In the film Mid90s, Ray emerges as a pivotal figure in the life of Stevie, the young protagonist navigating the turbulent waters of adolescence. Played by real-life skateboarder Na-kel Smith, Ray isn’t just another member of the crew—he stands out as someone who genuinely cares, offering guidance and support when it’s needed most. As one of the older skaters in the tight-knit group based in 1990s Los Angeles, Ray naturally steps into a mentor role, becoming something of a father figure to Stevie. And honestly, that’s exactly what Stevie needs—a steady presence amid the chaos of growing up.
From the moment Stevie enters their world, Ray takes him under his wing, introducing him not only to the tricks and techniques of skateboarding but also to a sense of belonging. It’s clear early on that Ray sees something in Stevie—maybe even a younger version of himself. Through shared rides, late-night conversations, and long days at the skate park, Ray becomes more than just a friend; he becomes a trusted confidant. The bond they form goes beyond boards and rails—it’s about trust, loyalty, and mutual respect. And let’s be honest, moments like those are rare, especially for a kid trying to find his place in the world.
But Ray isn’t perfect—that’s part of what makes him so compelling. He carries his own baggage, shaped by a past filled with struggles and poor choices. Still, despite everything he’s been through, Ray consistently shows up for Stevie. Whether it’s offering words of encouragement after a fall—both literal and metaphorical—or standing up for him when things get tough, Ray proves time and again that he’s someone you can count on. His character embodies the idea that people can change, that redemption is possible, even when the odds seem stacked against you.
As the story unfolds, we learn more about Ray’s backstory, and it adds layers to his personality. You start to see why he values connection so deeply, why he invests so much in this makeshift family of skaters. There’s pain there, sure, but also resilience. And that resilience? It quietly inspires Stevie to keep pushing forward, even when things feel overwhelming. In many ways, Ray becomes a mirror for Stevie—one that reflects both the challenges of growing up and the hope that comes with having someone who believes in you.
It’s also worth noting how Ray’s personality shines through in subtle yet powerful ways. For instance, his warmth and emotional intelligence suggest he might fit the ENFJ personality type—someone who thrives on deep human connections. Ray listens. He notices when someone’s off. He mediates conflicts without making a big deal out of it. These aren’t small things; they’re the foundation of real leadership. And while he doesn’t wear a badge or give speeches, Ray leads by example, creating a space where others feel seen and valued.
Then there’s the Enneagram angle—Ray reads strongly as a 4w3, which makes total sense once you think about it. He’s introspective, artistic, and deeply aware of his identity. There’s a quiet intensity to him, a desire to express himself authentically, whether through skating, music, or just being present in meaningful ways. The “3 wing” adds ambition and adaptability, explaining why Ray pushes himself so hard and strives to make an impact, even within a subculture that often flies under the radar. He wants to matter—not for fame, but because he knows what it feels like to be overlooked.
All of this combines to make Ray far more than just a side character. He’s a guiding light in Stevie’s journey, helping him discover not only his love for skateboarding but also his sense of self. Their relationship evolves throughout the film, moving from admiration to genuine mutual respect. By the end, it’s clear that Ray has left a lasting mark—not just on Stevie, but on anyone watching the film.
So yeah, when you really break it down, Ray from Mid90s is kind of unforgettable. He’s flawed, yes, but also incredibly human. He stumbles, he fights his demons, but he never stops showing up—for his friends, for Stevie, for himself. That kind of quiet strength? That’s rare. And that’s why Ray sticks with you long after the credits roll. He reminds us that mentorship doesn’t have to be formal or flashy; sometimes, it’s just showing up, listening, and saying, “I got you.” And in a world that often feels disconnected, that kind of presence means everything.
Ray from Mid90s—a name you won’t forget, a character you’ll remember, and a reminder of how much one person can shape another’s path.
You're my little man. Most people don't give a shit about most people.