I did my rookie year of ski patrol at Killington Resort in Vermont during the 2020/21 ski season.
I loved my job. I had never gotten up every day excited for work as I did as a ski patroller.
However, ski patrolling wasn’t just simple fun.
Work was often exhausting and stressful. But even on hard days, I felt a sense of purpose and pride in my work. I knew people relied on me to provide quality care, reasoned decision-making, and ensure patient and mountain safety.
I was a dedicated and hardworking patroller. I won two Eagle Awards for excellent service and was the first rookie to be offered a year-round position that year.
Although I had never loved a job so much, I had also never felt so much gender inequality.
I believe this stemmed from the lack of female patrollers.
Other than being outnumbered by and working for men in management positions, it wasn’t my coworkers or bosses that made me feel the day-to-day gender inequality of ski patrol. Those I worked with at Killington supported and respected me.
It was the guests who showed me a lack of respect.
It was almost as if, by putting on my patrol uniform, I gave the guests an excuse to sexualize and harass me.
When I was off duty, I was never harassed while skiing. When I put on that red jacket, some male guests would catcall me, say horrible things to me, and make me fearful of doing my job.
For example, we all rotated days being the one patroller on the snowmobile, taking care of patients at the mountain’s base and assisting other patrollers on the flats. One day, when it was my day on the snowmobile, there was a group of men that whistled at me, called me ‘baby,’ and asked me for rides every time I passed them. I ignored them because I was worried about being too “rude” to the guests if I talked back. But I dreaded every call I had to respond to or rope line I had to put up that forced me to pass those men.
This is just one example of almost daily harassment.
Additionally, guests, regardless of gender, consistently told me and showed me they did not trust me to have the strength or ability to care for them and get them safely down the mountain.
When I showed up to an injured patient I was often questioned if I was strong enough to take them down the mountain in a toboggan. Once, I had a small woman insist I call for a man to take her down. I promised her I had taken down men twice her size in the toboggan many times.
I was trained to do so.
She finally agreed to let me take her down and when we got to the bottom she was completely amazed. She told me I was the strongest woman she had ever seen.
I am likely not the strongest woman she had ever seen, considering I can think of many women off the top of my head who are physically stronger than me, but I am trained on how to handle a toboggan and I am confident in my ability.
I did not receive the respect my male coworkers did, which shows me that it is not fully accepted in ski culture to have female ski patrollers.
The solution to this problem is more representation among patrollers.
Ski patrol is known and said to be a “boys club.”
According to the National Ski Patrol, in 2021, 23% of the 31,027 patrollers in the U.S. were women.
This number is exactly the same as at Killington Resort.
This season (22/23), 23% of Killington’s ski patrol are women.
My rookie class had an extremely high percentage of female rookie patrollers, about 43%. This season, Killington’s rookie class is only 9% women.
In terms of my bosses, there was only one female hill chief out of 10 total hill chiefs. The ski patrol supervisors, the ski patrol director, and the director of mountain operations were all men.
Ski patrol needs more female patrollers and more women in positions of power. Having more women in ski patrol is only the tip of the iceberg of equality, accessibility, and representation needed in skiing and the outdoor industry, professionally or otherwise.
Emily Stamper is a Squamish resident and third-year Quest University student. She is currently interning at The Squamish Chief.
