navigate and allowed disabled riders the opportunity to connect with, educate, and inform other users on topics related to disability, adaptive skateboarding, and WCMX. Findings also demonstrated how disabled riders used their self-produced portrayals on Instagram in ways that allowed them to challenge negative stereotypes and perceptions about disability, and at once, empower and inspire other disabled individuals to get involved in sport and physical activity. While many riders reported that they were inspired by such depictions, findings also highlighted how some felt compelled to only post positive and 199 uplifting content to the platform, which, according to some, appeared to affect their mental health and wellbeing. Such paradoxical findings highlight the complexities of self-produced media on social media and leave room for future research to draw closer attention to the ways in which self-representations on social media may influence the self-perceptions, confidence, and mental health of different sporting participants. This work not only makes substantive contributions to previous studies that have explored the intersections of skateboarding and space but offers the potential to help inform and shape the practices and planning strategies of skatepark designers and constructions companies when (re)designing new and existing skateparks. Findings from this study highlight the importance of involving disabled people throughout the entire planning, design, and construction of skateparks and highlights ways that skateparks and the features within them can be made more accessible to different park users, including physically disabled riders. Relatedly, findings highlight the different strategies used by disabled riders to sway the design process of new skateparks in efforts to make these spaces more accessible and demonstrates how disabled riders were able to cultivate social change through their involvement in the planning and design process of new skate spaces. Methodologically, this study adds to the growing body of research that has explored action sports and disability sport using qualitative research methods. Using a qualitative approach in this work allowed me the opportunity to build upon and provided further nuance to findings produced through earlier quantitative, survey-based studies, and provided me the opportunity to dig deeper in efforts to learn more about the ways in which disabled sport participants’ everyday practices and engagements with adaptive skateboarding and WCMX were shaped by larger social, political, economic, and structural forces. For instance, while the basic demographic questionnaire used in this study was able to generate valuable baseline information about the participants, interviews 200 and social media post-elicitation were used to further unpack the participants’ responses in efforts to account for and explore the extent to which different factors, like age, gender, impairment-type, and riding style may have influence their experiences in different skate spaces. This study also makes methodological contributions to the bourgeoning body of research that has used digital qualitative methods to examine topics related to sport, physical activity, leisure,. Though using digital qualitative methods to explore these topics is not necessarily new, Goodyear and Bundon (2021) note how the development and proliferation of digital technologies has allowed researchers new tools and opportunities to explore the lives and experiences of different people and communities. With these points in mind and guided by the work of Toll and Norman (2021), I used the method of social media post-elicitation within this research project and invited participants to select, share, and discuss post(s) from their Instagram accounts in efforts to answer related research questions. Employing this method in this work allowed me the opportunity to not only explore the visual content of the participants’ posts, but also allowed me the opportunity to move beyond the visual representations of the post to explore other aspects of it including the captions, hashtags, and geo-tags used in it. In drawing attention to these other facets of data, I was able to spark up new and detailed conversations with the participants and was able to gain greater insight into the lives, lived experiences, and social worlds of the disabled riders. For instance, a participant shared a post that depicted himself performing a difficult trick on his skateboard. He expressed his pride in performing such a sophisticated maneuver and explained how empowering the post was to him. However, the post also included a melancholy song that played in the background. I asked the participant to tell me about the song and why he chose it. Drawing attention to this facet of the post led to the participant describing how the song reflected his mental health struggles at the time and the importance of having skateboarding in his life when he created 201 the post. This simple, yet effective query not only helped spark up new conversation but helped provide me with greater insight into the participant’s social world and lived experiences as a physically disabled rider. Use of this digital tool within this study highlights both the power and potential of using social media platforms and social posts as sites of data to learn more about different people, their social worlds, and the communities in which they engage with. Finally, this work makes several theoretical contributions. Primarily, this work adds to the nascent body of scholarship that has used CDS to examine the