Race, Diversity, and Surfing: Selema Masekela

Selema Masekela Monster Children

Words by Elliott Wright. Featured photo by Matt Bauer. Additional photos courtesy Selema Masekela unless otherwise noted. 

Exploring race, diversity, and inclusion in surf culture with a cross-section of notable voices, past and present. In partnership with Red Bull.

Growing up as a skateboarder, I was always aware of Selema Masekela’s presence in the culture. The man has been around for some of action sport’s greatest moments. I was lucky enough to hear him speak, albeit under sad circumstances, last year. I woke up early to head to the Manhattan Beach Pier, where Selema was speaking as part of Ebony Beach Club’s peace paddle. Several hundred people had come together that morning to promote inclusivity and acceptance of others following a racist encounter three black surfers experienced the week before. It was a powerful moment, and one that I was proud to be a part of. I decided to speak with him about his experiences as a surfer, a passion he has practised for over three decades.


Selema Surfing

I heard in a 2012 interview that you hoped for a future where you wouldn’t have to answer what it would be like to be a black surfer. What has changed in the ten years since then?

It’s a lot less lonely than it was in 2012. We are better connected as a community because of social media and so there has been this incredible ability for us to get together, build a coalition, and support each other. We are having a conversation about it as a region of the culture. In the wake of 2020, the surfing community was finally forced, as were so many other communities that thought they were immune from the conversation, to have some dialogue on why the majority of the landscape looks monotonal in a certain way. I think that there is some progress that has taken place in that conversation. I see a very small handful of people wanting to do the work, and embrace the idea of what a diverse landscape looks like in this culture as a part of their brand and who they are.

I feel that Brick and Gage are among the people who are putting in the necessary work to spark a conversation in the surf community. Who else do you feel is doing the same?

I’m so gifted and excited to have this younger energy. Brick and Gage have become very good friends and to see the launch of Ebony Beach Club warms my heart. To be in a healthy exchange with them and with Textured Waves, we are never going to stop having the conversation and moving forward because we are the ones that have to deal with what it’s like to go and have an experience where your sole intent is to leave everything behind that you have on land, but unfortunately you have to deal with it in the water.

I had an experience not too long ago in the parking lot at Zeros when I saw another black guy. We were hyped to see each other. As is normally the case, we were going to walk up to each other and say, ‘Hey, I haven’t seen you before, where are you from? How did you start?’ That is how rare it is for us to engage with each other.

A guy who was getting dressed in his car next to him overheard our conversation and he said, ‘Why didn’t you come up to me and say “hello?” I think that it’s racist that you went and talked to that guy and not to me. Also, you people are consistently looking for handouts.’ And he starts going off on this crazy rant in the parking lot, accusing us of fucking up the lineup with the talk of race and all this shit. We were like, ‘Nobody is talking to you, and also, get out of my face.’ He wanted to fight. It took what didn’t happen, with Brick and Gage in the water, when everyone just sat around and did nothing. It took some other white people in the parking lot to come over to this guy, put him in check, get him in his car and tell him to go home.

I thought, ‘Alright, there’s hope, maybe people are learning.’ But also, now I have to shake off this experience, to get in the water, and not think about how I almost went to blows with somebody in a parking lot because he saw two black men engaging in the joy of seeing each other in the space where we don’t normally get to play, and it triggered him.

I’m thrilled and excited, but as Brick and Gage will tell you, this shit is never-ending.

The first episode of Red Bull’s In Plain Sight series is an absolute must-watch. 

As a society, we are making a move in the right direction. Is that why this conversation is being entertained?

Absolutely. If there was no Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, and COVID-19, we are not having this call right now, doing this interview, having this conversation. None of it. The manner in which, for the first time, I saw large swaths of the surfing community stop to look and listen was very powerful. If you had told me before that I would be seeing George Floyd paddle outs taking place online all over the world, and prominent stars of our community supporting it, I would have laughed. I also saw a lot of people not use their voice, be petrified and pretend like nothing else is happening for fear of losing their followers, etcetera.

The rise in interest in outdoor activities increased the number of beginners in the water. With that, an increase in diversity as well. I’ve overheard surfers complain that lineups are too busy with people that don’t know what they are doing, and taking up space. What do you say to that?

I would like to see the evidence of when you were not a kook. Everybody was, and still is, at a certain point, a certified kook when they started it. I’m stoked to see people having fun, wide-eyed, and learning the thing. I think when it comes to the hierarchy of a lineup, good surfing should be rewarded, for sure. Good surfing and good surfing etiquette and what sort of energy you build in the water should be rewarded. But this idea that because people don’t know how to do the thing they are going to be shut down and not, at least, given instruction on what it means or how this thing functions, is hilarious.

