Yuen: Retiring P.E. Teacher of the Year got thousands of kids up on skis

The middle-schoolers who find themselves on skis for their first time may take to heart the words of their P.E. teacher, DeWayne Combs: “Ski fast. Take chances.”

While Combs doesn’t endorse recklessness, his mantra on the slopes sums up his general philosophy on how children should tackle the unknown. Get outdoors. Get out of your head. Relax. And go for it.

Combs is retiring this fall from St. Paul Public Schools after spending 34 years teaching kids physical education — much of it outside a gym. He has organized schoolwide ski outings every winter and also teaches a safe biking unit, laying the groundwork in his students for what he hopes will be a lifelong love for outdoor adventure.

“I try and get the kids to do what I do, which is biking, skiing, hiking — things that are going to last a lifetime," said the 61-year-old, who last fall was named Minnesota Middle School Physical Education Teacher of the Year. “We’re Minnesotans. In Minnesota, we learn to ice skate, we learn to ski, we ice fish. It’s all those things that help to make the child a whole child.”

Suited up in a camo snowsuit, his dreadlocks cascading out of his helmet, the man everyone knows as Mr. Combs took his students at Murray Middle School for one final student ski trip last week.

“Edges, edges!” he called out to a gaggle of beginners cautiously side-stepping up an incline at Hyland Hills Ski Area in Bloomington. And later, as they whizzed downhill: “Pizza pie!”

These are common commands for ski instructors, but Combs knows that as a Black man on a ski hill in Minnesota, his presence is unusual. The sport remains predominantly white, with only 1.5% of skiers identifying as Black, according to a survey from the National Ski Areas Association. The high cost of ski gear and lift tickets makes the sport out of reach for many, and some say skiing hasn’t historically been welcoming to people of color.

As an 8-year-old growing up in north Minneapolis, Combs was introduced to the pastime after his parents bought skis for him and his older brother. The boys walked to Theodore Wirth Regional Park, a winter-sports mecca in their own backyard, to teach themselves.

His brother kept falling and quit. But Combs continued to get up and try again. “I’ve been skiing all over the world ever since,” he said. “They always talk about what Black people don’t do, but we do everything. Those are just myths. We ski, we skate.”

He and his wife, retiring St. Paul health teacher Renee Combs, exchanged wedding vows while on skis in the mountains of Colorado nearly 25 years ago. Together, the outdoorsy couple have introduced an estimated 4,000 St. Paul kids to skiing by leading student field trips to Hyland and other regional ski hills.

These trips are how many St. Paul students gained exposure to the sport. Families are asked to pay about $30 per child, which covers busing and discounted rates for lessons, equipment rentals and lift tickets. The Combses say they’ve never let money be the reason to deny a child’s desire to ski.

“If a kid is courageous enough to say, ‘I don’t have the money,' we’re going to make it happen for that kid,” Combs said.

Amy Wardell, who supports physical and health teachers in the district, said not all city kids have access to ski hills. It’s up to teachers like Combs to take on extra work to ensure those magical experiences. “It’s 100% unusual because it’s expensive, and it requires a lot of coordination,” Wardell said. “But he does it because he knows it’s what’s best for the kids.”

At times, the field trips have elicited skepticism from colleagues who wondered what skiing had to do with education.

“We’ve had to fight that our whole career,” Renee told me. “Times have changed a little bit, but we used to have to really push it and say the habits you start when you’re young will carry with you when you’re older.”

Hear, hear. Growing up in the second-flattest state in the nation (Illinois), I never learned to downhill ski as a kid. The thought of falling with brittler bones is even scarier now. When I see my outdoorsy kids fly down a hill without fear, I pat myself on the back for helping them fully appreciate our Minnesota winters.

But one great thing about an Illinois public school education, until the law changed in 2017, is that we were required to have P.E. five days a week. Coming from a middle-class immigrant family that prioritized academics over sports, it was through school that I learned to jog beside a friend, join a group fitness class and just move my body, all rituals that still stick with me today. For as much as we remember the more terrifying aspects of gym class, from dodgeball to communal showers, I do salute my old P.E. teachers for planting in me the seeds of a more active lifestyle.

Whitney Cantrell and her husband are also nonskiers. She considers it a gift that Combs has encouraged their Murray seventh-grader, Ksenija, to give the winter sport a shot. He also nudged her to play basketball.

“The whole point of middle school is exposure,” said Cantrell. “You’re not supposed to be great.”

Ksenija says there’s also power in having an African American male as a teacher, something she’s never experienced before until Mr. Combs. At Murray, about 71% of students are kids of color, and a third of households speak a preferred language other than English.

“It’s inspiring,” she said. “My dad’s Black, so it’s like having another father figure but at school.”

This fall, Combs will start a new job at Concordia University in St. Paul, teaching aspiring educators.

In 2020, he was a finalist for Minnesota Teacher of the Year. Over the years, known as “De Bike Man” (a play on his first name), he’s secured grants to equip his schools with fleets of new mountain bikes that students can use in class.

Alongside Renee, who teaches at Harding High School on the East Side of St. Paul, Combs has also helped acquire thousands of donated bicycles from the nonprofit Free Bikes 4 Kidz. The couple load the bikes onto a trailer and personally deliver them to students in need — many of whom rely on them to get to school and work.

On one field recent ski trip, a student awarded Combs the best compliment. He asked her how many times she had been skiing.

“Four times in my life, Mr. Combs,” the girl replied, “and each time was with you.”