Exposures
Making Waves
Nearly 20 years after I
started surfing, I finally have
a core group of mostly
Black women I surf with.
By Gabriella Angotti-Jones
Ms. Angotti-Jones is a documentary photographer based in Southern California.
I was 9 when I got my first surfboard. I took my new hot pink shortboard down to the pier, and an old head in a beat-up tank top walked up to me and asked, “You gonna ride that thing?” I nodded.
I remember sitting on the beach, staring at the waves. I was the only girl, let alone Black person, with a board.
I grew up in a biracial family in Capistrano Beach, Calif. We were among the handful of Black or mixed-race families in the neighborhood. I didn’t have much in the way of a community on land, or out in the water then.
I was too young to understand why at times I felt unwelcome in the lineup. I began to doubt myself, and on particularly bad days, where all I could do was wipe out, I felt as if the ocean didn’t want me, either.
I now have a core group of friends who look like me and also share my reverence for the ocean. I can always spot them bobbing in the water — their heads topped with a poof.
Autumn KitchensRockaway, N.Y.
Nina StoufferJacksonville, Fla.
Kimiko Russell-HaltermanSanta Cruz, Calif.
Sharon SchafferPlaya del Rey, Calif.
Jessa WilliamsManhattan Beach, Calif.
Autumn Kitchens grew up between Long Island and Rockaway, N.Y. She started surfing after taking a lesson when she was 15, and she has been surfing and living in the Rockaways for the past seven years.
Nina Stouffer is a self-described “soul surfer” from Jacksonville, Fla. She feels free in the water. “All your worries disappear,” she told me. “And especially with my friends, I always enjoy going out there and being with them, bonding.”
Kimiko Russell-Halterman’s love of the ocean is rooted in her Japanese ancestry. Her grandmother is from Okinawa and believes that one of her ancestors was an ama, a celebrated female free-diver.
Growing up mixed-race — Black, Japanese and white — Ms. Russell-Halterman juggled multiple identities at once. Surfing, she told me, made her realize “I’m not a pie that you like to slice up and dish out: I am Black. I am a woman. I am ocean. I am Japanese. It’s the whole pie.”
Sharon Schaffer is the first female African American professional surfer. She is also an accomplished actress, a poet and a musician. “I feel like it’s my responsibility to bring joy and love to the water,” she said. “I really want to lift people up and make sure they have a healthy relationship with Mother Ocean and those they share it with.”
Other surfers sometimes approach us to say hello when we’re together; they ask how long we’ve been at it. But not everyone is so welcoming.
Last December, Jessa Williams was called a racial slur by a white male surfer at El Porto in Manhattan Beach. His friends just sat by and watched.
But despite how uncomfortable it may make some, we will continue to suit up and paddle out. Indeed, many organizations devoted to teaching young people of color how to surf are led by Black women. I’m heartened to see a little more variety in gender, ethnicity and race in the lineup when I’m out in the water these days.
My friends and I charge for waves. We scream when one of us scores, and dance to Megan Thee Stallion while peeling off our wetsuits. I finally found the community I longed for all those years ago, when I first looked out at the ocean with my brand new surfboard.