The Problem of Being (Seemingly) Immortal
As I drive toward the jagged peaks in the distance, snow slowly drifting down to the frozen ground, a tinge of guilt enters my mind. I think about other friends in my community who have died doing exactly what I am about to do. They weren't so lucky. I can't help thinking, 'I might be next .' Flashes of adrenaline-filled media clips take over in my head. I daydream of catapulting myself off of backcountry ski jumps and cliffs, flying through the sky like the hand-built drones I've engineered to capture my experiences. I admire the mountains as I drive up their steep passes. An article that my dad emailed me, entitled Another One Dies, snaps me back to the very real possibility of my early demise. What would my friends and family do if I were to meet my death today? Growing up in a small mountain town has made it easy to participate in various sports, many extreme and dangerous. Skiing, biking and whitewater kayaking, are just a few of the sports that are not only getting more popular, but more intense. People are increasingly pushing the boundaries of what they can do with these sports, and so the activities become more treacherous. These "extreme" sports are what I grew up seeing and doing. Most of my peers have, too. We compete with one another, trying to go as fast as we can down the mountain, or as high as we can off a jump. Last year, inspired by a recent video about the land speed record on skis, I hit over 75 miles an hour, rocketing down the mountain on my trusty wooden planks strapped to my feet. Extreme sports are getting more exposure through media. It is the claimed golden age of visual storytelling. One can easily find sport videos posted on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Instead of trying to "out-trick" and "out-do" my local peers, I am now competing against the world. When someone posts a video of a new ski trick to Facebook, naturally, I strive to do it better. Media fed adrenaline junkies are more prevalent than ever, and unfortunately, so are deaths. Three people my age in my small mountain town of Durango, Colorado, have passed away, so have many of my international idols. It's up to my generation to challenge preconceived beliefs of immortality. To do this, we must actively recognize dangers by making them obvious to the public. Pushing comfort zones is common amongst us. Living in an active town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains feeds my generation's inspiration and thirst for adrenaline. However, "reality checks" do happen when a young person dies. Our challenge is to break away from social media, because it unrealistically feeds our adrenaline and masks the inherent dangers by glorifying extremes. I want to prevent running into my friends with grief stricken tears from a call that a sibling has died in an avalanche, or from my family getting a call that a friend's mother needs support because her college aged son has died in a climbing accident, fifteen years after her husband died in a kayaking accident. I am determined to solve this large disturbing problem that affects my life and local community. By separating myself from the media and encouraging others to do the same, we can then experience our activities on our own terms without comparison to other people and potentially dangerous circumstances. I want to keep friends from passing away and have them recognize the dangers of trying to replicate the extreme sport media clips. To address this problem, I intend to suggest to the media companies that they incorporate a disclaimer warning of risks, even in personal social media posts. Instead of glorifying extremes, we need to make media more real. It would be devastating to face another avoidable death among my friends. |