topic of disability in sport, exercise, and leisure settings. This study builds on previous CDS work to highlight how sociopolitical constructions of disability shape and impact the lives and experiences of disabled people, and in this case, disabled riders and their participation with and within different sporting spaces. As Smith and Bundon (2018) outline, CDS starts with disability, but rarely ends with it, and note how researchers using CDS to explore disability can create a space to “think through a host of political, theoretical, and practical issues that are relevant to all” (p. 27). Yet, to do this, researchers situating their work in CDS must be open to using eclectic theories and new lines of critical enquiry in their work (Smith & Bundon, 2018). Following this suggestion, I borrowed key ideas and theories from posthumanism and the analytical framework of intersectionality to help theorize the dataset. Using posthumanism in this work opened up space for me to examine and explore what it means to be human, and to question the concept of the human in light of current cultural, social, political, and historical contexts (Wolfe, 2010). As Nayar (2013) suggests, posthumanism decentres the placement of humans above other forms of life and rejects the view that humans are autonomous and fully defined individuals. Instead, Nayar and others argue that the human itself, is an “assemblage, co-evolving with other forms of life, enmeshed with the environment and technology” (p. 13). With these ideas in mind, in this work, I used key ideas from posthumanism 202 to highlight and theorize the different ways in which technologies may influence the corporeal movement practices, performances, and engagements of disabled riders. Use of the theory in this work adds to the growing body of scholarship that has used posthumanism and CDS to explore the topic of disability, and adds to the small, yet nascent body of work that has explored the relationship between sport, bodies, technology, and disability through posthumanist philosophies. More specifically, this work adds to and expands on conversations about the relationship between humans and non-humans, and how machines and technologies may influence the disabled body and its corporeal engagements. In addition to drawing upon posthumanist ideas, I used an intersectional lens in this work to explore how interlocking systems of oppression influenced disabled riders’ everyday lives and experiences. More specifically, intersectionality was used in this work to better understand how invisible power relations (i.e., gender, age) interacted with one another to create distinct experiences and outcomes for disabled riders. Use of the theory not only provided theoretical and analytical nuance to the dataset but helped me situate myself and my positionality within it as well. 7.4 Limitations and Future Directions Although participants of the study were diverse in terms in nationality and impairment types, the sample was predominately composed of men—with only three women participating in the study. Though discussions with these women were rich and insightful, these conversations only provided a small glimpse into the lives and lived experiences of disabled women riders within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Therefore, in my view, it would be of great value for future studies to draw greater research attention to girls and women’s experiences with adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and other adaptive action sport settings. Such investigations would not only build upon the work produced in this study but would provide greater insight into the ways in which 203 intersecting factors like, race, impairment type, and age may influence disabled girls and women’s engagements with and experiences within different adaptive action sports. Relatedly, while racial and ethnic information was obtained from the participants, discussions and analytical attention to race were limited. In part, this could be due to the study’s focus on disability, and how the participants’ disabled identities influenced their experiences within different skate spaces. However, it is also very likely that discussions of race were limited due to the fact that I did little probing around matters of race and ethnicity and only discussed race with the participants when they brought it up in conversation. Lack of discussions about race with the participants was a clear omission on my end and an aspect I wish I would have addressed more directly with the participants. This oversight was more than likely a reflection of my own positionality as a white, able-bodied scholar—which, by all accounts, seemed to have influenced the types of questions I asked, how I interacted with the participants, and as I discuss below, how I analyzed the dataset. Lack of attentiveness to the racial and ethnic identities of the participants was most likely one of the reasons why my engagements with the analytical framework of intersectionality were not fully realized or utilized in this work. Taking an intersectional approach in this work was always my intention, and in large part, stemmed from my chosen methodology (CDS) and its demand for intersectional analysis and attentiveness to how different social and political markers can result in unique combinations of discrimination and privilege (Slater, 2015). I also saw value in using this analytical framework to help account for how my positionality (and social and political identities) shaped the entire research process, including the collection of data, data analysis, and the