Introduction
It is rather unfortunately true that Parkour, as of now, is a culture
that is predominantly male in participation. While recent pushes toward
equal sexual representation have been sought, including the advent of
training days specifically geared toward women in Toronto, New York
City, and others, as well as an increasing supply of literature
(whether text-based or otherwise) to help the traceuse, there still
exists a dynamic problem concerning sex and Parkour culture. We can
root the problem to a multitude of sources, some of them easily
solvable and others so subconsciously entrenched into the human psyche
that awareness of the issue is the closest we could possibly get to a
solution. However, there also exists the issue of overanalyzing.
This paper is not a solution, nor is it an analysis. I intend here to
expose the components of sex and culture, both specific to Parkour and
more generalized to Western lifestyle. In this way, I hope that the
very
awareness of these issues may
prompt traceurs, traceuses, community leaders, and the like to work
toward sexually equalizing the discipline. The discipline does not need
to change to be more attractive to one sex or another, but our
understanding of the discipline has been juxtaposed to our presentation
of the discipline, and this has certainly caused a strain. What I mean
is that, consciously or subconsciously, we have taken our hand in
presenting Parkour as a masculinizing discipline, despite the fact that
our general understanding of the discipline is genderless in its
philosophical
and social approaches.
Before we begin, it
is necessary that I first establish some of the terminology that will
be used in this paper, so as to avoid confusion. The most important
understanding that must be established is sex and gender. Sex involves
the biological and chromosomal differences between an organism being
male or female (or sometimes both in some species and through random
mutation in humans on occasion). Gender, however, is not synonymous
with sex. Gender is the cultural distinction between what is masculine
and what is feminine. As such, gender is fickle and
culturally-dependent. What is masculine one day is not necessarily
masculine another day. While some aspects of gender have been seemingly
in place throughout human history, it is not a logical assumption that
it is therefore rooted in
biological
sex. It is important to try to be aware of what has been genderized and
what is biological. Other terms used in this paper will be explained
along the way.
The Masculinization of Parkour
The most prominent concern in Parkour is the manner by which the
discipline has been slowly diluted and profaned by mass media
representations and corporations. A large fragment of this is the
growing masculinization of the discipline. By this, I mean that the
image of Parkour has heavily coincided with conceptions of Western
masculine heteronormative behaviour. While the media is largely at
fault for this, the Parkour community has also played a role. We can
look at the media and see how Parkour has been masculinized because it
is often portrayed as "crazy" or "extreme." By spectacularizing the
discipline, the media has rendered it much less serious and thoughtful,
but this will be covered later. Here, it is important to note that
almost all male bodies portrayed in the mass media of Parkour have been
spectacularized.
The media would have us believe that those
with the best ability in Parkour require and condition to bodies of
hypermasculine levels, and the first notions of this concept seem quite
logical. However, it is known to any traceur that the spectacle of the
masculinized body is not in necessary relation to one's ability of
movement. Mass media tries to paint another picture with a careful
selection of handsome, muscular men as traceurs. It is also interesting
to note that outside of mass media, local media outlets have almost
always displayed male bodies that are culturally
emasculate,
i.e. skinnier men. The binary which exists is a poignant one, as you
think of how mass media can relate to hypermasculinity in its
portrayals while local media can relate to androgyny (for lack of a
better word and by which I refer to simply a lack of sexual tension).
This can be displayed as the tension between consumer culture and folk
culture. At its simplest, the hypermasculine spectacle is an easier
sell to masses. However, our problem does not end at the body. It is
not only the body that is masculinized, though, as we see the same
pattern occurring to the discipline itself.
Turn to any media
involving Parkour and watch the screens. High drops, rooftops, long
dives. The actions are almost portrayed as superhuman. It is this
"extreme" image that draws in such a high male participant ratio, at
least initially. To give a contrary example, if we look to how
gymnastics has culturally been exposed, there is a significantly higher
ratio in favour of females. However, it is important to note that
gymnastics is still a discipline that requires a very high level of
fitness, and male participants are often certainly within the muscular
range of a typical "hypermasculine" body. We can also say the same of
ballet (or nearly any form of dance). What is the difference?
