TransWorld SKATEboarding Volume 16, Number 6
Kareem Campbell Pro Spotlight
Imagine for one moment that you’re royalty. Let’s say you’re a prince. The whole world listens to you, and 99 percent of them believe every word you say. You see, princes carry a lot of clout. However, there’s this other measly one percent made up of the rest of the royalty in the world. Those few guys know the ropes, and they see how full of it you really are when you try to tell everybody else why you’re the best. Princes sometimes lie.
Years ago, World Industries lost Kareem Campbell for two reasons: He was still a bright-eyed amateur entering the ranks of the big-time pros—a ghetto kid suddenly surrounded by heroes. A few months prior he would’ve been asking for their autographs, now he was shoulder to shoulder with them. Then it all ended. His future was damned by someone’s whimsical ways. And why? Because, like princes, heroes sometimes lie.
I didn’t understand, and I still have a hard time grasping why he didn’t point out the liar who framed him into a dilemma that left his career for dead. Kareem easily could have exposed the truth, but he went merrily along his way. You see, I was the team captain—his future was in my hands. Kareem was being accused, yet he wouldn’t defend himself because he saw it as a breach of his integrity to "rat out" the guy who framed him. This guy was one of Kareem’s heroes. Beyond even that, he was his friend. Kareem bowed out, and I reluctantly let him go, because the tailored story pinpointed him as the bad guy. Meanwhile, liars continued to prosper. That was years ago, and to this day, they still prosper.
Sometimes it’s hard to cope with knowing the truth, seeing good guys held captive by lies and the people who profit from them. All you can do is recognize it for all it is, and try to surround yourself with the ones who haven’t conveniently buried their character. That’s what Kareem has done. He never lashed out. He stayed true to his skating and true to himself. Today he has become one of the most revered people in skateboarding. Companies seek his help over anyone else’s, even when Kareem has nothing to do with their business. And countless riders have been taken under his wing or given a home on his couch. It’s practically unheard of for anyone to command that kind of respect and loyalty from the riders, as well as in the corporate echelons.
I think back through my eighteen years of professional skateboarding and try to count the true legends of our sport. I come up almost empty-handed. Well, there’s Tony Hawk … I don’t mean just "heroes" or pioneers, but guys who changed our world by not only what they did, but who they were. In all honesty, Kareem Campbell isn’t a legend; he’s still got some work to do, and he knows it. Yet if there’s anyone I see on that path, it’s Kareem. He has more power, finesse, style, and raw determination than almost anyone I can think of. His amazing creative drive is easily quantifiable; it’s made Axion Shoes what it is today—that speaks for itself. He has a blinding charisma that can make even the most reasonable people follow him right into the depths of hell.
Beyond that, Kareem is a leader, because people sense his integrity. He’s successful, yet his sense of honor towers over his will to succeed. But most importantly, he has a heart of gold. He is a man of his word, and he is a man of action. If it came down to it, I would unquestionably entrust my life in his hands.
—Rodney Mullen
Interview by Atiba Jefferson
Where were you born?
Harlem, New York. I’ve been living out here in L.A. for half my life.
When did you first start coming out here?
The first time I ever came out, I was six. Since then, I’ve just been going back and forth.
Did you go to high school in L.A.?
Yeah. I did a lot of my schooling out here. I’d go to school here and eventually get kicked out, or go to jail, or whatever. So my mom would ship me back to New York. I’d go there, make no progress, then I’d move back.
Did you graduate from high school?
Yeah, you got to graduate for your parents. And it’s good to have a little bit of education.
Which high school did you graduate from?
Fairfax. I got kicked out of everywhere else, so I ended up at Fairfax.
What were you getting in trouble for?
Mostly young-kid stuff—stealing, fighting, anything mischievous that a normal little kid does. Then, just by hanging out with older people, I got into harder things, like selling drugs, stealing cars, anything I could think of.
