"What else could we have said?"
Cover Image by Jack Hessler
The first time I saw Casey Pflipsen snowboard – in an Instagram compilation of queer snowboarders in 2019 – my first thought was, “that’s just some guy from Minnesota.” At the time, the concept of a “queer snowboarder” was nascent if it was anything, and Casey – with his long hair and beard looking like Al Binder in Working For the City 2 – stood out for both his incredible trick selection and his demeanor, which reminded me more of several talented Minnesota snowboarders than it did any gay men I knew. But at the time, pre–Torment Mag Pride Week, there were few if any prominent queer snowboarders and, despite my own queerness and a strong desire to bring pride to snowboarding, I was falling into the same trap so many people do: judging a snowboarder at first glance.
Since then, Casey has shown he is both the kind of salt-of-the-earth street snowboarder I’ve come to expect from Minnesota, and a proudly out gay man. There are times when his snowboarding reminds me of Justin Fronius, Dan Liedahl, or Mike Liddle. There are times when I’m reminded that Casey, alongside a whole generation of young queer snowboarders, is forging something new.
Casey rose to prominence as a part of the iconic Minnesota-based queer snowboard crew Pink Dollar Possy, a group he has now left. Though he may be at a crossroads in his career, one thing that remains consistent is his love of snowboarding and a desire to see more diverse representation on the hill. Casey and I chat about the growing pains of coming out as a snowboarder, the enormous lull in queer support in snowboarding post-2020, and what the future holds.
The Margin How old were you when you started snowboarding, and how old were you when you came out?
Casey I was on skis by the time I was four and on a snowboard by the time I was six. The classic thing where my dad made me ski first. But since the fifth grade, when I started hitting the parks, my whole life was snowboarding. I started off a Hyland kid, then I became an Elm Creek kid. I lived in the suburbs right between them. I mainly identify as an Elm Creek kid because that’s where I spent most of my teenage years. But I was eighteen or nineteen when I started coming out. I was in college.
M Do you feel differently as a snowboarder since you came out?
C I’m definitely more comfortable meeting new people. There were a couple weird limbo years when I first started coming out when all my close friends at college in Duluth knew, but I hadn’t come out publicly. I was one of those guys that said, “I never want to come out publicly or online.” I don’t know why, there’s no good reason why. Now I’m super gay online. But in that limbo period I went on a trip for a Snowboy Event in Pine Knob with snowboarders who were from outside of my crew. It was called the Knob project, this was 2018 or 2019 maybe, and I kind of went back in the closet because I didn’t know how to navigate it. I was meeting new people, but I wasn’t saying “Hey I’m Casey and I’m gay.” I was just being a bro on hill. The people I drove there with knew but we didn’t talk about it much.
M That’s funny you say going back in the closet, I think that’s not uncommon. It’s not always as simple as just coming out like some people think.
C It definitely takes a few years to fully be out, to be comfortable in your skin.
M Do you feel a difference now between riding or filming with a queer crew versus a mostly straight crew?
C Yes. I think I like a mixture of both. It’s been the story of my life, battling my identity as a gay man. As I was coming out, I was often only hanging out with friends who were girls, and I started to feel like I needed some balance, like I need to go hangout with my bro friends. Now, I feel like I have a bit of that in the snowboarding world. Partially that’s because my straight snowboard friends are the ones who raised me, I came out to them and they accepted me and I love them for that. These are my friends from junior high, high school, college. I would never want to only snowboard with queer people and to lose them. But there is a difference in the dynamic. The banter with queer friends is more energetic, and also gay. But then again, I hit spots with The Impaler crew and Riddles this winter and I would joke to them, “y’all are just as weird as my queer friends.” They have their own quirks and if you see them behind the scenes they’re just as goofy, just in a different way.
M What about if you’re tossed into a crew with people you don’t necessarily know well?
