Olympian Adam Rippon Doesn’t Care What Mike Pence (or Anyone Else) Has to Say

"Any article I do now is sort of like, 'Gay Olympian Adam Rippon,'" says Adam Rippon, the 28-year-old figure skater who does, in fact, own the distinction of being the first openly gay athlete ever to make a U.S. Winter Olympic team. It wasn't until several weeks after his selection, though, that the label became practically mandatory to include in stories about Rippon, when he sharply criticized the decision to have sitting vice president and noted homophobe Mike Pence lead the American delegation to the opening ceremony in Pyeongchang. "You mean Mike Pence, the same Mike Pence that funded gay conversion therapy?" he asked in an interview with USA Today. "I’m not buying it."

Rippon understands why his presence on the team matters, and for reasons that go beyond the simple fact that he managed to earn his first Olympic berth at an age when many of his fellow skaters have retired from international competition. When we spoke, he sounded less weary of discussing the subject than bemused by the frequency with which he's had to do so recently. "Being gay has never been a big deal to me, which is why it's a little funny to be getting all this attention about it," he explained. Besides, focusing too heavily on the historical significance of Adam Rippon's trip to Pyeongchang omits a lot of other critically important details about him. For example: Adam Rippon is funny.

Rippon isn't just famous-person funny, or brand-manager funny, or corporate-sponsor-approved funny. He is really, delightfully, snicker-to-yourself-and-send-a-screenshot-to-the-group-text funny. On social media, he alternates between roasting the anonymous bigots who have taken up semi-permanent residence in his mentions; posting pictures of himself warmly embracing his biggest fan; and searching for opportunities to deploy the perfect meme at the perfect moment. "I'm proud of a lot of things I've said on Twitter," he admitted, laughing cheerfully at his own shamelessness.

Wry self-deprecation is a specialty. At one point, I asked him about some good-natured fun he poked at the differences between his routine and that of his training partner, Nathan Chen—a gold-medal favorite who is also ten years his junior. Rippon immediately deduced what my halting description of an old tweet referred to, and then had to pause every few words to catch his breath because he found himself unable to stop laughing.

"Maybe a year ago, this amazing interview with the cast of Victoria Justice's Nickelodeon show resurfaced, and they're all talking about Ariana Grande," he explained before launching into an exaggerated recitation of the ensuing dialogue from memory. "'Oh, she sings all the time, and she has such a great voice.’ And then they zoom in on Victoria"—here, he really starts losing it—"and she's smiling, but you can tell that she's getting pissed. My favorite part is that at the end, they just turn her voice all the way up and she's like, 'ACTUALLY, WE ALL SING. WE ALL SING.'"

Rippon was named as a second alternate to the U.S. team in 2010, and he missed out altogether in 2014 on the heels of an eighth-place finish at that year’s qualifier. As a result, he'll be competing in 2018 as both an Olympic rookie and also as something of a grizzled veteran in his sport. (Moments after winning gold at the 2016 U.S. championships, an ecstatic Rippon memorably told NBC’s Andrea Joyce, "I'm like a witch! You can't kill me! I keep coming back every year, and every year I get better!") In between tune-ups at his home ice in Los Angeles, Rippon spoke to GQ about his newfound role as an icon in the LGBTQ community; his pointed critiques of the eyebrows of total strangers; and his proposal for resolving that beef with the vice president of the United States, should the opportunity happen to present itself anytime soon.

GQ: A four-hour practice is a long time for anyone to be out on the ice. Do you ever get bored? Do you ever try... listening to a podcast, or something?

Adam Rippon: I'm on the ice for long hours, but skating is not like, say, riding a bike. I have to go through all my programs, and even though they’re only three minutes long, there's so much shit we need to do—we repeat different sections, and do drills with different jumps. If I could listen to a podcast, I probably would.

Do you have a go-to podcast?

I don't. I'm lame—usually, I just put on NPR and listen to what's going on in the world outside the rink.

That might get too depressing, if you were trying to focus on something really difficult out there.

Yeah, but sometimes it's so rage-inducing that it could work! Sometimes I’ll be listening to NPR at the gym, and I’ll hear them say, "Oh, Donald Trump did this today." And I’m like, "WHAT?!" All of a sudden I have more energy than if I drank an espresso.

"I'M WORKING OUT FOR ANOTHER TWO HOURS. FUCK IT."

EXACTLY.

You seem to relish interacting with people on Twitter—particularly with those who @ you with some brand of homophobia. The first rule of being on the Internet is to never read the comments. What compels you to do it anyway?

I mean… I don't follow the rules! But I think—I don't engage with people who are, like, innately nasty. I engage with people who are mean and also stupid, because it's so easy to turn it around and make it funny.

I tweeted a while ago about an interview in which I was asked what it's like to be a gay athlete, and I said, "It's exactly like being a straight athlete, except with better eyebrows." Over the past few weeks, this has led to me talking more about my eyebrows than I have in my entire life. And then, someone—[laughs]—sent me a tweet—[laughs harder]—asking, "Oh, so you think you have better eyebrows than straight people?" And I was like, Wow. It sounds like your eyebrows probably aren't that nice.

