By Andy Tran.
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.
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