Were you skating when all that was going on?
No, I was doing all that before I was even skating. I was young. I was like eleven years old—starting to be a little wild kid, making money.
How old were you when you started selling drugs?
About twelve.
What drugs?
Crack, weed, not so much weed. I was just trying to fit in with the rest of the kids, the lifestyle, and the culture I was put in. Living in the ghetto, it seems like all your friends are doing it and they’re all making money. I just wanted to be with them, have fun, go places, feel like somebody. It’s a bullshit ghetto life, and I’m not proud of it, I’m just stating the facts.
How did that affect your skating? Did that make you want to work harder in skateboarding?
It helped my skating by giving me a sense of business—getting used to the hustle of things. Skateboarding is like everything else, you’ve got to go out there and be out there all the time to sell skateboards. And you’ve got to go out in the streets to sell drugs. It’s all about the people you know. The higher your contacts are, the higher you get in the industry. I’ve just kind of treated everything the same my whole life—it’s all a hustle.
So, how old were you when you started skating?
I was sixteen. I started late in the game.
How did you get into it?
My friend used to skate to get around when he was selling drugs. The next thing I knew, I was skating more—for fun. It was one of those things like, whoa, you’re challenged.
Right about then, I was with Danny Castillo, Davey, this kid Mick, and this other kid Tony Kelly. They showed me a Powell [Peralta] video with Ray Barbee in it; that’s what really got me. Being a little hood kid, that was the first time I’d ever seen him. It looked like he had real style; that’s when I really took an interest in the sport, and I did well in it.
Who was your first sponsor?
It was SMA/World Industries. Right after I got on, we went and entered a Powell contest. It was our [SMA/World’s] first contest ever and we all won our divisions. It was pretty wild.
Do you remember who you skated against in that contest? Are any of them still around now?
Basically, my whole life I’ve been skating with the same people. I remember Frank Hirata, Adam McNatt, Rick Howard, Willy Santos, Kris Markovich, Salman Agah. I can think of a million names, ’cause it was one of those turning points in skating. We were the next generation coming up. It seems like through the whole period of my skate career, it’s been the same group of people—we all grew up as a family.
After the contest, Todd Hastings and Ray Barbee came up to me. It was one of the first times I’d ever met Ray. They told me they wanted to pick me up for Powell. It was kind of tempting for me. Ray coming up to me put an extra spin on it. Also Powell’s team had guys on it like Rudy [Johnson], Gabriel [Rodriguez], Guy [Mariano], all the heads, and a lot of them were coming out of this area [L.A.], too. I never really knew them or nothing, but I knew of them.
I ended up staying with World, though. That’s where my loyalty was. That’s where my heart was.
After you started skating, did you think you would go pro one day?
Nah. I was trying to be happy. I didn’t really know about the industry, I never knew about the real political industry part of it until I was already caught up in the middle of it. I didn’t even know how you "go" pro. I just thought you had to be an amazing skater, and it was the company’s job to put you out there. I learned all about it later, but at the very beginning, I knew nothing of it.
When did you first turn pro?
It was weird, I entered one of those NSA things, did well—I can’t remember exactly what place I got—then I went on tour with World. I remember having to leave tour to go back to the NSA finals somewhere, but Rocco just said, "Hey, you’ve shown enough, you’ve done enough—going to demos, entering contests—you’re pro." He turned me pro right then and there.
How old where you then?
I think I was nineteen, and I was trying to show the company that I was really loyal to it.
Did you get paid as an am?
No.
So when you became pro, were you psyched to get money?
Yeah. But what it came down to is whoever’s board was selling was getting paid. When I turned pro, I didn’t have a model out, and I wasn’t going to have a model out until the end of Christmas, three months later. I didn’t have a board, but they were giving me 300 bucks [a month]; I was happy with that. Plus, I had the normal money I would make on the streets.
So you were still hustling when you turned pro?
