In light of recent events and the profound impact felt both within and beyond the figure skating community, I wanted to reflect on just how interconnected this sport truly is. Long before I ever stepped onto the ice for my first Learn to Skate lesson, I already felt a connection to skating. My journey didn’t begin with blades on my feet—it started from the sidelines, as a fan.

I was captivated by the sport through the television screen, especially in the lead-up to the Olympics. Back then, skaters like Michelle Kwan and Sasha Cohen graced the ice season after season. As a viewer, it felt like we got to know them personally, following their careers with a sense of loyalty and admiration that deepened with each performance.

When I finally began my weekly Learn to Skate lessons, my interest shifted from passive admiration to active participation. Suddenly, the competitions I watched on TV felt more relatable, and the skaters around me became my immediate community. At first, most of those skaters were pint-sized, bundled in snowsuits and helmets, wobbling through their own journeys. However I observed closely—watching my instructor demonstrate an element flawlessly, then studying the line of kids ahead of me, learning not just what to do but also where the challenges were. Even with the vast differences in age and experience, there was a shared understanding: we celebrated each other’s milestones and empathized with the frustrations when progress felt just out of reach.

As I advanced through the levels, collecting those cherished teddy bear certificates of completion (if you know, you know), the sense of connection deepened. Learning from one another, cheering for good lessons, and offering support through tough ones became second nature.

However, when I transitioned to private lessons and freestyle sessions, that connection felt a bit more distant. Moving from the structured comfort of group classes to the dynamic environment of a busy freestyle session is a huge leap—one that can feel overwhelming, especially for adult skaters. Unlike kids, who seem blissfully unaware of anything beyond the 4 feet of ice right in front of them, adults are acutely aware of their surroundings, often battling feelings of self-doubt and the nagging question, “Do I belong here?” (Spoiler: you do.) But if you push through that discomfort, something magical happens. You find your place.

For me, that sense of belonging resurfaced when I began competing. The adult skating community is incredibly supportive. We understand each other’s struggles—how physically demanding the sport is, especially when starting later in life, and how challenging it can be to juggle training with careers and adult responsibilities. Competitions aren’t just about medals; they’re opportunities to connect with like-minded individuals who share the same passion.

Over time, I grew more comfortable on freestyle sessions, finding camaraderie in the quiet, unspoken bond among skaters. Being on the ice day after day, you realize that everyone has good days and bad days. We all hit plateaus. We all have that one jump that eludes us for weeks, only to magically reappear. Even something as simple as filling out a competition registration form can inexplicably throw off your spins (someone please explain why this is).

Over the past three years, I’ve had the privilege of training at a facility that has attracted a whole new group of elite coaches and athletes. Watching these skaters—balancing rigorous training schedules with school or college—has deepened my appreciation for the sport. Seeing someone fall repeatedly, then finally skate a clean program, or witnessing the incredible effort and determination it takes to master a double axel, is both humbling and inspiring. It reminds me that the heart of figure skating isn’t just in the perfect performances but in the relentless pursuit of growth.

And it’s this very interconnectedness that will help the figure skating community heal after the tragedy of Flight #5342. We lean on each other through challenges and heartbreak. We celebrate each other’s victories, big and small. And we honor those who have inspired us to be better, on and off the ice.

Because in figure skating, all roads lead back to the rink—where community, resilience, and love for the sport always bring us together.