FEATURE 3
Kate Archibald-Cross knows people stare at her as she walks towards the Memorial Centre. It’s her outfit — a clothing mash-up of knee-high socks, a short skirt and loud T-shirt — but the staring stops once she steps inside. Archibald-Cross sits on a bench and ties up her roller skates. She snaps shut the chin strap on her helmet and slides her mouth guard between her teeth. In less than six seconds, she’s gone from stay-at-home mom to “Skate At Home Mom,” her roller derby persona. As she glides onto the Memorial Centre’s iceless rink, one of the three leaders of Kingston’s newest sports league joins her fellow skaters.
As some two dozen women take laps around the rink, rock, rap and hip hop fill the rink’s empty bleachers. Tonight, a version of the song “Wild Thing” plays. One young, bespectacled skater takes a few laps around the rink, bends her knees and leaps into the air. She is airborne for a moment before landing and taking her next stride.
Chatter rises up from the women on the rink as they try different ways of stopping and work on their general fitness and strength. They talk about life and roller derby, including one of the quintessential aspects of the sport: a colourful costume and equally colourful roller derby name that says something about the player. Archibald-Cross continues to skate. When she stops to talk by the bench, she smiles at how far the Limestone City’s roller derby league has come in such a short time. Despite the league’s infancy — it is only a few weeks old — the sport is already thriving.
Flat-track roller derby is a simple game. Two skaters from opposing teams known as jammers try to make their way twice through a pack of blockers. On the second pass, jammers, identified by a star on their helmets, score one point for every opposing team blocker they pass. The blockers simultaneously help their own jammer through the pack and hinder the progress of the opponent’s jammer. As the jammers jostle with blockers and one another to score, body checks and hip bumps are commonplace. The bout can last up to two minutes. Following a 30-second break, the next bout begins.
Roller derby is like short-track speed skating where contact is legal and encouraged.
And the contact is real, along with the injuries skaters sustain. Volunteer paramedics attend Kingston practices after a busted ankle and elbow and various minor injuries reminded the women that this game isn’t easy on the body.
The possibility of injury doesn’t stop skaters from taking part in the all-women’s sport. (There are men’s roller derby leagues, but the sport has traditionally been a women’s-only domain. Men take part in leagues as coaches and referees.) Besides the athletic challenge, roller derby has theatrical elements that come through in how skaters dress and through the derby names — think of them as dramatic personae — that skaters choose. Roller derby at its core is an expression of self and an expression of girl power.
“Even though [roller derby] is a sport and it’s fun and athletic, it’s also a show and production,” says Emily Hawken, a.k.a. “Emi Lou Shiner.” “Everyone dresses up, everyone has a name.”
“I think that’s why so many women here were drawn to it,” says Laurie LaVallee, one of the league’s organizers. “You can be who you are.”
Creating the Kingston Derby Girls is part of a family tradition for LaVallee. Her grandfather, Leo LaVallee, started the north end baseball league. Her uncle, Ron LaVallee, is in the local sports hall of fame for his work building local youth baseball leagues. Now Laurie LaVallee can add her name to the list of those before her who have changed Kingston’s sports landscape.
Growing up in Kingston, roller-skating played a part in LaVallee’s youth. There was Studio 801, a roller-skating rink off Gardiners Road that was a popular weekend hangout.
“Out there growing up, we didn’t have a mall. That was the only place to do something,” says LaVallee, 36. “That roller rink we had was phenomenal.”
While some women in the league can recall skating at that old rink or other spots during their youth, none have played roller derby. “We’re all new to this,” says Archibald-Cross. “Some of us roller skated 25 years ago, but none of us have played this.”
Roller derby rose in popularity during the 1970s with its mix of speed, physical contact and colourful costumes. By the end of its first life in the 1980s, roller derby had evolved into professional wrestling on wheels. It fell off the public’s radar for more than a decade before a revival at the turn of the century. Today, it is a sport with associations and a 35-page rulebook.
Participation internationally has exploded since 2000. The governing body for the American league, the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association, has more than 450 leagues in 11 countries. In the United States, there are more than 3,200 roller derby participants. The two-year-old Canadian Women’s Roller Derby Association has over 850 women in more than 20 registered leagues. “It is pretty clear that roller derby isn’t just a flash in the pan,” says vice-president of the Canadian Association, Sarah Hissett, a.k.a. “Hissett Fit.”
For three years, Archibald-Cross, Hawken and LaVallee talked about starting a league. Finally, this past fall, the trio decided to try it and see what would happen. They found a place to skate at the Memorial Centre, ordered Kingston Derby Girls T-shirts and filled out all the paperwork necessary for insurance. LaVallee’s and Archibald-Cross’s respective partners painted the oval skating ring on the Memorial Centre floor, a job that took five hours given the precise measurements and angles laid out by the Flat Track Derby Association’s regulations.
