On Cheerleading

Literally a couple minutes ago, I read a comment on Tumblr about how someone "hates" cheerleaders because they think they own the world when all they really do is walk around in a slutty uniform, and how they should get off their high horse. I was infuriated. As someone who cheered for twelve, yes, twelve years, on all sorts of different teams and in two states, I know I'm being honest when I say that those stereotypical girls are a very small fraction of actual cheerleaders. 

When I say I've cheered for twelve years, you have to understand that I'm not talking about simply standing on the sidelines of a football or basketball game, shaking my pompoms around. I'm talking about competitive cheerleading, I'm talking about working on a routine for weeks, just to perform for two minutes and thirty seconds. I'm talking sprained ankles, torn rotation cuffs, concussions and bruises so big and black people thought you were being abused. Those girls, the ones that dedicate hours and hours of practice, fall on their face and insist that they're completely fine, the girls that wouldn't come off the floor if they peed themselves, are the real cheerleaders. Not the girls who think having the uniform gives you power, but the ones who understand that it's not just a privilege to take the floor, but that it's the result of hard, hard work.

The girls I've met through cheerleading are some of the most dedicated people I've ever met in my life. Who do you know that is willing to keep trying no matter how many times they fall? No matter how much they bleed or how much they want to cry? Do you know anyone that is willing to throw themselves on the ground, literally, to potentially save someone else's life? A lot of people talk a big game, about how they would do anything for their friends, but those girls put it into action. Even if they're scared, they'll do whatever it takes to make it work. 

Cheerleading has made me brave, it has made me stubborn and it's kicked me in the ass time and time again. I've learned what it truly means to feel worthless, weightless, strong, powerful, cheated, determined, and so many other things, which I can't even put into words. I have thrown up, then run back to the mats. I have fractured my ankle and kept it a secret because I didn't want to come out of the routine. I've tumbled when my arm was numb, I've competed with pneumonia. I have screamed so loud I threw up. I never thought myself strong enough to push through some of the worst times in my life, but the support of my teammates and the drive my coaches put in me has given me the guts to do almost anything, like publish a book at eighteen. I probably wouldn't have the courage to be myself.

It is unfair to assume that all cheerleaders are the same, and there are bitches on every team. Mean girls can be anywhere. But to say that we're all sluts (most of us didn't have time for boyfriends or partying between practice and homework), think we own the world, or that we don't do anything is just plain wrong. I understand why people stereotype us, but you have to understand that life isn't a high school movie, and we're real people, not robots in uniforms.

Think before you speak, and ask yourself if you would like to be judged so harshly before you do it to someone else. Nothing hurts quite like hearing a lie about yourself.