This is an essay I wrote for my geographical thinking class
This week talked about the context and the “what” of the idea of place, from the humanistic ego and ethnocentric approach, environmental determinism, and the laws of spatial behavior. The meaning of “home” as well as ego, stereotypes, and ethnocentric ideology reminded me a lot about the concept of localism. Localism is defined as a preference for one’s own area or region, especially when this results in a limitation of outlook. In my personal life, this comes up a lot in the surfing community. “Locals” are those people that live at, or at least near, the specific surf break, that is the section of coast where the waves break to form a rideable wave. When I read about different surf breaks to visit around the world, there is usually a discussion about the mood of the locals that live there. Certain places are known for high and sometimes even dangerous levels of localism, where the locals that live and surf their might harass, bully, even physically assault any tourists that try to surf “their” waves. On the other hand, there are some places that are known for really kind and welcoming locals. I find this interesting and can somewhat understand both sides; as surfing continues to grow in popularity, breaks are getting more and more crowded. Waves are already a rare and finite resource, there is only so much inhabited coastline, furthermore good waves are hard to find, and perfect waves can be counted on your hands.
Since the first Hawaiians rode waves on slabs of redwood trees, “rules” were enforced about who or where someone could surf. Then, only the Hawaiian kings got to ride the best waves on the best boards. Once surfing became more popular, spreading to the mainland United States and Australia, things got even more crowded. In the 60s, surfing skyrocketed in popularity; movies were made, and surfboards were being manufactured at record speed, allowing more Californians to try their hand at the new pastime. This led to places like Malibu and San Onofre beach seeing a hundred or more surfers in the water at the time, which upset the surfers who had already surfed there regularly. The most famous of which is a Miki Dora who is credited for inventing the style of “localism” that consisted of pushing less-skilled surfers off of their boards, fights, even aiming and firing the board at their heads.
This style of “localism” has continued to persist and evolve in surfing, with different levels of intensity and reasoning. It is a very primal human reaction to defending something valuable but is interesting when that thing has almost no value at all. It all stems from a loose honor and respect system that is also very primal in nature. The best surfers get the best waves, then the locals (who are usually very good as well), then the average surfers, then the beginners and less-skilled. This hierarchy is understood and honored by most, and when it is broken, there is chance for consequence. What I think is most interesting is understanding where this sense of entitlement comes from. Since there is no way to really own nature, aside from beach front properties perhaps, until the day there are jet ski patrols in the water, there is no way to enforce laws. The feeling is very innate and relatable to surfers as well, when someone you do not recognize paddles out to the lineup at your local break, your guard goes up and it might be a little awkward. If you spend enough time surfing at a certain beach, you start to recognize the people that also go there. So, when a newcomer arrives, you ask yourself, “Who is this guy?” and “What does he think he’s doing out here?” And for most, surfing is a very personal and selfish thing with a meditative sense. When that sense of serenity and calmness is lost because of an “intruder,” it is natural to be curious about who this new person is. Once the “intruder” proves themselves by being a good surfer, understanding the lineup, and generally being respectful, the wave of uncertainty diminishes and sometimes those sessions can even be some of the most memorable.
I believe this sense of entitlement largely comes from a sort of gang-mentality, that everyone must do their time to earn some respect at a certain spot, especially bigger, better, more crowded spots. This is also why I believe there is a decrease in the levels of hostile localism in colder, less-consistent places such as the East Coast of the United States. There, you earn a lot of respect just by being in the water, because once the ease of access is removed in the form of warm water and easy to navigate waves, it is purely for the love of surfing. On the east coast, most surfing is done in the winter, where the water temperature can drop to around 40 degrees and a 5mm thick wetsuit is required to enter the water without freezing to death. So honestly, being that committed to surfing earns a level of respect.
Respect, how it is earned, and how it is shown is the bottom line in regard to surf localism and localism in general. People act on their primal instinct to guard their “home,” that place where they are most comfortable, from intruders and outsiders. It makes sense that when you enter someone’s home, you act respectfully, but alas that is not always the case. Throughout history there are countless examples of people’s homes being taken from them. This could be literal in the form of land, or more abstract like cultural practices being forgotten or outlawed. This can also be on much different scales, like entire cultures disappearing after wars or genocides, or a favorite camping trail being destroyed by a new supermarket. As the human population continues to grow, will localism be necessary? It has proven to work in some instances in the water, there are certain sports still undiscovered or uncrowded because the locals keep secrets or scare off any outsiders. But will there still be ways for humans to find solidarity from an ever-growing population and ever-expanding urbanization and development? I think so, but they will be harder to find, and thus must be treated well and cared for. A good spot to surf, fish, a good trail and campsite, the best spot to get tacos, a local dive bar; everyone has something or someplace to go where they can be free to pursue a passion, breathe, meditate, and have a good time. And there is so much value to a spot like this, for someone out there, it could be where they met their spouse, or where they rode the best wave of their life, or just had a great night. But these memories and their value are priceless and as such might be more valuable to someone else with more money or a different idea of what would better suit the area, perhaps a new neighborhood or harbor, and so those memories are forced to be just memories alone. I believe in the preservation of nature and culture, not only is it so important to so many different people, but it can continue to be a pure source of “stoke” for generations to come. Lack of respect for the culture and general practices of surfing and losing a source of serenity and peace brought about a “need” for localism in surfing. I say a “need” because it does work, new surfers need to learn to respect the ocean, the spot, and the other surfers some way. And while I don’t condone or think it’s the right answer, I can understand why some resort to violence. The world is becoming a crowded place, and each person will continue to seek out their own source of stoke. Respect will continue to become increasingly important to allow for this to happen, but it is something that can be hard to teach and is never guaranteed.
Surf Study 