writing up of findings. Despite these intentions, my use of intersectionality was limited in this work. This is not to say that engagements with this analytical framework were absent. In fact, there are several areas in this work where intersectional analysis is quite evident, 204 including analysis of the ways in which gender and socioeconomic status seemed to intersect and influence disabled riders’ participation in different skate spaces, and was also used and accounted for in my reflexive accounts (and reflexive fieldnotes) where I discussed how my intersecting identities influenced different aspects of the research process. However, as alluded to in the paragraph before this, reasons why this analytical framework was perhaps not fully realized and utilized in this work could be because of my positionality, particularly as a white skateboarder and researcher. As scholars have noted, race is vital to theories of intersectionality (Gillborn, 2015). This most likely stems from my lack of attentiveness to ideas and discussions of race during the interview process, likely a result of my own racial identity as a white man. Researchers studying skateboarding have highlighted how race and particularly whiteness is deeply ingrained in the skateboarding (sub)culture and can shape and influence how people (do not) participate in different skate spaces (Brayton, 2005; Chivers Yochim, 2010; Kusz, 2007). However, attention to whiteness was not fully addressed or analyzed in this work, despite it likely being a significant marker of both my identity and many of the disabled riders’ sporting identities. It is likely that whiteness and race shaped my experiences with the participants and the ways I analyzed the dataset, but importantly, also likely influenced the disabled riders’ experiences in different (sub)cultural, digital, and material skate spaces. Greater analytical attention to the ways in which race, and in particular, whiteness and disability intersect and influence’ disabled riders’ participation in different spaces would have strengthened my theoretical engagements, and at once, added greater depth and nuance to the findings of this work. Therefore, future research should consider conducting more in-depth intersectional analysis of adaptive skateboarders and WCMX that account for and explore the extent to which race may influence their participation in the sports. 205 Like intersectionality, my use of, and engagements with posthumanism and posthumanist philosophies in this work were limited and were perhaps not fully explored and utilized in this study. While there were aspects of my analysis that explored the connectedness between bodies, technologies, and the corporeal movement practices or disabled riders, there were some sections where these theoretical connections were less developed and a bit empty. Originally, I was intrigued with this perspective because of its attentiveness to the ways non-human actors, like technology can (and do) influence the corporeal practices and realities of humans in today’s world. However, my hyperfocus on the relationship between technologies and humans, and particularly disabled riders’ use of and engagements with technologies to enhance their riding performances was perhaps a bit limiting, as this fixation meant that other factors, like the influence of nature and the environment on disabled riders’ performances was overlooked and not fully analyzed. As posthumanist scholar, Pramod Nayar (2013) outlines, humans today can largely be understood as “assemblages” (p. 13) that are constantly in flux and evolving with other forms of life and are enmeshed in and influenced by technology and the environment. Focusing on the latter point, one aspect of posthumanism that was not fully considered or engaged with in this work was attention to how non-human actors like the environment and nature influence humans, their bodies, and their corporeality. Drawing greater attention to the ways in which the environment and nature may have influenced disabled riders’ corporeal movement practices could have allowed for a more robust engagement with posthumanist ideas and philosophies and could have provided greater context and nuance to findings of the study. With these points in mind, future disability research wanting to engage with posthumanist ideas and philosophies may want to consider how both technologies and nature can coalesce and influence the corporeal movement practices of disabled people and disabled athletes in different milieus including sporting spaces. 206 Though efforts were made to recruit participants using different approaches (X, and online posters), all participants were recruited through Instagram. As such, it should come as little surprise that most participants favoured Instagram over other social media platforms and were avid users on the platform. This recruitment technique may also partially explain the homogeneity of the participants, and the implications of relying on algorithms to recruit participants. For instance, the majority of the participants were experienced male riders. In fact, 11 of the participants had noted how they were sponsored at the time of the study, and over half the participants (n= 17) had indicated that they had competed at the X Games or Dew Tour, or at a national or international WCMX or adaptive skateboarding competition. This information illustrates that while I was able to speak with many everyday disabled riders, a large proportion of the participants could also be considered high-level athletes based on the competitions they attended, the sponsorship