Yeah, you could say that in so many ways. I had the right connections, so I could hook up and make money when I needed it.
Then I went on this tour right before December with [Steve] Berra, [Mike] Carroll, [Randy] Colvin, Jovantae [Turner], [Sean] Sheffey, and Jordan [Richter]. That was my second tour ever. It was the first time I’d been around those skateboard pro guys and all that. I was kind of tripped out on it, because I was psyched to be on tour with them. Basically, that tour turned out to be the turning point of my life.
How’s that?
I’d met Berra a few weeks before we left. His board was coming out around the same time as mine. I used to pick him up from Natas’ house and skate with him, because he didn’t know anyone. So we did that for a while, and then I hooked him up so he could go on this tour. It was weird, though, a lot of people were dissing on him for going on the tour—I didn’t know he was already caught up in this whole mixed-up world of politics and rivalry—but he just took it and went anyway.
Then, within the mix of the tour, I began see people turn on others who showed them a lot of respect. So, Berra was getting beat down with all this verbal, then he would turn around and verbally abuse me. Being young, I didn’t see it. But I can’t front, I have a temper. So when I’d catch him doing it, I would kind of spurt out shit, too.
Things got more tense as the tour went on, and by the time we reached Florida, they [World] were going to take me off the tour. I was ready to fight Jordan. I was so close to fighting Berra. To top if off, I got accused of stealing some money that belonged to the tour, which was bullshit. I lost my wallet somewhere in Texas with the money in it, and my license, everything.
But that’s when I started to see who was who. People started turning on me—"Oh, he stole the money, he did this, he did that." I was tripped out. So at the next stop, I sold the fifteen boards I had with me, and paid back the 400 dollars I was being accused of stealing. Still, though, I heard a few people saying, "Oh yeah, where did the money go?" That was some wild shit coming from people who were being really cool with me a minute ago. But I played it off.
So, it all came down to the day of the Jovantae scenario. I was leaving the tour the next day, and everybody was up in our room. Berra was still f—king with me, saying, "I’m happy you’re going home. How does it feel?" We were all young, and people do some stupid shit when they’re young. I told him, "You need to break the f—k out before something crazy happens." He went over and sat on Jovantae’s bed. I guess Berra and Jovantae were having problems, too. I’m not exactly sure [over what], but Jovantae ended up saying something like, " … white asshole." Some shit like that. Then Berra was like, "Cool of a black guy to say that." Then Jovantae snapped. Jovantae stepped up and smacked Berra twice.
Berra just got up and said, "Why’d you do that? Why’d you do that?" I just stood there, shocked. Berra broke out the next day—called Natas and left. Through trials and tribulations you learn how people are.
How did Blue come about?
After that tour, World wanted to take my 300 bucks a month away. Jason Lee was having problems at World, too, so he was leaving, and he approached me about doing a new company with Brad Dorfman from Vision. I was like, "I’m with it." Plus, the money situation kind of cooled my heart to World. Right after that [World] tour, my whole life had gone haywire, and I knew it wasn’t gonna work out. I was never into the bullshit skateboarding industry that a lot of people liked so much. So I called Rodney and told him things weren’t going to work out. I went with Jason and Dune [Chris Pastras], and we started Blue.
Right about then, I started putting it down, making a mark for myself. We were selling a lot of boards, and people started realizing, "Hey, this kid [Kareem] is putting it on; he’s really able to make moves." When you can make something move, you have power in so many ways.
How long did Blue last?
Blue lasted for a year. I got on in January, went to the trade show that February, then we went on tour all around the world. After I went on tour with them, I realized Brad was robbing us. Plus we were on this nightmare tour in Italy with the Marcos brothers [Italian skateboard distributors]. Those motherf—kers were starving us, having us sleep in their house, running us all around Italy. I’d wake up in the morning with a video camera in my face, little riders snatching our boards, sleeping at skateparks. Man, that shit was rotten! So a few months after we got back, I quit. I guess I was on [Blue] for about eight months.