I was a little surprised to learn that in 2018, the United States still had yet to have an openly gay Winter Olympian. What’s important to you about changing that? What do you want people to come away thinking after they watch you compete?

For me, too, it was kind of shocking—and now there are two, me and Gus Kenworthy. It’s important to be out, though, because when it's new and fresh, it's easier for other people to do it. The next athletes who come out won't be "gay Olympians." We'll just call them "Olympians." Which is what they are, and what I am.

I know what it's like to be young and to feel like you don't belong. I always said that if I had the platform and the opportunity to share my story and make it easier for others, I would—so that, in a way, I can be the role model that I was looking for as a kid.

You came out in 2015. What made you decide that that was the right time to do it?

About a year after Russia’s "gay propaganda" law was enacted, reporters were asking athletes about it at a media summit before the 2014 Sochi Games. Everybody kind of tried to skip the question, but when they got to one of my very best friends, Ashley Wagner, she said, "It's terrible. It's a stupid law, and it doesn't make any sense. Some of my best friends are gay, and I have a brother who is gay. They are no different or less than anybody else."

When she came back, I told her, "Ashley, I'm so proud of you. I can’t believe you spoke your mind." And she said, "What are you proud of? It's just not right." She changed my world in that moment. After the Olympics were over, U.S. Figure Skating wanted to do a cover story for their magazine with Ashley and me, and I said that I wanted to talk about being gay—to very casually bring it up in the article. I felt that it was important to talk about, because it is part of my story. But it isn't my whole story. It's just part of who I am.

You're competing with two teenage teammates, Nathan Chen and Vincent Zhou, who are 18 and 17 years old, respectively. What's it like being the elder statesman of that crew?

I'm the oldest of six, and Nathan—we train together every day—is the youngest of five, so I look at him like he's one of my little brothers. I feel that I have a lot to offer as a competitor, but also as a big brother to make sure that they're alright. I have ten more years on planet Earth than they do, and I've experienced a lot of ups and downs. I've told both of them separately that if they ever need anything, they can always come to me.

I’m 30, and while I’m guessing that you, an Olympian, are in a multitude of ways more athletic than me, a writer, 28 isn’t that far off. How are you dealing with the aches and pains that your teenage teammates might not experience? What’s it like staring down your own mortality?

You know, I've really had to let go of thinking about things like, Oh God, I'm getting older. Every day, I have to go to the rink and think about how far I can push myself. When I was 18, it was, Fuck it, I'm going to do everything balls to the wall until they turn the lights out. If I did that now—my insurance isn’t good enough for me to end up in urgent care every day.

As an athlete, I know that I'm such a perfectionist that I'll want to go out and keep working on something over and over, until it’s perfect. Part of growing up is learning to take a step back. It's okay. I can leave this alone right now and work on something else. That's enabled me have a long career for a skater. By letting go of feeling old, and the doubts that go along with that, my last four years have been my best four years, too.

When you were asked about Mike Pence's selection as the leader of the U.S. delegation, you said that you had no interest in meeting with him before the Games, and you later declined an invitation to speak in private. But you also said that you might be willing to have an "open conversation" after the competition is over. What does that look like? What would you tell him?

Here’s the thing: I have nothing to say to him. I'm very lucky that Mike Pence has had little to no effect on my life. If we were to meet, I would want to bring people whose lives have been changed by legislation he has pushed. As a member of the LGBT community, I want to speak out, because he's spoken about people like me.

If the opportunity arises later for me to have a conversation with him, it's not for me. It's for the people who have real stories to tell about why they need to be heard, and why they deserve to be treated as equal American citizens, just like any other person.

If you could replace Pence as head of the delegation, who would you pick?

I don't know, but I do feel that President Obama's decision to have gay former Olympic gold medalists lead the Sochi delegation in 2014 was a really poignant choice. It was sort of like, "Here we are. You want to tell them that they are less than anyone else? That's bullshit. These are Olympic athletes. These are our champions."

What’s the pettiest thing you’re looking forward to at the Games?

I can't wait to go through Olympic processing, where we get our uniforms and everything. One of the people I skate with every day just said to me, "You wear a different Olympics T-shirt every day." Which is true! But I was like, "Bitch, I've been collecting these for the past eight years. In the two weeks before I actually get to go to the Olympics, I'm wearing every fucking T-shirt I've ever gotten in my entire life that has the Olympic rings on it."

You have described your routine for these Games as "a little trashy and a little fun." Is it more trashy, or more fun?

I don't know! I've been doing this routine all season, and I'm excited for the whole world to see me be a little trashy and a little fun. [pause] Hopefully a lot of fun, and a little trashy. You'll have to decide for yourself.

Maybe the little trashy part is what will make it a lot of fun?

Exactly. THANK you.

Do you have any opinions about the opening ceremony uniforms you get to wear this year?

Maybe if this were my fifth Olympic Games, I'd say, "Oh, I wish it were like this, or like that." But honestly, at this point in my life, if they said, "Here's your opening ceremony outfit," and then handed me a piece of rope and some broken sticks and a trash bag, I'd be like, "IT'S GORGEOUS. I'LL MAKE IT WORK."