She considers herself a true coastal kid. A child of mountain and sea. But to me, she's a lot more than that. She's the future.
Meaning? Just watch her. She's as comfortable negotiating her dad's secret mountain lines in winter as she is nudging the family boat into the rocky shores of her island home in summer. She's cool and competent and funny and strong. Can mix it up with the guys and easily hold her end in most situations. And when things get really tight - when everyone else's pulse is jumping and other people are looking to bail - she usually still has a big grin on her face.
But don't mistake that dimpled smile for complacency. For Mackenzie Patterson is one competitive young woman. Doesn't matter the challenge - whether it's flying from Tyler Massey's monster lakeside swing or cleaning a particularly nasty downhill puzzle on her bike - the former elite ski racer can usually be found smack in the thick of things.
"I guess I'm kinda of an all-or-nothing gal," admits the popular 17-year-old. And then she laughs. "It's gotten me in a fair bit of trouble too." She shrugs. "But nothing to-o-o-o big..."
That's what I love about Whistler. To paraphrase my mentor Dr Seuss:
I've said it before and I'll say it again
The ladies of Whistler have something, my friends.
They're braver, they're stronger, they're crazy as coots.
They're mountain-mad divas; grrl-warriors with roots.
They can climb, ski and ride; bears don't scare them one bit
And they don't take no talk back; watch out, they can hit...
Ah. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, Mackenzie Patterson. Born and raised in Whistler. A proud member of the Graduating Class of 2011. And by the sounds of it, one very busy young woman these days.
"It's kind of crazy right now," she says in the breathless way that only a teenager can manage. "I mean, I've got all this grad stuff happening. And I'm studying for my finals. And I want good marks there to get into college and stuff, so it's important for me to prepare, you know. But there's so many social events right now and I'm one of the prom historians so I'm collecting all these stories from people and that's fun too and..."
Oh to be a high school graduate again...
I know. I know. So easy to get falsely nostalgic about those times. And so easy to focus on the light side of growing up in this valley. Life as a Whistler teenager isn't always fun and games. There's lots of stress - just like anywhere else. Lots of pressure too.
But listening to Mackenzie's stories, I can't help but think that Whistler's not such a bad place to grow up. "That's the great thing about grad," she tells me. "Our whole class is coming together for this. You know, all the different crews. Sure - there are only 60 students graduating. Still, you know, even though most of us have been together since kindergarten some haven't connected for years. But now, everyone is involved." She laughs. "Everyone HAS to be involved."
She grabs a breath. Heaves a long sigh. "You know, we have to fundraise for e-ve-ry-darn-thing at our school," she finally says with just a hint of suppressed indignation.
"Even our prom. So everyone is pitching in to make it happen." She rolls her eyes. "Well, almost everyone..."
We both laugh.
And it makes me realize once again how much of an under-appreciated asset Whistler's homegrown kids are. With few exceptions, the children who were born and raised in Sea to Sky country have grown up to be wonderful ambassadors for this fledgling mountain community. I could name names. But then I would miss some and feel like crap later.
Frankly, I think they're all pretty exceptional.
Know what I mean? They're your neighbours' kids and your workmates' kids and the kids of the guys you play hockey with. They're the ones you scraped off the bunny hill when they were grommets or drove to the swim meet or the drama class or to the clinic with early-season trail rash. They're the ones winning races or awards or gathering headlines now. The ones you get postcards from - from India and France and Australia and Kenya. They're also the ones opening new businesses in town and taking a chance on Whistler's future.
That's why graduation time in Whistler holds such import. It's not an empty ritual. Like small communities everywhere, parents here face the same proud/sad/happy/terrifying realization that for many of these young students - mostly 17- and 18-year-olds - the next step in their life journey requires them to leave the community behind and seek their fortunes in the bigger world.
"You finally get to leave the bubble," is the way Mackenzie puts it. And for some, she adds, that's a scary step. "I don't quite know how to say it," she says, "but most of us know that the life we've led at Whistler is, like, you know, different..." A long pause. "Still, there are a lot of kids who only know Whistler. There's so much more out there!"
She got a first-hand taste of that last fall when she decided to travel back to Southern Ontario to attend classes there. "It was an amazing experience," she says. "The school here is great and everything. But it's pretty limited in terms of choice. When I decided to quit ski racing, one of the things I wanted to do was to get involved in more school activities. And Ontario had that." And 300 people in the graduating class...
"That was pretty overwhelming too." So what else struck her as different there?
"Everything," she answers. And laughs. "I mean, it's a totally different environment. You know, class time is class time there. There's no fooling around. It's all about getting into the good universities. Go. Go. Go. Everyone is fully focused on their studies..."
She stops. She wants to make sure I don't get the wrong idea. "I mean, people are into it here too," she says. Grins. "But here they're more...chill."
We both laugh again. But she quickly gets serious. "You know, I'm really happy I went there. The people were great and I got to play field hockey and stuff. But I learned something important about myself." Another long pause. "This is where I belong..." And what she says next resonates deeply. "I remember coming home for Christmas break," she recounts, "and flying over the ocean and looking over at the mountains and thinking 'Yeah. I'm home. This is my place.' And you know, we were driving up the highway and I felt so happy to be back. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else..."
Needless to say, she didn't return to Ontario for her final term.
"And miss the best winter ever?" she asks me mock-seriously. "No way!"
Like many kids her age, Mackenzie isn't really sure what she wants to do next. "I know I'm probably going to want to go to college on the coast - UVic or UBC. But I also want to take my SATs and look into U.S. schools." As for the short term, she's decided to take the next year off, earn some money, travel a little with her sister and see what comes up.
"I'm really excited about my travel plans with [sister] Merritt," she says. "We're thinking of going to Southeast Asia for three months. Should be really fun."
In the meantime though, there's still school. "It's kinda weird, these days," she tells me "On one level, time is moving re-a-a-a-l-l-y slowly. An hour in class feels like three! I really want to get on with it. I can't wait to get out. " But on another level? "No-o-o-o-o," she cries. "I want to take it all back! I don't want to graduate. I don't want to leave my friends." She laughs. "On that level, it feels like time is moving way too fast..."
Anything else? "I know it's corny," she says, "but I just want to thank my parents for everything they've done for me. They always supported me. Like with ski racing - they were totally behind me all the way, but with no pressure." She stops. Searches for the right words. "You know," she finally blurts, "they never had a set path for me. I'm really lucky for that."
As I said, she's the future...