To recruit skaters, the trio pasted posters around Kingston and even walked up to women on the street. “We went up to strangers saying, ŒYou look like you want to play roller derby,’” says Archibald-Cross. The three hoped at least 20 women would sign up so registration fees could cover the rink rental costs. (A new league is considered a success if it registers between 10 and 20 women, according to the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association.)
On the first sign-up day at the Queen’s athletics centre, a lineup of eager participants welcomed organizers. Twenty-five women signed up in 20 minutes. After the end of a May trial period, the league had about 50 confirmed skaters. By comparison, Toronto Roller Derby has about 80 participants and is one of the largest leagues in Canada.
“It’s something I was craving. I think it’s something Kingston was craving,” says Marie Bencze, 24. “I don’t see this being a short [-term] thing. I see myself playing this for years,” she adds later. “I want to be able to build a community of derby friends. It is a fiercely strong group of women, and I want to have us be more than a sports team.”
Women in the league range in age from 19 to 65 and come from all walks of life.
Archibald-Cross, 36, is a stay-at-home mom, raises her two children — Max, 9, and Leo, who turns five in August — and is a freelance writer and editor. LaVallee is a licensed hairstylist, works from home and raises her three children: Noah, 15, Lynus, 9, and Esmee, 5. Hawken is a PhD neuroscience student at Queen’s and a mother of three: Dex, 8, Nev, 6, and Lew, 4.
The sport’s full-body contact and sometimes-risqué costumes have created a common misperception that roller derby girls are tattooed ruffians — a stereotype that doesn’t hold up against the Kingston league’s membership.
“There is no set profile of a derby girl. It could be the grandmother that lives next door to you. It could be the dentist cleaning your teeth or the vet checking your dog. It could be the person selling you your insurance, Starbucks or new TV,” Hissett says. “To say that they are all pierced, tattooed bar staff just isn’t true.”
Wait a minute: Grandmothers?
Faye Ibbitson laughs at talk of age. At 65, she is the oldest skater in Canada. “Most senior is the word. Not oldest — the most senior,” Ibbitson says with a laugh, reclining in a chair in her living room, an addition to her home that she helped build.
A grandmother she is not. An adventurer she is, noting that her “bucket list” is very long. So when a friend suggested she join the league, Ibbitson jumped at the opportunity. She didn’t consider her age would bring her some notoriety.
“I’m actually proud of it. That’s who I am,” says Ibbitson, a.k.a. Fayzer on Stun, about her age. “It has to do with how people believe you can’t do it when you’re that old, and I’m proving you can do it and you should do it.”
At a May practice, Ibbitson is one of the last people onto the rink for a few warm-up laps after a series of lunges to get the blood flowing. It is humid inside the Memorial Centre on this night, but Ibbitson, clad in a green shirt and sweatpants, doesn’t look like she’s broken a sweat. Once on the rink floor, she glides around slowly at first. Then her pace quickens. As part of their skills test, women in the league must complete 25 laps of the track, which is about 50 metres in circumference, in five minutes. On the first night, Ibbitson did 23 laps in five minutes.
“What you can do is not related to age,” she says.
Weekly practices see the women move through different skill-testing stations. Water bottles line the boards by the two hockey benches. There is no music during practices. Instead, there is just the sound of the coaches’ whistles, deep breathing and sweat rolling down from beneath skaters’ helmets.
“It’s cool to see everybody progress,” says Bencze, a.k.a. “Manic Breeze.” “The first week, I remember walking out unsteadily, hobbling and feeling unsure, holding the walls for balance. Pretty much everyone started that way and you don’t see that anymore.”
The progression in skills, though, may stop come September. While league organizers were able to land space in the Memorial Centre for their 17-week season of training, they haven’t been able to find a space to practice for the rest of the year. Flat-track roller derby doesn’t require a lot of space — just a flat, smooth surface that can be painted with a white oval — for the women to practice on. However, not every league in Canada has been so lucky as to find an indoor space to practice in during the winter.
“Practice space is one of the biggest obstacles that all roller derby leagues face,” Hissett says. “And contrary to belief, toe stops do not wreck floor surfaces.”
If the Kingston Derby Girls can’t find a home for the winter, they won’t be able to practice for a year, Archibald-Cross says. Instead of improving their skills, rust may cover the progress made to date. To be competitive with other teams from Toronto and Montreal, the Kingston league knows it needs to practice in the winter to be competitive during the summer derby season.
The league plans to talk to the city about using municipal space, but the Kingston Derby Girls would be happy using an old industrial building. The Kingston Derby Girls are trying to find a place where they fit, and a spot that fits them.
“I really feel there’s a spot out there for us,” Archibald-Cross says. “All we need is a smooth 110-foot by 75-foot surface, and we’re ready to roll.” kl