Within the community, there is often a furthering of this
masculinization. It is unfortunate to say that competition is a
masculine trait in this day and age, and doing bigger and better than
another often earns a person some credibility, especially in other
fields and disciplines. It is often said that competition is a natural
and inherent trait to the human species, and one can find intense
competitiveness when looking at anything from football to dance to
placement in a symphony. While this is true, direct competition is
culturally engendered as masculine, despite the sex of the parties
involved. It is a generally understood gender binarism wherein
competition is viewed as masculine and altruism is viewed as feminine.
(Note that it is the position of cultural theorists, third-wave
feminists, and the like that the process of genderization is fallacious
and does not correlate with reality; however, it is an observation of
what is generally perceived by culture.) While Parkour itself may be
different, and a large amount of the truly devoted frown upon
"show-boating" as it would be, the casual traceur is a lot less likely
to truly understand many of the less tangible conceptions of Parkour.
As such, it is not uncommon to see several male traceurs try to one-up
the other. This drive is only a means of portraying to outsiders a very
negative of Parkour, and severely adds to the problem of engendering it.
Ann Kaczka of New York Parkour says, "The masculinization of Parkour in
all facets of both the public and private spectrum is what put up the
mental block that initially prevented me from practicing the
discipline." It creates an unattractive image of the discipline, not in
the repulsive way, but rather it could dishearten several potential
participants, regardless of sex.
Despectacularizing the Art
Parkour is a visually stunning discipline. Many of us have likely
logged at least a few hours total watching videos. Many of us likely
have backlogs on our hard drives of gigabytes worth of self-shot video
footage. However, there is no reason for the discipline to be as much
of a spectacle as the media has attempted for it to be. If we look to
where Parkour has landed in the open media, I believe the majority of
us will say, "That is not Parkour." And it is not.
Much of
Parkour has a deep spirituality to it, akin to martial arts and yoga.
And while martial arts have, too, been spectacularized, we can look to
the peace and calm image of yoga, which is likely a better comparison
than martial arts as both Parkour and yoga are non-combative
disciplines. Truth be told, the manner that we portray Parkour can
change entirely. We can remove these spectacular notions and instead
look at small, tiny, controlled movements. We can portray images of
utmost discipline and of recapturing the beauty of movement. Many
self-made documentaries and artistic videos have already achieved this
to a great and gorgeous and, yes, spectacular level. And, indeed, by
changing the outward image of Parkour, we will be much closer to
portraying an accurate image of the discipline from the get-go.
The thrill-seekers are often interested in Parkour for a moment and
then leave. Those who stay are of a different breed. We see the beauty
of the discipline. We see non-competitive nature and we become grounded
in it. Ann Kaczka says, "[When I discovered Parkour,] I was very much
looking for something to sort of hold me together, it was a very
transitional period." And even on the male side of things, Chris
Linhares of Mississauga, Ontario says, "For some of us, Parkour is just
that thing that clicks. We all get lost, and for some of us, Parkour is
what helps us find our way."
The spectacle in culture is a
means of removing one's self from what is beneath the gaze. It is the
gaze that is demeaning. The ultimate conclusion of the spectacle is
that "this is inhuman/subhuman/superhuman." We make spectacles of the
grotesque, and we make spectacles of the extraordinary. But even the
extraordinary is demeaned beneath the gaze, because what is "natural"
and "normal" becomes "unnatural" and "abnormal." The image we want to
promote for Parkour is not hypermasculine spectacle, because it
associates us with the unnatural. Rather, we want Parkour to remain
completely natural and ordinary and remind people that this is a
discipline for
anyone and
everyone;
this is the way human beings were supposed to move in the first place.
The ultimate image to portray is the genderless non-image; a vacuous
window that is no spectacle, but so utterly normal that it is
unnoticed, no matter the type of body engaged in it nor the sex of that
body.
The point is that Parkour does not need a spectacular
image. It is spectacle enough as it is. It is beautiful enough as it
is, and rather than masculinizing it, it becomes our duty to bring it
back to neutral. On a basic community level, we can demasculinize the
discipline by not encouraging traceurs to attempt to reassert their
masculinity by going bigger and bigger. We can stop shooting video
after video without a purpose. We can stop trying to make ourselves
"look cool" or make a name for ourselves in some small way. And then we
can work on the media, and how we appear to them. We can refuse media
jobs that
will spectacularize our
discipline. In this manner, we can take the first steps to remove any
engendering properties that have hitherto been associated with our
beautiful discipline.
