Author: David Mitchell
Two kids use the Occidental College’s landscape as a playground. Benches, ledges, walls, stairs, gates all become a stage to express our creative energy. No, we’re not skateboarding. We’re free-running.
Common moves in this sport include various creatively named vaults (the monkey vault, the king-kong vault) and flips, spins, and climbing maneuvers. My favorite move may be the wall-flip. The free-runner solidly plants one, two, sometimes even three feet, running up a wall and then confidently kicks out and transfers his energy into a back flip. There is nothing that feels as cool as hurling yourself backwards with nothing to support you but trust and inertia. It is a pure joy of flight that overtakes me every time I pull off this move.
Free-running is composed of two elements. The first is efficient movement. The free-runner learns how to move through an environment as quickly and with the least amount of extraneous movement as possible. We like to pose hypotheticals such as, ‘How would you climb that wall if you had the cops chasing after you?’
Efficient movement provides some measure of appeasement to my mother, who constantly harps on me for risking my spinal cord for what appears to be no good reason. I tell her that if I’m ever stuck in a situation such as a terrorist attack or a giant tidal wave that, using my free-running skills, I will be the most likely person to survive.
The second element of free-running is the style moves. These, unlike the efficient movements, are more oriented towards show and they are intended to display the athleticism, grace, and power of a free-runner.
An eclectic mix of people gather every Thursday night at the church on 8th and Vermont for a unique event. The crowd, mostly, but not entirely composed of men contort their bodies into outrageous shapes using strength, flexibility, and athleticism to express movements at the outer reaches of human ability. Many of the positions seem to defy gravity and Newtonian laws of physics. They flip, they bounce, they slide, they twist, they spin . . . they dance.
Every movement is accompanied by music. A dj stands atop a stage at the front of the room spinning classic James Brown and funkadelic hits. Outside, spray cans hiss as taggers decorate large canvasses and upstairs, vocalists lay down intricate flows to musical beats.
The place is filled with an infectious energy and smiling faces as people passionately pursue the activities they love. The people here comprise JUICE (Justice in Creative Energy), and bboys (the title for those who commit themselves to the dance), and we come from all over the Los Angeles area to be a part of this. We come from different backgrounds and express different styles but we all share a love for the in-your-face, aggressive expressionism of the dance….
It is no coincidence that JUICE brings together four diverse activities, break dancing, rapping, tagging, and djing. All of these pastimes developed concurrently during the late 70’s in New York City as part of the hip-hop movement.
Contrary to popular belief, rap did not develop as a way for men to display gangster machismo and incite violence. In fact, the hip-hop movement is oriented towards pacifism. The idea is that if we can get kids to battle (whether this be a dance-fight between two bboys or a rap battle between two mc’s) then these kids will be less likely to settle their differences with outright violence. Break dancing is a non-violent way to express the energy and frustration of growing up in a difficult environment with few resources and fewer prospects for a better future.
Break dancing is a challenging dance that teaches both creativity and discipline to practitioners. For some reason it is conspicuously absent from the Occidental campus. Hip-hop, ballet, afro-caribbean and many other dances are taught at the school but break dancing, much to my chagrin, hasn’t caught on with the student dance community.
Both free-running and breaking are artistic pursuits which translate the momentum of bodies into creative displays. I like to think of myself as a kinesthetic artist. The artist uses momentum and power to create a visually interesting performance.
Unlike other sports, both these activities need no accessories. There are no rackets, clubs, balls, or boards with wheels. All you need is yourself and an environment to play within (and maybe a good pair of sneakers). The difference is the nature of the environment. Bboys work on wood floors while free-runners interact with multi-faceted urban environments.
Many consider the sports to be too dangerous to be worth it. This is especially true of free-running which has a reputation of being dangerous because runners do risky maneuvers without pads or helmets. While I have never been seriously injured free-running or bboying I have suffered multiple bruises, scrapes, sore wrists and ankles, as well as accidentally kicking a friend or two in my enthusiasm.
For those few who really relate to these activities there is no question that it is worth the hours of time and the injuries. It is the feeling of flying, the sensation of cheating gravity and challenging the stability and safety of one’s own body that makes these activities so enjoyable.
Whether I’m spinning on my head or lazy vaulting over a cement wall, it’s that same damn feeling that sticks in my brain and just won’t let me go.
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