A lot of people during the lockdown wanted to live. I want to live my entire life. What have I been afraid of? What intimidated me? Some people started hiking, biking, adventuring, camping, and/or surfing. Being shut indoors, and having your life turned upside down, made people think about their lives.

When I go to El Porto and the South Bay, during the weekdays, I have the chance to see 20 to 25 black people out of the 1000 people in the water. If I see that many black people, shit, it might as well have been all black people that day [laughs].

You see people in the stoke of discovery because you can see that it is changing their life. To have that come later in life, in your later teens, or as a young adult, is game-changing. I didn’t start until I was 17. If you don’t grow up by the beach and realize that this is a space that you have access to, that new discovery is a radical life experience. That’s what is taking place.

What is it about being in the water that causes some people to lose their sense of decency and act on oftentimes disgusting behavior?

It comes down to the sense of ownership. A bunch of old, white dudes have been raised to feel that this is a space that they own. We saw a similar type of energy as women started taking to the lineup with force in the 1980s.

Look at what Lisa Anderson created. [Before that,] men had the ability to look at women at the beach as an opportunity, or for girls to be into them. Suddenly, men had to share space with women, and God forbid some of the women were better surfers. That fucked dudes up! And it continues to do so. We see women who are ripping and surfing 10,000 times better than these dudes, whose entire psyches are broken by this idea that this isn’t a man cave.

I think that same shit leaks over when it comes from a misogyny standpoint; it’s the same shit that bleeds over into the color of one’s skin. It’s this shitty antiquated idea of ownership of the space. Because I am a white man and I live within “x” miles of this place and I have been surfing here for “x” amount of time, I can literally tell you what to do. Get the fuck out of here. What kind of crazy-ass shit is that?

These are things that traditionally take a long time in this sport. Do I have confidence in the old guard changing their ways and suddenly being stoked to see me out there? No. However, I allow myself to be surprised when people act a certain way and be decent. But I don’t expect it, at all.

PHOTO: JOSHUA KISSI

What are your thoughts on the way that the surf industry, which is heavily based in Southern California and Australia, has marketed it for decades?

It’s literally the colonialism and white supremacy playbook, but just applied to surfing. This idea of, we discovered this thing, and now it’s ours. It’s the foundation of America. The whole story and marketing of it is that it emanates from SoCal. If you want to do the thing, then you need to emulate this, otherwise then you aren’t really even doing it. This is not a new or foreign concept when you unfortunately look at the layout of the world.

This is why I’m excited to be a part of doing what we are doing with Afrosurf. Going to Africa doesn’t just mean scoring great waves. You can also be in the discovery of culture. These are the many faces of what surf culture looks like here. West African surfing is very much a thing. Kids are ripping at the highest level and there is going to be a Senegalese storm soon.

What does the surf industry need to do in terms of presenting surfing to the masses, moving forward?

They need to embrace the various indigenous stories of wave riding. The earliest account by Indigenous people was 1640 in Ghana. Just as much as we tell the Hawaiian story, which is awesome and incredible, there is also a whole additional story. The industry needs to be curious and market and tell stories through the various lenses of what surfing looks like in the modern world as it’s taken place across Africa, the Americas, and within all these places. The industry will either get with the program, or the world will change and they will no longer be relevant. Time always heals these things.

I had a woman who runs HR at one of the biggest brands in the entirety of the industry. I had been brought in to do some consulting there with the marketing team. As soon as we began talking she said to me, “I just want you to know that we did a survey throughout the company, and we don’t have racism anywhere in the company. It’s not a problem here.” That was the opener!

Thanks for taking the time to speak with me Selema. In closing, I have one last question. What are some steps that can be taken by the surf community to promote more inclusion, especially in the lineup?

My favorite sessions are when someone says hello and wants to engage with me. That always makes a much more healthy experience. It builds rapport and trust in the lineup. In an activity that every time we paddle out we are putting our lives on the line, why wouldn’t you want to check in with each other, and be peaceful, and be curious about who you are out there with?

What happens to you, Mr. Cool Guy, when you treat everyone like they aren’t supposed to be there? You expect them to come to your aid if you take a fin to the head, or whatever it might be? Guess what? That dude who sleeps with other dudes might be the guy who saves your life. Or, maybe it’s the person that you rolled your eyes at because you can’t believe the amount of pigment in their skin. He or she might be the one to save your life.

Stay tuned for more interviews from our Race, Diversity, and Surfing series in partnership with Red Bull. 

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