The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Midwest Shreds: Skating Through America’s Heartland by Mandy Shunnarah


This feature, chosen by Guest Editor Merrick Sloane, is an excerpt from Midwest Shreds by Mandy Shunnarah (Arcadia Publishing 2024).

Davenport, Iowa

SKATE CHURCH


When     you     walk   into      Skate    Church,  you’re   not   just    walking   into
Skate   Church.   Housed   in    the   same   building,   a     former     furniture
warehouse now called the Center, are a number of nonprofits. There’s Quad
City     Harm      Reduction,  which     helps    people   who   are   addicted   to   drugs   use
them    safely   by   giving   people   clean    needles   and    Narcan.   There’s   a  donation-
based coffee   shop   in   the   back.   There’s   a   food   pantry  and   thrift   store.  There’s
a   studio   where     they   screen   films     and   teach   hip-hop   classes.  The   sanctuary,
which   includes   a   low   stage    with   a   cross   on   top  surrounded  by folding  chairs,
is  in  the  middle  of  it  all.  And  in   the  very  back   is   an   indoor   skate   park,  which
sprawls    across   two    floors    through   a   maze    of   ramps   and    bowls.   It’s   much
larger than the pictures online would have you believe.
    Pennie    Kellenberger,    who    has    been    running    Skate    Church     for     twenty-
one    years,    knows    everyone   in    the    Center   by   name.   And    they   know    her;
she’s the   one   they   go   to   for  help.   It  had   been   raining   in   Davenport  the  past
few   days   before   I   visited,   and  one  houseless   man’s   quilt   had   gotten   wet.  He
wasn’t  sure  how  he’d   be   able  to   dry  it, since  this   was   no   job   for   a  household
dryer    and    it    would   likely   need   to    be    professionally    dry   cleaned,   so    they
brainstormed     solutions.   Would    the    church   dryer   be   able   to   dry  out   a  quilt
on     site    before    it   became    irreparably   mildewed?    Probably    not.  Could    they



replace    the    quilt     with   other   blankets?   Pennie    would     check     her    supplies.
She   mentioned    she’d   just  given   away   her   last   sleeping   bag.   She   often   gives
supplies   away   the   same  day   she   gets   them.   Demand   is   high,   supply   is   low,
and the need is constant.
    “Are your shoes wet?” she asked the man. He nodded.
    “Take   them    off    and    dry   them    out,”    she   said.   The    man   looked   a   little
unsure,   as   though   he   shouldn’t   be  walking  around   barefoot   in   a   church,  but
Pennie    insisted    that   it   would   be   okay,   and   he   agreed.   After    all,    Christian
iconography   often   portrays   Jesus   barefoot.   It’d   be   a   hell   of a   thing   for   him
to judge.
    At   the   Center,   “come   as   you   are”   is   a  philosophy   that   weaves   throughout
the    organization.    It’s    the   same    philosophy    that    led   Pennie   to   start   Skate
Church over two decades ago.
    “We     kind     of    fell    into    it,”   she   said.    “We   started    doing   skate   ministry
because    I   was    working   at    the   church  across   the   street   and   I   realized  that
the    kids    I    was   drawn   to  didn’t   fit   the   kids  inside   the   church.   They  didn’t
feel     as    comfortable     being    inside    the    church,    so    we  started   doing  things
outside    in    the    parking    lot.    They’d     come    with     their    skateboards,   so   we
started building ramps.”


                                                                           ***

    “One    thing    skaters   have    in   common   is   you    can’t   stop   them.  Persistence
is a personality trait that threads through every skater,” Pennie said.
    Skaters      skate    in     defiance    of    the     police,      of      the      government,     and
of    private    property,  so    it    only   makes    sense    that    skaters   would    skate   in




defiance   of    the   church     too.   Institutions,   no   matter   how   much   power    they
believe   they    have,    cannot   stop   skating.   They   can   either  get   on   board   (pun
intended) with skaters or prepare for nonstop opposition.
    Skate   Church    is   a   testament  to  the   fact   that   if    you  listen    to   the   people
you want to serve, they’ll tell you what they need.
    “When     we     started,    there    wasn’t     a    skate   park    in     Davenport,”   Pennie
said,      although    one   was    built     about   ten    years   after   Skate     Church     was
established.  “But  my  goal  isn’t    to   build    skate    parks,   it’s   to   build   up  people
and   communities.  I   didn’t  set  out    to   build   a  really  cool  skate  park,  I   set  out
to build really cool people.”
    I   don’t   believe   in   much,     but   I     do    believe    in   skating.   I  believe    in  the
wind  on   my  face   when  I   go  down  a  ramp.  I   believe   in   sweat   dripping  down
the   small  of  my  back  and   pooling    under  my   breasts.   I   believe   in  knee  pads
and    helmets,    compression    socks    and   freshly   cleaned   bearings.  I   believe   in
doing   a   trick   you’ve  been  too   scared   to   try   for  months  and   feeling  powerful
when   you   realize   you   have  the   skills   and   just   needed  to   dispense   the   fear.
I    believe   in   falling   and  immediately   doing   the   trick    again   so    I   don’t  give
fear   time   to   settle   in   my  bones.  I    believe    there’s    something   about   skating
that  makes  it  feel  bigger  than  it   is,  like   it’s  a   reason  to  live   and   a   metaphor
for life, like it’s a calling beyond the mortal self.
    It’s enough to make me almost—almost—believe in God.


Mandy Shunnarah (they/them) is an Alabama-born Appalachian and Palestinian-American writer who calls Columbus, Ohio, home. Their essays, poetry, and short stories have been published in The New York Times, Electric Literature, The Rumpus, and others. They are the winner of the Porter House Review 2024 Editor’s Prize in Poetry and are supported by the Ohio Arts Council, the Greater Columbus Arts Council, and the Sundress Academy for the Arts. Their first book, Midwest Shreds: Skating Through America’s Heartland, was released in July 2024 from Belt Publishing, and their second book, a poetry collection titled We Had Mansions, is forthcoming from Diode Editions in 2025. Read more at mandyshunnarah.com. 

Merrick Sloane (they/them) is a neuro-Queer 90’s kid and nonbinary poet, editor, and researcher from Oklahoma. A Best of the Net and AWP Intro Journal Awards Winner, Merrick holds an MFA from UT, Knoxville. Merrick’s work has received support from The DreamYard Project’s Rad(ical) Poetry Consortium and Poet’s House. A 2025 Garden Party Collective Neurodivergence / Intersectionality contest winner, Merrick’s poetry also appears in citizen trans* {project}, ANMLY, Seattle Journal for Social Justice, Fruitslice, Puerto del Sol, and elsewhere. They are Associate Poetry Editor of Doubleback Review and Associate Editor of Sundress Craft Chaps. Merrick writes so that others may feel radically loved and is deeply committed to helping create a world that liberates us all.


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