Is that what made you leave Blue?
All that, plus I was having a real bad time with Jason. He and I had started the company. I had ideas about how I’d like to see the company—its image—and Jason didn’t like them. All my ideas were being edged out. It was just weird because Dune and I came up with the name Blue, but I got pushed out of that whole deal. On top of that, Brad was just plain funny with money. So I broke out. I went back to New York and chilled out.
How long were you in New York?
For like a year.
Were you skating?
I was just chillin’.
Were you hustling?
Yeah, just trying to survive. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m Scarface or somethin’.
So then what?
Daniel Castillo called my crib—we were always keeping in contact. He found out I wasn’t hooked up with anybody and leaked it to Rodney. Then Rodney called me up out of the blue, he wanted to see how I was doing. He asked if I was still skating. I lied and said, "Yeah, whatever." I wasn’t skating, though. But you never really leave skateboarding, especially once you have it in your heart.
Rodney, told me, "Hey, if you ever come back to L.A., give me a ring." Rodney always had thoughts of me getting back on World one day. Then, it was kind of weird, the next day I got a couple of things together, put them in a backpack, and flew out to L.A. I bought a bullshit Rabbit car for like a thousand bucks. Then I went and talked to Rodney.
Was it weird going back?
It was weird. All the people, like Shiloh [Greathouse], who I helped get on [World] were on and I wasn’t. Then there were certain people who didn’t want me on. It wasn’t necessarily a company that you would want to ride for, but I went and skated with everybody, and I guess everyone thought that my ability wasn’t gone.
Did you miss it during the time you spent in New York?
When I saw it, I would miss it. Like every time I saw anyone with a skateboard, saw a movie with a skateboarder in it, saw a magazine—I was still looking at magazines, and so on. But in Harlem, there weren’t too many places to skate, so I just missed it when I saw or talked about it; I didn’t really miss it in the form of, "Oh, I need to skate, I need to skate." The industry had given me such a turn, that I didn’t really care for it. It was weird, coming from the street, you stand up and the people you know have to stand by you. But in the [skateboard] industry, it’s like every man for himself and the money.
Say two people are walking down the street, and they find a million dollars. They both put their hand on it. Are they gonna split it, or are they gonna fight for it? In the streets they’d split it—not in the industry, though.
When you got back on World, was that the dawn of the New World Order [a mid-90s World Industries advertising campaign]?
Yeah.
Were you psyched?
Yeah, I was psyched just to be hooked up, back with the homies, and all that. I had to go to New York to get the rest of my stuff.
Yeah, that’s good. So you like doing demos and stuff like that?
I love some, hate some, I’m not gonna lie. But by meeting new people, you’re always going to meet somebody who’s gonna cheer you up or just put a smile on your face. In a way, every demo turns out to be fun, because you’ve got to make the best out of wherever you’re at.
Do you like contests?
Truthfully, I don’t like contests, because 90 percent of them aren’t organized. You go to a contest with so-and-so judging—you know, Swanson and Johnson—they don’t know shit. Contest, what does that mean? You basically skate your four minutes and stay on your board. Ten ollies and one grind down a rail—you’re top five. Two kickflips, a switchflip, fall on four other tricks, and end up dead last. Contests suck.
What’s the hardest thing to deal with being a pro skater?
Shady companies. If you’re a professional, what does that mean? It means you get money. In skating, how much money you’re getting and what you deserve and all that, that part is so shady. I’m not going to lie to you, though, I get paid. But I make sure I get paid. I travel a lot, I do other things to make sure I get paid.
You’re running your own company now.
Yeah, Axion and All-City. I’m learning the business. I’ve built it on a foundation, so when someone tries to step up and break it down, it won’t happen. Now, that I have a foundation, I can give the people with me what I feel I should give them. It makes them feel solid, like someone’s got their back. So if they go out and break themselves for the company and get really hurt, they aren’t getting kicked off and forgotten about.