The Female Resource
It
goes without saying that because few women get involved in the
discipline, even fewer step up to play a leadership role. Yes, there
are a few scattered here and there, who work largely under the radar
for whatever reason. Ultimately, without female representation, less
women will be inclined to become involved. Tracey of Parkour
Generations is one face that has stepped into the sunlight to try to be
a voice. Others have done great things and are well-known among the
community, but have as of yet tried to become a large enough voice to
be noticed outside of these communities (and I will not name them).
Ann, again, "The lack of female representation is definitely an issue
when it comes to the recruitment of traceuses. I think it is really
important for women to see other women doing the sport; it is then
easier to say, 'If she can do it then so can I.' As a woman, watching
someone like David Belle and saying, 'If he can do it then so can I,'
is a bit more difficult because we are built in totally different ways;
we move differently, we have different strengths and weaknesses, we
physically and mentally approach obstacles differently, etc."
In addition to a lack of representation, there is a significant lack of
resources that caters directly to the female physiology. Mandy of
Toronto says, "[Even though] I've found the training for Parkour to be
more natural than other things I've done, I have problems because my
upper body strength isn't really comparable to guys." The female body
is significantly different from the male body, and these differences
can affect movement among other things. While a person, regardless of
sex, is encouraged to find their own way, a woman may be left feeling
inadequate because she cannot seem to find a natural way to imitate the
movements of a traceur. For instance, a traceur is structured
physically with strong arms and shoulders, and it is much easier to
maintain control during a long dive for a
saut du chat,
particularly taking the impact of the body onto the shoulders. A
traceuse, on the other hand, is a lot less likely to be able to control
the body performing a long dive, and may be much more inclined to pop a
saut du chat into a kash vault over a
long obstacle, so as to save the shoulders some trouble. However, many
experimentations for the female body, and many resources geared toward
it, have not been performed and do not exist.
There are those
that will contend that no separate manner of teaching or movement or
conditioning is necessary for women. Admittedly, there is an issue
involved with providing such resources (or by even writing this paper),
and that is that it all notes that there is a difference and something
should be done about it. This has often occurred in many feminist
debates, where one side has argued that even pointing out problems can
only perpetuate problems or make equality
less likely than otherwise. I will argue this by saying that if special attention is not paid, then nothing changes at all.
The Female Body
There is a
second argument that says that the female body does not lack upper body
strength compared to males because of a biological difference, but
because it has been culturally conditioned that way. That is to say
that the argument contends that a little girl is constantly socially
aware (at least in her subconscious) of what role a woman is supposed
to play in her culture, and therefore avoids activities that would
change her physique. While this argument does raise a very good point,
it neglects a lot of evidence to the contrary. However, the point that
it does raise is that there is often a very large cultural stigma
against
women being powerful in a physical sense, and that this does play a
role into the physique that a woman builds over her lifetime.
Ashlee Taylor of Hamilton, Ontario remarked about gym culture, and how
she sees women in gyms constantly worrying about developing significant
amounts of muscle mass. In addition to this, a student of mine, Kim
Pereira (also of Hamilton), had expressed to me concerns of this nature
when she had first approached me for training. It is actually a
pressing concern for women, because they do not want their bodies to
not appear "feminine" anymore. Ashlee, a recreational bodybuilder,
explains, "A woman's body cannot change into a man's body without
science getting involved. Unless a girl is filling her body full of
chemicals, her body will not be able to naturally produce the hormones
necessary to develop a masculine physique."
A female body that
begins training will produce less estrogen and more testosterone,
because muscle mass will need to be developed, but it will never become
so grievously unbalanced so as to render a Schwarzenegger-like body. At
worst, the body's musculature will be toned up.
Even so, there
are several issues that are raised concerning the female body. Traceuse
or not, women are rendered cultural spectacles. So much of "femininity"
is derived in appearance, in making up what is "femininity." It is when
we see this that we understand that gender is a cultural fiction,
because a woman must assert her femininity on the outside. But to bring
this to Parkour specifically, I can understand the fears for a woman in
the regard of the body changing; after all, the body is so much more
spectacularized for women than for men, whether in the mass media or in
everyday culture (all you need to do is watch a group of guys talk to
each other when a remotely attractive woman walks by).
The
spectacle is a problem everywhere in Parkour. When Parkour is
spectacularized, it is also trivialized. A layperson sees a spectacle
and distances him/herself from it. The idea is, "I can never do that,
but isn't it awesome?" When it is rendered away from the conventions of
society, whether it is in disgust or in praise, it is distanced and
removed from humanity. For traceurs, it is not so much their personhood
that is removed, but the discipline itself is seen only at face-value.