C Yeah, I suppose. I went to the Vans Hi-Standard contest. That felt like getting thrown into it. It was scary going into a contest with all those guys, competing against Jed Anderson and other big names. But we’re competing too so it’s a different vibe.
M Do you think being known prominently as a gay snowboarder affects the way you're perceived by snowboarding?
C I think locally I had made a name for myself, or gained some respect, by the time I came out. So maybe that made it easier for me to navigate coming out, locally. But in contrast, as I was coming out, I was getting in more videos and getting more exposure. There was a dynamic there where I was wondering, am I getting this exposure because I’m gay? Or because of my snowboarding? The truth is it’s probably a mixture of both. But it depends on how you present. I sometimes get doubts when I tell people I’m gay. And it gets annoying because you’re constantly coming out all over again.
M When someone is proud of their sexuality, it’s still common to hear the “who cares?” response, particularly from people who are certain that snowboarding is already a really welcoming place because they haven’t experienced discrimination.
C Well, my answer is that I think it definitely matters. Sometimes I hear queer people say, “my queerness doesn’t define me,” but for me, I think it does. It changes my whole outlook on life, my culture. It changes my approach to snowboarding. And really, if it didn’t matter, then we wouldn’t have been in the closet all those years. Going forward, I think the more Queer Visibility, the better.
M Do you still feel pressured by snowboarding to be the “right amount” of queer?
C Definitely. But also, I’m guilty as charged. I’m good at navigating that. Queer people, growing up in the closet, we’re good at mimicking what society wants us to be, wants us to look like. So sometimes I’m following that. But also, I have fun with it. I love wearing my butch outfits. But lately, I’ve been dressing in these butch outfits, but I’ll throw in something queer. Like a backwards baseball cap that says “faggot” on it. At first glance my look matches the straight snowboarding scene, but with a little bit of flair. I have to feel good to look good. But I do look forward to experimenting. I have some mesh tank-tops, a kind of Tom of Finland [A cult-famous artist known for masculine and homoerotic art] style thing, and I’ve been waiting for a nice slushy day where I can get a clip on a snowboard wearing a mesh tank top.
Casey, backlip. Photo by Mariah Crabb
M Do you ever feel a pressure to be the “queer snowboarder” and not just someone who snowboards?
C Maybe a little bit. But at times I like being the queer snowboarder. Like I’ve been able to snowboard with a lot of girl gangs. I really bond with them, groups like Too Hard, Sensesse, and the Canadian girls. You know that’s the perk of being the gay snowboarder. I get to ride with those groups. I feel welcome with them. And I love snowboarding with them. The first girl gang I rode with was Too Hard back in the day. I love girl’s or femme snowboarding right now. The music, the editing, the style. Like I’m in love with what Sensesse is doing right now.
M I agree, women’s snowboarding has some amazing things going on right now. But at the same time, it feels like mainstream snowboarding has kind of moved on from queer or other marginalized groups in snowboarding after 2020 and 2021. Do you feel like there’s been a lull in queer representation?
C Absolutely. And I’m not alone. I’ve talked to Tanner Pendleton about it, I talk to J. Deforge about it all the time. Everyone is feeling, kind of – jaded is maybe the word? The excitement is just not there right now for queer snowboarding. As you know I’ve moved on from the Pink Dollar Possy, that might be a part of it, but that’s much more recent. You know I’m so busy in the summer that I’m not really thinking about snowboarding then. So I’m guilty of not putting enough energy into snowboarding-focused pride. Last year I went to the local gay bar, does that count? We should create a pride focused day or month in the winter for snowboarding.
M If I had all the money in the world I would have a pride-focused event at Timberline during pride month.
C Yes, that should be a thing! Snowboy Productions did the Duh! Event last year, which was a queer focused event. But really, it feels like we’re all busy during the summer.
M At the same time, there hasn’t been much impetus from the industry either. I wonder sometimes if there is cross-generational tension when it comes to pride in snowboarding. Do you feel that?