It seems like a lot of companies don’t look out for their skaters’ physical health?
Some companies don’t even tell you when they give you checks that there’s no tax taken out. There’s so many shady things. They just put you in this position: here’s all the money, here’s all the travel, here’s all these good things. But then it’s like: "Well, are these good things or bad things?" Oh well, that’s your responsibility. Well, if you throw two-grand and responsibility into the hands of a sixteen year old, you know what you can make out of that—hard times for the future. I think a lot of these companies don’t realize that they’re ruining these kids’ lives. They’re not going to school, they’re living some fantasy of being a superstar.
I think everybody, no matter what they do, should be able to know exactly what they’re dealing with. When they get their check, ask how much it is; they need to know much it is with taxes taken out, or if taxes are even taken out. Companies don’t do that. But then all the pros whine because their sponsor isn’t giving them enough money. Sometimes money isn’t the best thing—benefits are better. I’ve got medical, I’ve got it all. I'd rather get paid less and get more benefits. I work it so I can say, "All right, this is how much I get paid after I pay this much in taxes." You have to know how much you’re worth in the end.
Does running those companies take out of your skateboarding time?
Truthfully, yeah. Anything you do is gonna take out of your skateboarding time—sometimes at the most crucial times, too. It’s all about learning how to deal with your responsibilities. Look how long it took me to do this interview—forever.
Is skateboarding in a good state right now?
It’s in a make-it-or-break-it state. The outside media is loving us. Things are definitely going good, but how long will it last, you know?
Do you like all the mass-media coverage?
Yep, straight off the bat. Number one, it helps us. Number two, it breaks down that we are professional athletes, because we’re starting to make it to the big screen. It’s starting to attract people who normally don’t look at our industry. What we as skaters can do is voice our opinions and one day form a skateboard union, where we can have people who work on our side to really help us, not just be greedy.
Where do you see yourself five or ten years in the future?
I want to be running the industry. I want people to think, "Yeah, he was a company owner, he helped the kids." I’m young and I’ve arranged my lifestyle so I can help more people coming up. I’ll look out for anybody who rides for my company; they don’t even have to care about me. As long as they show some respect, they’re gonna have my utmost respect.
Let’s talk about being black in skateboarding.
If people try to dig deeper than your color, they’ll see how you really are. Straightforward, being black, you have your advantages and disadvantages. Most skaters are white, so your noticed a lot more than a white kid. Kind of like being a white guy in the NBA.
How’s fatherhood?
It’s lovely. I mean Junior keeps me up late, but he’s teaching me true responsibility. Responsibility that I know I can never give up on. If I do, I’m a complete failure.
Are you tight with your dad?
Nah. I love him because he helped bring me to this Earth, but he didn’t help take care of me the way he should’ve. I don’t love him like that. I’d kill for him, though, because he’s my father.
Does that affect the way you’re raising your son?
Actually yeah, I think it helps out. I always think back to those days when I was crying, yelling for daddy, and no one was there. That puts more desire in me to try even harder. I’ll go places, and I’ll be gone for just like a few weeks and when I get back Junior’s a little taller, and it makes me think, "Whoa, what the hell?"
Did it make you work a lot harder at everything?
Yeah, I started thinking, "All right, I have to be able to guarantee food in this kid’s life. I only make eighteen to twenty a year; I got to work harder to make this company run better. To earn more, I have to learn more." It helps you out in every kind of way.
So yeah, it’s flooded my life with light. Light is the best way to describe it.
Do you think you’ll have any more kids?
Truthfully yeah, but not a whole lot. To have kids, you have to make sure you’re with the right person, the right individual, living the right lifestyle. I have to realize I’m living in Hollywood, and that isn’t the right place for a kid. Plus, I want to live in my own crib, where my kids will have their own foundation to run around on.