deals they had, and online followings they had at the time of the study. Though the aims of this study were intended to explore the everyday experiences of disabled riders more generally, I recognize that including high-level athletes with everyday disabled riders very likely influenced the findings. Therefore, moving forward, I would suggest that those exploring adaptive skateboarding and WCMX should consider distinguishing the different experience levels of the riders in their work in efforts to produced nuanced findings pertinent to the different riding levels of the participants. While this study focused exclusively on Instagram, in recent years other social media platforms, like TikTok, have surged in popularity and become a prominent social media outlet for different user groups, including disabled people and action sport participants. Therefore, future research may want to consider exploring (adaptive) action sport participants’ engagements with and experiences on TikTok. Based on findings from this study, I would encourage future research to consider exploring how different user groups engage with the platform and to investigate how 207 certain bodies, actions, and accounts are policed and regulated on it. In similar vein, future research may want to endeavour to explore the comment sections of posts on Instagram and/or TikTok. Though Instagram posts were explored within this work, due to time constraints and the aims of the study, the comment sections of posts were not analyzed. Such undertaking may provide valuable information about public perceptions and attitudes towards different user groups and would provide greater nuance and understandings to some of the findings produced in this work. Guided by findings produced in this study, future research should also consider drawing greater attention to the extent to which skatepark designer and construction companies are accounting for different park users, like disabled riders and disabled people, within the planning and design process of new skatepark facilities and amenities. Such work could explore how and if these companies are accounting for the accessibility of different user groups within their designs and could provide pragmatic findings that could be put into action to improve the experiences of different user groups within these built spaces. Relatedly, future research may also want to explore the extent to which disability acts like ADA and ACA have influenced skatepark design and construction companies’ practices and planning processes when designing skate spaces. Studies may also want to explore to what extent, local, national, and international (disability) sporting organizations are creating opportunities and pathways for disabled people and disabled children to get involved in action sports, like adaptive skateboarding and WCMX. Moreover, research may also want to consider exploring disabled riders’ engagements with and experiences at action sport mega events, like the Dew Tour and X Games. Studies on disabled riders’ experiences at these events could provide valuable information about the potential benefits and challenges of these events for disabled riders and could deliver useful information to those advocating for the inclusion of adaptive skateboarding and WCMX to the Paralympic Games. 208 These suggestions outlined above, of course, are just a few potential areas of inquiry that future research could explore. However, in general, more research from a range of different disciplines is needed to better understand the potential benefits and barriers of participating in adaptive action sports like skateboarding and WCMX for disabled people. Therefore, I call upon future researcher to continue to conduct empirical studies on adaptive skateboarding and WCMX and disabled riders’ experiences with and within these sporting (sub)cultures and encourage future work to continue to explore disabled peoples’ engagements with and experiences within different adaptive action sports, like adaptive surfing and adaptive rock climbing. 7.5 Final Thoughts I was recently asked by a family member to tell them the “Coles notes” of this dissertation project. Having answered this similar question hundreds of times, I replied with a scripted-like response outlining how the project explored physically disabled peoples’ skateboarders and WCMX riders’ experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. To which the family member responded, “I know that Nik but what’s the ‘take away message of your work?’” Admittedly, I was a little caught off guard with their response. Typically, people would either nod their head, make a small comment, like “interesting” or “that’s cool” and the conversation would fizzle out, but this question got me to wonder, “what is the takeaway message from this work?” For me, one of the key takeaway messages of this work would be that adaptive action sports, like skateboarding and WCMX, can offer physically disabled people a variety of social, physical, and mental health benefits. Yet, more than this, another key takeaway from this work, is the certainty that physically disabled people have and will continue to gravitate towards and participate in adaptive skateboarding, WCMX, and other adaptative action sports in years to come. Therefore, as more physically disabled people inevitably take up these sports, it is important that those within the 209 skateboarding industry, those involved in skatepark planning and design, and those involved with (disability) sport organizations not only account for physically disabled participants, but actively carve out space and opportunities for them to get involved. This is key in the sense that, although disabled riders expressed overall positive experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture, this research also highlighted how larger social, political, economic, and structural factors influenced the riders’ engagements with and experiences within the skateboarding (sub)culture. Thus, this onus to make action sport (sub)cultures and its spaces more accepting and welcoming to physically disabled people cannot be solely placed on the sporting organizations governing the development of these sports but needs to come from participants of these sporting (sub)cultures as well. 