C Yes, definitely. Being around old-heads, I always feel I have to test the waters. I have to dance around certain subjects because you’re scared to piss them off. But I will say that in high school and college I was flow on Academy Snowboards so Chad Otterstrom was my TM. He could be called an old-head, and he is such a great dude. He knew I was gay I’m pretty sure, but never treated me different. Shout out to Chad <3.
M When you watch older snowboarding, do you feel an affinity to it?
C Well, my favourite thing about watching older videos is knowing they were shot on film. That blows my mind, how they were able to get the shots with only a certain amount of film. That’s why I praise the old videos. But I’m not at home worshiping old videos. I can’t even keep up with today’s videos.
M Do you ever feel like queer snowboarding is a bit objectified by the brands?
C I don’t know if I have a good opinion on that, what you’d call tokenism. It’s a tough subject. Sometimes I’m like “I’ll be a token, hook me up!” But in the long run that never feels good. It’s all about the intention. You hope the brand is supporting you because they support your snowboarding. Wanting more representation is a good intention, right?
From Minnesota with love. Photo by Jack Hessler
M I guess part of the advantage of a queer focused group like Pink Dollar Possy [PDP] is there can’t really be tokenism because it’s all queer. But you’re no longer a part of PDP now though, right?
C Correct, I’ve moved on from PDP, I’m not involved anymore, and I don’t plan on being involved in the future.
M Do you have a plan for who you’re riding with in the future? Are you planning on living in Minnesota long term?
C I feel like right now I’m floating. I don’t mind that. I’m kind of crew hopping, people might frown on that, but I don’t care. I do daydream about moving. But it’s hard to get out of Minnesota. I feel fortunate to have been able to travel a bunch, with help from companies and in saving up my own money. If I ever move, I really like L.A. It’s not good for street snowboarding.
M Oh interesting! There are some snowboarders there.
C Yes, and the magazines are close by. But I like L.A. because of the queer community. In L.A., snowboarding in Bear Mountain, spring conditions all season, it sounds amazing. But I like Minnesota.
M Do you feel pressure to move?
C Yes. A little bit. I hear people say all the time, “if you want to make it you have to move out west.” Unless you’re Mike Liddle.
M Regardless of where you go, it feels like there’s room for queer groups now, with PDP not being what it was.
C Yes absolutely. Let’s see some more queer crews. From anywhere, the States, Canada, Europe. We need more. But, you know, there’s no rules to it. Have fun, do what you want to do. Don’t stress out about it too much. Maybe that’s my problem. We tried to make it a big thing when we should’ve just been focusing on having fun snowboarding.
M What do you think snowboarding needs to get us through this lull right now?
C Maybe we need a queer owned brand. I envy skateboarding because they have brands like Unity & There Skateboards, queer focused companies. It’s so sick that it exists. With PDP we were just selling merch. Is there a queer snowboard company right now?
M Not that I know of. What else could be done? By brands or by riders or by the media?
C Imagine if there was a queer snowboard company that actually made snowboards and could flow people snowboards. But that is a hard industry to get into. I’m not a businessman, so it won’t be me. But also there’s a lot of room for the current brands. They need some pride boards or something specifically queer focused, like queer graphics. Some brands, like K2, are doing great. Burton seems to be killing it, they have a very diverse, exciting team. As for pro snowboarders, I don’t know. What could they do? Be good allies I guess. The media should make sure they do something for Pride each year. There was a crazy time where PDP had interview after interview. Then the attention dropped off. But also, it felt like we said the same thing every time by the end. What else could we have said? But maybe there’s some other queer snowboarders out there they should be talking to.
Jonathan Van Elslander is is a writer and snowboarder, as well as the editor of The Margin. Originally from Winnipeg, Manitoba, he has lived and boarded around British Columbia for the last ten years.
Jack Hessler is a snowboarder, film/tv editor, and photographer. You can find him on Instagram @jah_he
Mariah Crabb is a photographer. You can find them on Instagram @mariah.crabb.photography