When my daughter J was born, I was thrilled to be the mother of a girl. And
what a baby girl she was; spunky, gorgeous, outspoken, and funny from the
beginning. When she was young, I would stare at her as she slept, imagining her
future: competitive athlete, school newspaper editor, crusader for women's
rights, community organizer, Supreme Court Justice... I bought her tiny t-shirts
with feminist slogans on them. I took her to marches and rallies for political
causes. I encouraged her to speak her mind, and share her opinions. I told her
often that her life was hers to compose - she was in charge - and I
encouraged her to dream big by telling her that she could be anything she
wanted to be, as long as she set her mind to it.
Today, as an 8th grader, Jane has set her mind to becoming...a
cheerleader.
My daughter's desire to make the high school cheerleading squad next year is
certainly God's cosmic joke on me - her way of reminding me that, despite my
frequent belief to the contrary, I am not the one driving the bus. You see, I
have to admit to an anti-cheerleader bias. My parents always told me that
I should be the one achieving things for which people should want to
cheer for me, not the other way around. And cheerleading always struck
me as inherently sexist. Yes, there are some male cheerleaders out there (George
W. Bush, for one, although that certainly doesn't add to any appeal the sport
might hold for me), but on the whole, cheerleading means attractive young women
in short skirts cheering for male athletes. Ick. It didn't help that I
attended a slightly funky, private high school with no football team, and no
cheerleaders. Our little school was perversely proud of the fact that we were
sans cheerleaders, although sometimes a few boys would dress in drag
and perform "cheerleading" routines on the sidelines at basketball and soccer
games. Yes, my whole upbringing shaped me to have issues with the idea
of cheerleaders.
So when my daughter first started talking about wanting to pursue
cheerleading, I was very negative. In fact, I initially said no. She was only 11
or 12 at that point, and my experience with children's cheerleading teams (at
least the ones I've seen on the sidelines at the many, many youth sports events
I've attended as a parent over the years - your mileage may vary) was that they
were only one step up from children's beauty pageants. I'd observed many groups
of overly made-up little girls in short skirts performing sexualized dance
moves on the sidelines, as their brothers played football on the field, and
their hovering, has-been cheerleader moms beamed with pride. Not for my
daughter, no thanks.
But I realize that high school and college cheerleading are
somewhat different. While I still believe that it has some sexist
underpinnings, cheerleading has apparently become an actual sport of its own -
and quite a physically demanding one. So I told J that if she still wanted to do
this cheerleading thing when high school rolled around, I'd agree. Now tryouts
for the high school she hopes to attend next year are coming up in a few weeks,
and she's been working very hard to get ready. Her father is 100% behind the
cheerleading idea, and has been taking her to gymnastics and dance lessons to
get her ready for the tryouts. As I've watched how diligently she's working at
this, and seen her genuine enthusiasm, I've had to face my own issue with this
head-on. I've realized that I really wasn't being fair to her in my negative
reaction to her interest in the whole cheerleading thing.
As a parent, you have expectations and hopes for your child, but sometimes,
that child chooses an entirely different path. Conscious parenting requires
realizing when you are projecting your own needs and desires onto your child,
and that's certainly been my struggle with this issue. The bottom line is this:
when I told J she could be anything she wanted to be, I guess what I really
meant was that she could be anything I wanted her to be. And that was
wrong of me. I have to let her be herself, and I have to support her in becoming
herself - not in becoming a younger, cuter version of me. I've been honest with
J about my prejudices about cheerleading, and how I am working to overcome them.
I've also told her that I am really proud of how hard she's working to prepare
for the tryouts.
Last night, I asked J to show me some of the moves and routines she's been
working on. She did, and then she insisted on making me do some of
them. Soon we were collapsing in gales of laughter together, as she attempted to
school her geeky, bespectacled mama in executing cheers to J's demanding
standards. It was fun. It was also really hard. I'm actually a little sore
today.
So when J tries out for the high school squad, I will be there, cheering her
on. If she's going to be a cheerleader, then I want her to be the best darn
cheerleader she can be.