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Assistive technology. https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/assistive-technology X Games. (2019, December 5). Jon Comer, pioneer of adaptive skateboarding, dies at age 43. X-Games. http://www.xgames.com/skateboarding/article/28232279/jon-comer-pioneer-adaptive-skateboarding-dies-age-43 Yoon, L. (2019). Mount Gariwang: An Olympic casualty. (DOI: 10.14288/1.0378394). [Doctoral dissertation, University of British Columbia]). URI: http://hdl.handle.net/2429/69863 237 Appendices 238 Appendix A: Digital Research Recruitment Poster 239 Appendix B: Letter of Introduction A Sociological Exploration of Adaptive Skateboarding and Skateboarders with a Disability WHAT IS THIS RESEARCH ABOUT? We are interested in learning about people with disabilities and skateboarders with disabilities experiences within skateboarding’s larger subculture. WHO IS DOING THE RESEARCH? The principal investigator for this project is Dr. Andrea Bundon an Assistant Professor in the School of Kinesiology at the University of British Columbia. The Co-Investigator, and primary contact, Nikolaus Dean, is a 3rd year PhD student in the School of Kinesiology at the University of British Columbia working under the supervision of Dr. Bundon. WHAT WILL PARTICIPATING IN THE STUDY INVOLVE? If you agree to participate, you will be invited to take part in one online interview (conducted in English) with the primary contact, and Co-Investigator (Nikolaus Dean). If you agree to participate in the interview, the Co-Investigator (Nikolaus Dean) will ask you to sign and date a participant consent form before the interview takes place. You will be given a copy of this participant consent form for your records. In addition, using Instagram, you will be asked to share and discuss a few images (1-5) of you (or others) skateboarding throughout the interview process. The interview is expected to last between 60 and 120 minutes. With your permission, the interview will be recorded and transcribed (written out word-for-word) by the Co-Investigator. You do not need to talk about or share any content (including photographs) you do not feel comfortable discussing/sharing and you may withdraw from the study at any time without having to give a reason. WILL MY PARTICIPATION BE KEPT ANONYMOUS? The decision is up to you. If you request it, any information you provide within this interview will be made anonymous. You will be identified by a pseudonym of your choosing (fake name) and identifying information will be removed. Alternatively, you may request that your real name (full name or first name only) be used during the research and in subsequent research outputs. The research team acknowledges that some individuals may have public profiles that make it difficult, if not impossible, to make their responses anonymous. Equally, some participants may want to be acknowledged for their contributions to this work. WHAT WILL BE DONE WITH THE INFORMATION I PROVIDE? All interview transcripts will be kept in a locked cabinet in the office of the Principal Investigator (Dr. Bundon) and no one other than the researchers associated with this study will have access to this information. The information collected will be used for the Co-Investigator’s (Nikolaus Dean) PhD dissertation project. Data may also be used for publication in scholarly journals and/or presented at academic conferences. If you would like more information about the study or to learn how to participate, please contact the primary contact (myself) Nikolaus Dean. Principal Investigator Co-Investigator (Primary Contact) Dr. Andrea Bundon Nikolaus Dean Assistant Professor PhD Student School of Kinesiology School of Kinesiology The University of British Columbia (Vancouver) The University of British Columbia (Vancouver) 240 Appendix C: Consent Form A Sociological Exploration of Adaptive Skateboarding and Skateboarders with a Disability R RESEARCH OBJECTIVE: We are interested in learning about people with disabilities and skateboarders with a disability’s experiences within skateboarding’s larger subculture. These interviews are meant to provide us with detailed information not only about the lived experiences of these individuals within skateboarding’s larger subculture but provides us with the opportunity to learn more about the growing action sport of adaptive skateboarding. STUDY PROCEDURES: You will be interviewed once online over Zoom or Teams, at a date and time of your choosing by Co-Investigator and PhD student, Nikolaus Dean. Prior to the interview, you will be asked to complete a small basic demographic questionnaire to help guide the interview. The interview will take approximately one hour. With your permission, we will digitally record the interview so that we can concentrate on what you have to say rather than on taking notes. During the interview, you will be invited to share and discuss