Falling to the floor in the most spectacular fashion in front of others doesn't embarrass Calvin Nguyen.
"My friends are there, and we are going to make fun of each other, but we are also going to skate together, and I love it!" Nguyen said.
Nguyen, 26, started roller skating several months ago to shed some pandemic pounds.
"The first time ever, I felt like a newborn fawn," Nguyen said. "I was falling all over the place, and as terrible as it was, it was a lot of fun, too!"
There weren't any rinks near the rural Indiana town where he grew up, so learning to skate opened a new chapter for him. And while it started as a way to get more active, that's changed.
"Now it's about the community," Nguyen said. "My friends and I can just go out and skate. We don't have to go out and be at a bar every single time."
Nguyen is one of the regulars at Adult Night at Skate Luvers Roller Palace on Adirondack Street in Rochester.
The crowd inside, all socially distanced and masked, is like no other. It's diverse, lively, and full of people of all skill levels. It's one of the few places to see a Gen Zer and a Boomer enjoying the same activity together.
And you'll almost always see a skinny guy on leather skates wearing a flap cap, gliding back and forth from the DJ booth to concessions.
That's the owner, Matt Singleton, and you can tell how much he loves skating. He has his hand on every point of the operation, but he still consistently makes time to skate with customers.
"Skating has come a long way, but I realize it's a place that I embrace because it allows you to be yourself," Singleton said.
The 58-year-old has been skating longer than some of his customers have been alive.
He makes it look easy, twisting and turning as he skates circles around people decades younger than him.
Singleton grew up in Rochester during the heyday of roller skating -- in the 1970s, when rinks were open all over the city. He said skating at the various rinks kept him out of trouble.
"I remember Tommy's Olympic, USA, Skate town, Miracle's," he said. "'For a teenager, it was like a nightclub."
Singleton fondly remembers preparing for nights to skate at Olympic Amusement Park .
"You got to wear the right gear," he said. "If it's a bunch of y'all, get your skate moves down because everybody's going to come to see the show."
Roller skating has been around since the 18th century, but its biggest wave of popularity was in the 1970s, with disco music as its backdrop.
It started losing steam by the early 1990s as rinks across the U.S. closed by the masses. The real estate market, tax increases, and zoning changes took out many struggling rinks. Today, many big-box stores stand where a roller rink once thrived. In Rochester, the former location of the United States of America rink, also known as USA, is now a Home Depot.
There were once seven rinks in the greater Rochester area, taking in hundreds of customers on any given night. Now there are only two: Skate Luvers and Horizon Fun FX.
Singleton said he remembers a time when families skated together. He's trying to restore that with his business by giving young people an outlet to keep them off the streets. Over the years, he has been a mentor to many, connecting with kids through skating.
He foresaw the resurgence of skating in the early 2000s and opened Skate Luvers in 2011 in downtown Rochester. It moved to a more prominent location on Adirondack Street in 2018.
Singleton credits popular media for introducing skating to a younger generation.
"When 'Roll Bounce' and 'ATL' came out, it really did a lot for the skate world," Singleton said, referring to films that came out in 2005 and 2006.
He's now among a generation of older skaters who are dedicated to keeping the culture alive.
Those skaters include Bettie Pain, who has become Rochester's honorary skate mom. The 45-year-old came to Rochester in August 2020 for a fresh start after serving time in prison.
She said there was a lot to take in.
"There was a toilet paper shortage I didn't know about; there were murder hornets," Pain said. "2020 was a screwed-up year not to know anything. But the weirdest thing was getting out, and there's a whole bunch of people on roller skates!"
Pain grew up skating at parks in Brooklyn. She describes the culture then as segregated, similar to a high school cafeteria.
"Skaters stand here. Roller skaters stand here. Scooter kid, we don't even see you," said Pain, who described Rochester's skate scene as more welcoming.
While working in the back counter making custom skates for people at Krudco Skate shop, Pain quickly immersed herself in Rochester's skate community. She began hosting social events she calls "rollouts" and invited anyone on wheels to join.
In less than a year, the high demand for roller skates led Pain to open her shop, Bruised Brigade, on Howell Street.
Business is great, but Pain said there's a more important goal.
"It's community first, retail second," she said. "You got to take care of your community. If you don't take care of your community, you might as well just shut your door."
Pain's energy and whimsical presence attract skaters from near and far to her shop. She's a recovering alcoholic who never shies away from her past, allowing her to connect with the many young people she surrounds.
Liam Kane purchased his first pair of skates from Pain in 2020. They developed a friendship, and Kane is now a Bruised Brigade employee learning how to customize skates.
Kane, 25, said he hopes to get into the roller skating business, a career he would never have considered before this year.
"It keeps me happy. That's something that I need in life. It's almost like medicine," he said.
Clara Matton went to Bruised Brigade to customize her dream skates. The 21-year-old picked up roller skating during the height of the pandemic in April 2020. Matton said the once very physical activity has grown into a bonding one.
"I still take those bad falls, and it still does beat me up," said Matton, pointing to her bruised legs. "But I'm doing that all right alongside all my best friends."
Whether it's the rink, derby, or skatepark, there's a magic about roller skating that brings people together.
"It's expanded my social circle," Matton said. "I'm hanging out with people of every race, every gender identity. Everyone can come there and feel like it's a safe space."
Pain said Rochester has a unique skate community like no other.
"It's about each person, when you land that trick or when you stand up for the first time. Or when you do that one thing that scared the hell out of you," Pain said. It's that group behind you that's like, 'We got our hands at your back, man. You got this!'"
