Aggie’s Love Letter To KCDC
words and photos by aggie lesser.
My first day working at KCDC was October 14th, 2022.
Prior to my employment I had spent a lot of time there; whether it was getting a new board, grabbing lunch with Abi from the deli, or just hanging around waiting for my friends to show up, I always found myself at KCDC. I was still in Graduate school at the time, and would sit outside and do my homework. Eventually I’d give up on the prospect of getting any work done, and hang out with whoever until the night was over. I remember the first time Nate asked me if I wanted to mop the floor at the end of the night. I was ecstatic to mop, for a minute it felt like I was a part of their family.
From the very first day I knew I was going to have a permanent family, a permanent home. At the time, I was coming out of a pretty gnarly depression, and was dealing with a lot of uncertainty in my life. Working retail was an adjustment for sure; after months of feeling down, I was thrown into an environment in which everyone had to be face-to-face with strangers on a daily basis.
There are times in a person's life when they need other people, they need a community, they need a family. For some, this can mean a chosen family, and for others, this can mean family by blood. For me, the lines between a family by blood and a chosen family are blurred. Although I was fortunate enough to grow up in a loving home, there were times when I felt alone and isolated from those who shared the same DNA as me - like they didn’t understand me. In times like these, I had to find solace in my chosen family. I was, and am still fortunate enough to continuously find safety, support, and love within our KCDC family.
I never doubted my coworkers’ support for me. When I felt I had no one, I went to the shop. I knew I was safe there, I knew I would find community and support there. Although we don’t have a physical meeting space, we all continue to find ways to actively support one another from afar, or wherever we are. We’re still a family, even if we don’t see each other everyday.
KCDC is family for a lot of people. Not only employees, but folks who feel distant from others within the skateboarding community. My fondest memories of 80 N 3rd are days when folks would pull up just to hang out, letting us employees know they felt safe in our presence and safe within our shop. Yes, this is partially due to us, the employees, trying to make it known that everyone is safe at KCDC, but also due to Amy’s continuous effort to have a haven for people who may not feel safe in typical skateboarding environments.
Without Amy there is no KCDC, you can’t have one without the other. I remember my interview for the job was over facetime with Amy. I was so nervous to talk to her, I kept saying to myself, “If I can make her laugh, I can get the job.” Within the first few minutes we were laughing together, it’s nothing compared to the way we laugh together now, but it was a start. We met in person a few weeks later. The day we met I was struggling with some personal issues. Not wanting to bring anything into work, I sat down on the basement stairs to try and calm myself down. To my surprise, Amy sat down next to me and asked me what was going on. She put her palm on the center of my back and listened. She barely knew me, but she listened. From that day on I knew I had someone who would always have my back, no matter what.
I learned a lot about what it means to be a human being at KCDC. Early on in my job, Amy taught me to treat everyone with kindness. She taught me to meet people where they are because, at the end of the day, you never really know where that person is coming from or where they’re going. There are days when it’s really hard to give someone grace. Amy taught me to push through that feeling and allow myself to give grace anyway, even if they don’t deserve it in the moment. Amy is not only an incredible boss but an incredible person. I feel very fortunate to have had her as my boss and to have her as my friend.
A week before the shop closed I was with Abi in her car on North 3rd Street. I can’t remember if we were just sitting there trolling on our phones or talking about some bullshit but one of us turned to the other and said,
“Where are we gonna go now?”
“Huh?”
“Like when the shop closes? Where are we gonna go?”
It’s now been close to three months since KCDC closed, and I still am asking myself this question. I don’t know where to go, I don’t know where we should all gather to begin or end our days. All I know is this is not the end of KCDC. Yes we have lost the physical gathering space, but we have lost the storefront element before and prevailed through.
The physical being of KCDC may seem like the most community-based element, but to me, what is the most influential are the multiple messages Amy and other employees push out through the KCDC brand itself. Amy has dedicated her brand to being as inclusive as it can be by highlighting queer and young upcoming artists for guest graphics or hosting events that bring our massive KCDC family together. This message of inclusivity will continue on even without the physical space, and I know Amy and other shop employees will continue to discover new ways to promote that message.
This is not the end for KCDC, but rather a moment to gather our thoughts and think about the next move. While sitting in the unknown is uncomfortable and may seem scary, I encourage everyone to think about the impact KCDC has had on NYC skateboarding and the trials and tribulations the brand has been through in the past; if we can get through that shit, we can get through anything.
Whenever I feel sad or anxious about this place being gone, I think of my fondest memories at KCDC and know this is not the end. I think about the skate sesh we'd have right outside the shop, skating a rail, a bench, even a fucking cone at one point. I think about the first night I did inventory with Amy and Elisa and we all peed our pants laughing. I think about the late nights at the shop after an event, all of us employees sitting inside debriefing from the crazy antics of the night. I think about Nate and I watching Home Alone 3 on the projector on Christmas Eve (sorry Amy.) I think about Corey and Natalie and I being stressed out of our minds and then suddenly Pippa the neighborhood dog comes in and we’re healed.. I think about how lucky I was to get to work with my best friend in the whole world, and how I miss the days where it would just be Abi and I on the sales floor. Mostly, I think about all of the kids who came into the shop, ecstatic for a new board. They’d revive us in the middle of the day. Filled with childlike wonder, they’d lose their minds at elements of skating that we had all gotten used to. It was a constant reminder of how lucky we are to work at KCDC, and to give someone the opportunity to fall in love with something, to fall in love with skateboarding. We’d always be left beaming after those interactions, knowing we may have just changed someone's life. I know those kids will be talking about KCDC for the rest of their lives. When I think about all of this, I know this is not the end of KCDC. Rather just a new beginning, a different type of beginning.