Quite simply, when it is spectacularized, the value of Parkour as a
whole is diminished. All we do and all we have worked for, in a single
instant, is trivialized into obscurity and meaningless cultural babble.
The concern for traceuses is that they will be initially and
immediately spectacularized, and in a completely different manner than
traceurs. This is often, in popular culture, referred to as
"objectification." We can see this on occasion whenever the topic of
traceuses comes about on forums. Though the change is coming, within
the private spheres of communication, there is always a degree of
objectifying women. After a coaching session with a traceuse, another
traceur had approached me and made a rather vulgar comment
lightheartedly. He meant nothing by it, but the point remains that
women will always face the trouble of being a spectacle. Another
traceuse spoke to me concerning a national Parkour event. During the
event, she was aside and away from the crowd, stretching. A group of
traceurs behind her began making snide comments to each other in
relation to the position she was taking in her stretch.
Unfortunately, this kind of degradation is unstoppable, because men
often are, to put it bluntly, stupid. However, awareness of this kind
of issue may lead to some sort of change, and hopefully, it can
alleviate at least some of the pressure on potential traceuses.
Community and Sex
Morgan
Grodecki of Toronto, Ontario once told me that it was the community
that drew him to Parkour. Ultimately, the communities that we have
built are a lot of the reason why many participants enjoy the
discipline so much. Many communities become as tightly knit as
families, and there is hardly any harsh competitiveness or antagonism
between community members, even worldwide. However, it is also as true
that men are likely to go out one by one or two by two and learn
Parkour on their own through experimentation. Solo training is as
important as group training.
Mandy of Toronto says, "I prefer
to train in small groups. When I'm by myself, the only thing to
motivate me is myself, and that's much more difficult." This is not to
say that Mandy does not train alone, but that she requires a much
harder motivational push to get herself out there. While I will
elaborate further in a moment, I want to point out that for nearly
every one of us, traceur or traceuse, it is the community that draws us
in. Morgan told me that he probably would not have stuck with it if not
for the community, but that hardly stops him from training on his own,
as well. The community is ultimately what drives us, and our will for
self-improvement carries over into our solo time.
Jess Azstalos
of Oakville, Ontario says, "Girls want to feel like they belong to
something. No girl I know is going to go out by herself and try to
figure out these movements." This may be another problem with the
spectacle that has grown out of Parkour, as it is seen as dangerous. It
is this dangerous element, which is largely untrue, that deters many
women from even approaching the discipline with anything other than
mild curiosity. Fitness for women suddenly falls into a largely
domesticated sphere in yoga or pilates, where they can be removed from
public spheres. A feminist critique would say that this is another
obstacle that strongholds male dominion in modern culture. My answer is
to stand against it. Train in Parkour. Join the community, into the
public sphere.
When I began the research for this paper, I was
initially going with the premise that there was a social tendency for
women to prefer community training as opposed to training alone.
However, that hypothesis was a little ridiculous. In response to Jess,
Ann corrected me, "I think to want to belong to something bigger than
yourself, whether it be a group, a team or a cause, is just the human
condition. It really does depend on the individual, though. When I
first started, I didn't want to introduce myself to the Parkour
community because I knew it would be really hard in the beginning. I
didn't want anyone to see me struggle, so I started out trying to
figure out the movements alone. I felt it was important to come in to
the community already strong, I didn't want anyone to think of me as a
girl, but just as a strong person with a lot of passion for Parkour and
movement."
Upon reassessment, I remembered my own hesitation to
train alone in the beginning of my journey. In fact, for myself, the
attraction of solo training came much later, and I am left with the
conclusion that there is no sexual preference for or against community,
but that it is a rather highly individualized concern. Still, community
is an important factor and what is essential is that communities grow
in environments that nurture all sexes, all genders, all
personality-types, and so forth. What is most important is that
communities grow to nurture more female practitioners. Regardless of
how one trains alone, the community itself must grow to become
genderless. For Parkour, which has largely been male-dominated, there
must be greater care taken to understand the female perspective.
Awareness is critical.
Last Words
I want to leave you with some wonderful words by Ann.
No
one can move like [David Belle] just like no one can move like Stephane
or move like you or me. The goal is just to keep moving, concentrate on
your training and try to be as useful to everyone around you as
possible. That is the only way one progresses.