a few images (from Instagram) of you and/or others skateboarding. With your permission (and if applicable, the permission of others featured in the images), these images may be used alongside the interview transcripts as data. A summary report will be provided by email to all study participants and selections of the data will be used for Nikolaus Dean’s PhD dissertation, as well as academic publications, reports, and presentations. ANONYMITY AND CONFIDENTIALITY: You have the option of how you would like to be identified during the research project and in any research outputs (publications, reports, conference presentations, etc.). You can either select a pseudonym (fake name) or choose to use your own name (full name or first name only)—please indicate your choice on this form. Only the research team will have access to the encrypted and password protected digital audio recordings and study documents. If you decide to share photographs (from Instagram) throughout the interview process, but would like to anonymize your identity, others’ identities, or the space; the photo will be edited and blurred to conceal these identifiable points. This information (transcripts and photographs) will be stored in a locked filing cabinet and on a password protected computer. The information you provide will only be used for Co-Investigator, Nikolaus Dean’s, PhD dissertation research project, conference presentations, research reports, and research publications. In all cases, your contributions will be identified using only the name you have selected (pseudonym or real name). The encrypted and password protected data will be stored for a minimum of five years after publication. After being kept for five years, study documents will be shredded, and digital audio recordings deleted. Principal Investigator Co-Investigator (Primary Contact) Dr. Andrea Bundon Nikolaus Dean Assistant Professor PhD Student School of Kinesiology School of Kinesiology The University of British Columbia (Vancouver) The University of British Columbia (Vancouver) 241 REMUNERATION: No remuneration is being offered to participants. YOUR RIGHTS: Your participation in the study is entirely voluntary. You may refuse to answer any question or withdraw from the study at any time without giving a reason and without penalty. If you decide to withdraw from the study at any time, the information you provide will be destroyed and deleted (study documents and digital audio recordings). WHO TO CONTACT IF YOU HAVE CONCERNS ABOUT THE STUDY? If you have any concerns or complaints about your rights as a research participant and/or your experiences while participating in this study, contact the Research Participant Complaint Line in the UBC Office of Research Ethics at 604-822-8598 or if long distance email RSIL@ors.ubc.ca or call toll free 1- 877-822-8595. QUESTIONS? If you have any questions or want further information about the study, please contact Primary Investigator, Dr. Andrea Bundon, or Co- Investigator, Nikolaus Dean. FUNDING: This research is supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. CONSENT I have read the above and I consent to being part of this study assessing the current practices, planning and methods being used on past and current skate projects. I consent to having my interviews audio recorded. I understand the data will only be used by the researchers for presentations, research reports, and research publications, and will be destroyed after 5 years. I have received a copy of this consent form for my own records. Printed Name: _________________________________________________________________ Signature: _____________________________________________________________________ Date: _________________________________________________________________________ I request that a pseudonym be used: (please provide ______________________________) or I request that my full name be used: (please provide ______________________________) or I request that my first name only be used: (please provide __________________________) 242 Appendix D: Basic Demographic Questionnaire A Sociological Exploration of Adaptive Skateboarding and Skateboarders with a Disability The following questionnaire will ask you for some background information and will be used for research purposes only. Accurate information is greatly appreciated. However, questions may be left un-answered if you do not feel comfortable providing certain information. All information will be kept strictly anonymous. These questions can also be asked before the interview begins. Name: Date of Birth: (mm/yyyy) Nationality: Gender: What do you consider your ethnicity to be? What is the terminology to best describe your impairment/disability? Number of years skateboarding: What social media platforms do you currently use? (Please provide a list of all) Current Location: What do you consider your race to be? 243 Are you affiliated with any skateboard organizations? (i.e., employee, member, volunteer) What social media platform(s) do you use the most? How often do you use social media platforms a week (Please highlight one:) (Once a month) | (Once a week) | (Daily (15mins to 1hr) | Daily (1hr - 2 hrs) | (+ 2hrs) | Other? 244 Appendix E: Interview Protocol A Sociological Exploration of Adaptive Skateboarding and Skateboarders with a Disability Introduction o Is there anything you would like to ask me before we get started? o Do you give me permission to digitally record this interview? Please note that I will only be using the audio-transcription from this interview. Equally, I may jot down a few notes throughout. o Do you have any questions about how you will be identified and/or how your responses will be used? Research Question 1: What are skaters with disabilities experiences within skateboarding’s larger (sub)culture? 