Do you see yourself staying here in L.A.?
Yeah, I think having a house in L.A. and New York would be dope.
Yeah, definitely. What do you think of Steve Rocco’s influence on skateboarding?
I think he’s done some good things and some bad things. Skateboarders are beginning to get paid, and who really helped that out? Rocco. He went out there and overpaid everybody for so long, the rest of the industry had to follow. He’s done some bad and some good. In the end, it’s all just business, so you can’t really condemn him for what he’s done.
He’s been through so many riders, he’s had so many companies, does that ever make you worry that one day you’ll be leaving on bad terms?
Most people who leave companies do so in bad terms, that’s just a fact. In truth, the guy bred demons. He bred demons, and when the demons realized how big they’d gotten, they turned on him. Some people just do it out of spite, when their fifteen minutes of fame is over—everyone hates to hear that. But the thing about leaving World is, because you were on one of the top companies, you’re not crawling off. Some makeshift company will come along and pick you up for more money than you’re worth, because you were a World rider.
I’ve heard it all—Rocco this, Rocco that. But when it comes down to it, World was the first company to pay pros two dollars per board. He gave amateurs two-grand salaries and got them cars. People don’t like it when you do shit like that. Know why? Because they want it. So that’s one of the many things that I see in dealing with Rocco. I’ve also learned how business is from him. A lot of people try to make business friendship. No good business is friendship; they are separate things. That’s the truth. I really don’t like it, but he’ll [Rocco will] stab you in the back and run in the opposite direction so you can’t see how he pulled it. I’d rather have somebody stab me in the front, pull it out, and take me to the hospital. I haven’t seen him try to pull that shit on me yet, but if I ever do, I’ll definitely let everyone in the world know.
How do you feel about the whole shoe industry?
Straightforward, it’s all bullshit. Saying that makes me sound like a hypocrite, because I just started Axion, but the only reason I started Axion is due to Duffs not paying me the money, not putting out shoes, taking my soul, basically just robbing me of my ideas, of myself. They put out f—king golf shoes!
With all these makeshift shoe companies, it’s like, "Hey, Joe Blow, you’re a pro guy, start this shoe company, we’ll pay you a couple grand, and hey, you’ll be going to the top!" Shoe companies make money in bulk. If they can make three runs of shoes, they make a lot of money. Call it up, sell it up, pay for that month, and run away. Hey, think about these young kids representing these companies, getting paid three-hundred dollars. How are you going to get paid three- or five-hundred dollars by a shoe company? There’re a lot of people who aren’t getting paid anything.
Skateboarders aren’t being professional about it and saying, "Let me see how many shoes you ordered. No, not tomorrow. Today. How many shoes went out as promo? How many shoes were sold?" Next thing you know they get a 5,000-dollar check, and they’re happy. In reality, though, they were supposed to be getting a 30,000-dollar check. The truth is, the shoe market is getting flooded, and only the strongest are going to survive. I know that my company is going to survive.
Do you see skaters being more loyal to shoe companies than a board sponsor?
Yeah, because a shoe company gives you photos and a monthly check, and you don’t even have to wear their shoes all the time. The shoe companies don’t care, because they’re making their money. They’re just paying you to use your name. Your board company is worried about every single one of your actions, because you reflect their company way more than the shoe company.
Do you see yourself skating forever?
I’ll be like Rodney. I’ll be like Grandpa Kareem. I see myself in it until the industry tells me to get out. I could get iced, and when they tell me to be out of it, I will step down.
I want to go out, like, "All right, I’m out. Retirement." One time. Some people retire too early, so I’m just gonna retire when it’s my time.
Is there any advice you have for the kids?
Just skate and be yourself, don’t get caught up in the makeshift bullshit industry. Don’t even read about the industry part, just skate and have fun. Oh yeah, and everyone can slow down on all the ollie grabs on street. I love everyone, and that’s pretty much it. Either you love me or you hate me.