What does a 30-year veteran of the skateboarding world have to say about Islam, social media, and raising children with faith and purpose? On this episode of The Deen Show, Eddie sits down with a Muslim brother who rode the same ramps as Tony Hawk — the undisputed LeBron James of skateboarding, whose legendary 900 (two and a half mid-air rotations) at the X Games made history and whose video games reached an entire global generation — and spent decades immersed in a counter-culture that stretches from the skate parks of San Diego to the screens dominating our children’s lives today. What begins with a conversation about a pair of glasses quickly unfolds into a profound reckoning with privacy, vanity, the Islamic concept of the evil eye, and the spiritual emptiness at the heart of modern celebrity culture. This is an episode for every Muslim parent, every young believer navigating subcultures, and every seeker asking whether the great figures of our era have ever been truly invited to Islam.
Inside the Skateboarding World: What Every Muslim Parent Needs to Understand
The guest paints an honest, unvarnished picture of an industry born from surfers, societal rejects, and counter-culture kids of the 1980s — young people who fused their identity with punk rock, heavy metal symbolism, and a YOLO philosophy that openly flirts with spiritual darkness. While he is careful to note that not every skateboarder is an atheist, he observes that the higher up the industry ladder, the further people tend to drift from God, faith, and any semblance of spirituality. Skull-and-crossbones graphics, satanic imagery on decks and clothing, and a lifestyle philosophy of reckless abandon are not accidental — they reflect a worldview deliberately crafted and distributed through an elite creative circle rooted in San Diego. The youth drawn to skateboarding are often coming from broken homes, seeking belonging and identity; and what they find in the deeper layers of the culture can be spiritually dangerous. For Muslim parents especially, this is a call to wake up: allowing your child to enter any subculture without active guidance is, as the guest puts it plainly, like sending them to a garbage dump and expecting them to come home smelling clean.
“You are sending your kid to an environment — whether it is a baseball field, a hockey rink, or the skate park — you have to guide your kid before you send them in there. You have to know yourself as a parent what is really going on.”
- Tony Hawk, known as “The Birdman,” is the unrivalled ambassador of skateboarding — his 900 at the 1999 X Games was a moment of sporting history, and his video games introduced the culture to hundreds of millions worldwide
- Skateboarding is a counter-culture with sub-genres spanning hip-hop, punk, and metal — each carrying distinct values, symbolism, and lifestyle associations that Muslim parents should understand before endorsing
- Industry-level branding deliberately incorporates occult and satanic imagery; these are not accidental design choices but reflect the beliefs and intentions of those controlling creative direction and distribution
- Fitrah — the innate human nature — means no person is truly born an atheist; even those who embrace godlessness or occult symbolism are masking a deep, God-given inclination toward their Creator
- Active, present parenting at the skate park — watching your child, meeting other parents, modelling good manners, speaking words of guidance — makes an enormous spiritual and social difference; a parent lost in their phone misses every opportunity
- Muslim children carry something powerful wherever they go: the ability to embody good character and share even a single ayah that could illuminate a heart that has never heard the truth before
The Evil Eye, Digital Vanity, and Using Technology With Islamic Purpose
The guest’s preference for wearing glasses in public — rooted in the anonymous, anti-mainstream ethos of 1990s skateboarding — took on new meaning after he entered Islam. Early in his journey, he encountered conversations during Ramadan and Eid about the dangers of excessive self-display: the evil eye (hasad), the hollow pursuit of likes and comments, and the profound question of whether the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ would engage in the endless selfie culture that defines modern social media. These are not abstract theological points — they are living guidance for navigating a world that profits from vanity and manufactures insecurity. Even publicly proclaimed atheists like Tony Hawk instinctively swear by God in their moments of peak emotion, revealing what every Islamic scholar has taught: the recognition of a Creator is buried in the human soul and cannot be fully extinguished, no matter how many years are spent trying to suppress it.
“Sometimes we have to use the computer as a tool and not a toy. Taking selfies — you have to reflect on that. There is no real purpose other than gratification. They are lusting after that like or that comment. I do not follow that trend. I do not need that type of admiration.”
What this episode ultimately delivers is a reminder that hidaya — divine guidance — reaches people through unexpected doors. A skateboarder who once ran from security guards in Toronto now walks into skate parks as a Muslim father, quietly planting seeds of tawheed and good character with every interaction. Tony Hawk may be the ambassador of skateboarding, but Islam extends its invitation to everyone — athlete, icon, atheist, seeker — to return to the fitrah, to the pure monotheism of the Creator, and to a life of intention, self-awareness, and authentic purpose. The call of this deen is not complicated: even the most imperfect Muslim carries within them something transformative — the oneness of God, a single verse of Quran, the simple model of clean living — and that, as this guest so sincerely demonstrates, is more powerful than any 900, any viral video, or any number of social media followers.
