Before I ever had some of the best moments of my teenage years and twenties at this skatepark, I had never even heard bands like Bad Religion, NOFX, Flema, 2 Minutos, or Ramones. This place taught me how to do and feel many of the things that still define me as an adult today. One of the clearest examples is that I never truly fit into any social group the way I did inside skateboarding culture. They’re just genuinely good people.
People who value authenticity. People without too many pretensions, but definitely not lacking drive or passion. And honestly, do you know what matters most? That feeling of community. That sensation of belonging somewhere, even if only for a moment, and knowing you’re safe there. Nostalgia is really doing its thing while I write this. Thankfully, this skatepark is still the right place for kids and teenagers who practice this sport and just want peace, friendship, and a sense of community.
People (also) love saying extreme sports are dangerous or irresponsible. And weirdly enough, there are still plenty of social stigmas attached to them, especially in places where society always seems eager to point fingers at anyone living outside the norm. Trust me, I know a little about that. Being a woman who loves skateboarding, graffiti, dirt, sweat, and punk rock isn’t exactly considered attractive everywhere. Maybe in cities like Los Angeles or New York City it would seem cool, but in my city, in my country, it was a very different story.
When I look at these photos, it’s almost impossible not to think about the old days. Some of the crazy things we painted on these walls are still there even now. Almost fifteen years later, they survived. And somehow, they still manage to pull smiles out of me while unlocking memories, songs, bands, and moments I thought were buried somewhere deep inside my head. There’s something beautiful about getting older and realizing you were brave enough to be authentic when it mattered most. Back then, as a teenager, I questioned my own tastes constantly. Now, I’m grateful I defended them.
Maybe all you see are concrete ramps and rails made for skating, but I can’t stop smiling when I’m here. And honestly, I’m sure there are places that do the exact same thing to you. I’m not here to give life lessons or tell anyone how to feel, but from my perspective, skateboarding was one of the most underrated ways my generation built real friendships and genuine connections. Like every urban tribe, the bond came from honesty, shared experiences, and equality. Those ideas are embedded into this skatepark just as deeply as its ramps, graffiti, and cracked concrete. Coming back here and reconnecting with something I once loved so intensely has been genuinely beautiful.