1. Can you tell me about how you got involved in skateboarding/ adaptive skateboarding? 2. How would you describe your skating? (WCMX, Adaptive skater, skater?) -Disability acquired or congenital? 3. Can you tell me about your general experiences within skateboarding and its larger (sub)culture? 4. What does skateboard mean to you? 5. What do you like the most about skateboarding? What do you like the least about skateboarding? 6. If you could change one thing about skateboarding and/or the skateboarding (sub)culture, what would it be? (Why?) 7. What do you think the future of adaptive skateboarding and skateboarding for PWDs is? The following questions represent an overarching agenda for interviews with study participants. The questions will be pursued flexibly and may be altered, added to, and expanded upon over time as different patterns and themes develop. Review ‘best practices’ when using Zoom with the participant: Login using a nickname, substitute name or research code. Turn off camera and mute microphone (if they would like). 245 Research Question 2: How are skaters with disabilities engaging with and using video, photography, and (social) media to portray their skateboarding experiences? 8. What types of skateboarding (social) media do you engage with? Why? (Who do you follow?) 9. Why do you share photos and videos of you skating online (Instagram)? 10. Can you tell me about how you portray yourself on social media? 11. [SMP photo Elicitation] [Insert Image] Can you tell me about this photo/video (why you chose to share this image with me?) o Can you tell me about the space that you are engaging with in the image/video? o How was it responded to? Do/did you have an intended audience when posting images? 12. Did you edit the image any way? (if music, ask about music) 13. What are the pros and cons of sharing images/videos of yourself online (Instagram)? Research Question 3: How are skaters with disabilities engaging with and navigating different skate spaces? 14. Can you tell me about where you skateboard? (Types of space) 15. Are there skate spaces that you prefer? (Why?) 16. Are there skate spaces that you avoid? (Why?) 17. Do you engage in any DIY practices? (Equipment or spatial practices?) 18. Does your skateboard/equipment and or the skate space/obstacles require any modifications for you to engage with? (Explain) 19. To what extent would you say your impairment influences where you skateboard? 20. Describe to me what your dream skate space would be (look like)? (is this possible?) 21. Do you have any closing comments, or would you like to speak about anything else? END: Thank for interview and inquire about other potential participants. Closing: 246 Appendix F: Instagram Post Visual Content (Photo or video) Comment (Comment Section) Post Caption A description that accompanies the visual content of the post (2200-character limit) Likes (Number of ‘Likes’) Username Date (Post Created) Geo-Tag A metadata tag that adds geographical identification to the visual content of the post Audio Audio/Music included in post Tagged Users Comment ‘Like’ Function where the post creator can ‘like’ comments from other users Hashtags A metadata tag that is prefaced by the # symbol. Hashtags are used by users to cross-reference content by topic of theme. 247 Appendix G: Instagram Post Analysis Interviewer: Maybe to start, can you just tell me, you know, why you chose this post? Participant: Yeah. So, this photo is actually a screencap of a video because I've done a couple WCMX photoshoots in the last month, but in general, I never get good photos of me riding. Or, if I am at events, like everybody else will get a ton of photos, and I just don't get photographed. So, I don't have a lot of action shots of me doing that. This particular thing was—this gap was something that I really wanted to do, but I'd never gone off a gap at an angle. So, I was nervous to do it. It was one of those things that I wanted to try, and like I said earlier, my biggest goal at the Dew Tour was to not do something. Like don't be like, “Oh, I'm afraid I'm not going to do it.” So, I ended up going for it and landing it every time and I think that is probably one of the things that got me into third place because nobody else was using that particular feature. So that photo, I like it because I'm literally mid-air, which I don't see very often. It was something that, you know, was intimidating to me and I followed through on it. And then also just in general, the Dew Tour was such an experience and posting about that, like just being there, getting to share with people this it is something that I did was really meaningful to me. CODES Code = Risk Code = Positive Experience Code = Overcome Fears/Push Limits Code = Feature/Obstacle Code = Trick/Manoeuvre/Performance DATA ANALYSIS Step #1: Code Instagram post and interview transcript Step #2: Analyze codes used in both sets of data Step #3: Cluster codes together Step #4: Use clustered codes to develop theme in relation to RQ: How do riders portray themselves on Instagram? Theme = Portrayals of Risk-Taking Behaviours Risk Risk Feature/ Obstacle Trick Performance
Thesis/Dissertation
eng
Kinesiology
Vancouver : University of British Columbia Library
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International
Graduate
Bundon, Andrea
A sociocultural analysis of adaptive skateboarding and wheelchair motocross
Text