How I use skateboarding to save children from poverty

Once a month, I go to the skatepark and give free lessons to young skaters who seem poor. It's part of how I give back--and giving back is one of my north stars.

Last month, I rolled into Pier 62, one of my usual spots. I didn't expect to change a life.

"Yo, everybody! J-Rock's here!" Crazy K got the whole park's attention. He's a 15 year old I met around this time last year. The first time I saw him skate, he could barely heelflip. Last week, I watched him treflip a ten-stair and ride away clean. We had a beer to celebrate and I told him how proud I was of him.

That tre doesn't happen without my coaching. It's a reminder of why I do what I do.

I did a shove-it into a nose manual and then made my way towards him and the crew. "What up, family?" I asked. I pointed to my new pair of DC Shoes and my boys went nuts.

These kids mean the world to me. I would kill myself for Crazy K, Snake Eyes, War Child, and the rest of the gang. They're all like my sons.

At the end of the day, this is my counter culture.

The gang doesn't know it yet, but I'll be buying them all one month of an Audible subscription this Christmas.

Audible lets you listen to thousands of books anywhere. Whether it's during your commute to work, in your bed, or at the skatepark, Audible helps you level up in the game of life.

I can still remember landing a clean 540 in the park's biggest bowl while listening to the end of Joyce's The Dead. That pairing of adrenaline and reflection doesn't happen without Audible . I want each of the kids at the park to have access to the same feeling.

Thanks, Audible , for sponsoring this post.

"Yo, K," I asked. "It's that time of the month--seen any poor kids who might need a hand?"

"C'mon, J-Rock," War Child piped up. He was rocking a pair of green etnies that I just about stole off his feet. "You're always givin' back--why not take a night off and skate with the boys?"

"Don't go there, War Child!" I popped my board into my hand and took a step toward him. I could feel my brand new pair of DCs crease, but I needed to make a point. "Remember that you wouldn't be skating if it weren't for me 'givin' back.'"

War Child looked at the ground. Crazy K and Snake Eyes stood still, scared to move.

"We good then, War Child?"

"Yes, J-Rock."

"Okay then, family. Show me love."

War Child and I hugged it out.

Long ago, I learned in a monastery never to spare the rod. But that's another story.

"Yo, Rock," Snake Eyes said. "I think I got somebody who could use your help."

I followed Snake Eyes's finger until I was looking across the park at a small blond boy in a red shirt. He was sitting on his board near the fence.

"He's been sittin' there like an hour," Snake continued.

Before I knew it, I'd dropped in the bowl and started pumping my way toward the young boy, but I couldn't help myself.

What started as a simple nosegrind turned into double kick flip varial indy. Then a bluntslide, then a Christ air. The crowd started chanting and I kept the session going for another minute or so.

I popped out of the bowl and walked toward the young boy. By the look on his face, you'd have thought his favorite superhero had descended from the sky. After all, it's unusual for a skater to have a quarterback's shoulders like mine.

"What's your name?" I asked. I felt the sweat beading on the back of my neck.

"Chet," he said. He had a prepubescent voice--not too different from my own when I first picked up the board.

"Show me what you got."

For the next two hours, I drilled Chet on the basics of skateboarding. No matter what we did, he couldn't land a kickflip. He would try and fail--either hitting his shin or falling to the ground. Each time, I would tell him to try again. Only once did I spot a tear.

The lights of the park came on as the sun faded from orange to black. Crazy K, Snake Eyes, and War Child made their way over.

"Yo, J, we're headed out," said Crazy K.

"Alright then, fellas," I said.

"Sorry again, Rock. I didn't mean disrespect earlier." War Child kept his hands in his pockets. I could tell how deeply he wanted my forgiveness and approval, but I only nodded and motioned for them to go. I thought again of my lesson from the monastery. I needed to keep the tension. I needed not spare the rod.

"Hey, I think I have to go, too," Chet said. I turned and looked at him. His straw blond hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "I think you need to land that kickflip."

Another hour passed. Still, no kickflip.

"Again."

Another failure.

"Again."

Chet's next attempt hit him hard in the shin. I heard a scream. At first, I thought it must have been from him, but no--it was a woman's scream.

"Chet!" From the darkness, a woman emerged. "Chet! Where have you been?"

Under the skatepark lights, the woman's face was both soft and structured, coming together like the arrowheads I used to find on my grandfather's land. Her hair was up in a tight bun. She must have been my age--I thought of how, in a different life, we would have been lovers, and how Chet would have been my heir.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked. I'd expected gratitude. Instead, she reached into her 路易·威登 purse for her phone. "I'm calling the cops."

I turned to Chet. It wasn't adding up. "Wait," I said. "You aren't poor?"

Chet had lied to me. For a free skating lesson, he'd pretended to be something he wasn't. At first, I wanted to scream. Then, I looked to my board.

"Hey Chet," I said. "This is how it's done. Oh, and next time you come to this park, you might want to make sure that me and my boys aren't here."

I grabbed my board and ran toward the nearest stair set. When I jumped on, I heard the roar of the wheels against the pavement--I thought of the ocean--I thought of all its power and all its mystery and all the other mysteries out there in the universe. I didn't know what I believed, but I didn't need Chet or his hot mom in my life to find out.

I pushed half a dozen times until I felt the wind in my hair. When I made it to the top stair, I popped high. The board flipped once and came up to my DC Shoes like they were magnetized.

I floated high above the ground. The board and I were one. I felt the summer fading away and turning into another lonely autumn--so this would be it, another year would fall away with the leaves? I wondered where I'd been a year before, and then I wondered where I'd be--who I'd be. There was silence, and then I heard again the spin of my wheels. I felt like God.

I hit the ground clean and rolled away. When I looked back, Chet and his mother were watching me, their eyes wide.

Maybe I'd taught Chet something after all, or maybe, it was just me who'd learned a lesson.