Back in the 1980s, while working as a ski instructor in Australia, my then-wife and I built a twenty-bed ski lodge in the Snowy Mountains where we ran skiing adventures.
More than a decade later, I moved to America where I instructed at several ski resorts. I also led back-country ski mountaineering trips on the towering Mount Shasta in Northern California which was double the height of our tallest peak in Australia, Mount Kosciuszko.
During these years, coming from a family influenced by alcohol and volatility, I had taken an interest in gender violence studies. My work with teenage boys and young men expanded into conflict-resolution training, in juvenile justice in USA and Australia. Mediation studies made me more aware of the language we use, and I learned to discern between provocative and neutral languaging.
This carried over into my work as a ski instructor, where I began noticing how some male skiers, in particular, talked about their skiing experiences.
One young bloke announced: “I ripped the crap out of the slopes.”
But I soon noticed there were plenty of other variations.
“I crushed the slopes; I tore up the mountain.”
“I annihilated those runs; I dominated the terrain.”
“I owned the mountain; I shredded the hill.”
These descriptive terms now sounded strange to my mediator-trained ears. Here we were wrapped in nature, surrounded by magnificent mountains, yet we talked about conquering, owning and dominating them.
Was this simply colourful ski-field language, or was it another example of the old Man Box influence?
While contemplating such questions, when I put pen to paper they would often manifest as quirky, rap-like rhymes.
Snow Some Respect
I didn’t crush it, burn, or slay,
I skied with joy, then bowed away.
The mountain smiled, said, “Nice one, mate,”
you don’t need to boast or dominate.
Perhaps it was only ski-field banter, but the male language stayed with me. Why did a good day in the mountains have to sound like a battle we had won? Was this another expression of the old male urge to prove ourselves: tougher, stronger, more daring and somehow more of a “real man”?
If boys grow up hearing that men should dominate, conquer and win, perhaps it is not surprising that these words creep into sport, adventure and our relationship with nature. I still love speed and the thrill of a challenging run, but these days I feel no need to defeat the mountain. I would rather enjoy it, respect it and leave grateful for the experience.
With these questions undoubtedly weighing on my mind, after back-country skiing on Mt Shasta, through a glorious forest of moss covered fir trees, these words flowed out of me…
Lone Skier
The lone skier slides neath the giant Shasta firs
while the earth mother sighs
to the sensuous caress
of her snow-covered thighs.
Maybe changing the way we speak about our relationship with the planet can also change the way we treat it.