Creating warm spaces: on being a queer female Asian climber

I’ve been asked lately how and why I’ve become interested in attending women’s climbing events and participating in the inclusive climbing movement as a whole. The short answer is: it’s relevant to me. The long answer is a little more complicated and requires an explanation.

The climbing scene has been a part of my life for the past 6 years. It started as an ask by a friend to try out this new thing called “indoor rock climbing” that was just getting popular at the time. I was instantly hooked and bought my first pair of shoes and harness shortly after. Starting with top-rope I worked my way through 5.6s, 5.8s (which I remember being extremely hard to break through), and up to 5.11+s. Then came lead, bouldering, and outdoor climbing. And throughout the years I connected with so many other people who shared my love of the sport.

This community is one of three that I’m part of - ones in which I feel empowered and alive. The other two are the Asian community and the LGBTQ community. In each of these groups I feel connected. Strong. Welcome. Myself. Safe. As soon as I step into a gym or head out for a day of outdoor climbing I feel comfortable and encouraged. When I catch up over tea with a friend that identifies as queer I feel like I’m with someone that gets me. When I hang out with other Asians I’m amongst family. I am at home.

As females, queer individuals, people of colour, we are underrepresented in many ares of society. We shouldn’t be. All of us should feel welcome doing things that we love to do or want to try doing for the first time. We should be able to hang out at the climbing gym and feel included, not intimidated. We should be in spaces where we can celebrate our differences. We should be comfortable helping one another out if it’s asked for and to do so with care and respect. Our environments should be encouraging - not intimidating and fearful. 

I do realize that fear is a natural part of climbing. But this fear is mostly internal, psychological, and focuses on self-control and trust. Trusting yourself, your body, your abilities, your equipment, your climbing partner, the wall, the rock. Trust is something that is both strong and fragile - once it’s cracked the foundation is hard to repair. Sometimes it doesn’t take much for these cracks to form. Self-doubt, lack of confidence, bad experiences. I could go on. A lack of trust can be crippling and it’s hard to overcome, but it can be done with patience and a supportive environment.

All of us have had our share of negative uncomfortable experiences at the gym (and in life) that result in us questioning ourselves. Experiences that leave us feeling intimidated and vulnerable. When I can’t make big moves or finish certain routes due to my -2 ape index and smaller frame I’ve had these features called out as if they’re a huge detriment. I’ve been quietly dismissed by a climber who preferred to help more feminine-presenting girls after I asked for help on a route. I’ve had “come on just throw!” yelled at me when, honestly, I can’t just throw because my body doesn’t work that way. Even though I’m a strong climber these experiences are uncomfortable and instil feelings of doubt. They make you question yourself and your abilities. It shouldn’t be this way. These feelings shouldn’t be felt when you’re doing something you enjoy.

Some will say that these episodes are just unfortunate circumstances of being around inconsiderate people. That these individuals were just trying to be helpful. Or that I’m overly sensitive and need to get over it. All fair points to consider, but it doesn’t make the actions any less hurtful or crappy or real. As climbers and as people we should be more aware of ourselves and what we’re saying. We should be good to each other, respectful, and think before we act. It’s part of making our environments inclusive and ensuring everyone feels comfortable and at their best.

So back to the original question. Why do I like attending inclusive climbing events? Because they’re spaces where I feel relevant and included. Seen. Part of a whole. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. These are events where we can learn about each other, bond over our similarities and connect through our differences.

As an aside I want to emphasize that I don’t dislike men or those who aren’t queer or Asian or people of colour. I’m not suggesting that strong connections can’t be made otherwise because of course they can. For me personally, my connections are simply more instant, natural, and strong with those that are just like me and have experienced the same joys and adversities.

Before I end this post, take 10 minutes to watch this documentary about women and diversity in climbing created by REI and featuring Shelma Jun of Flash Foxy. It’s one that sums everything up so well.