Disillusionment

This started as a bulletin on MySpace... but it got very long and I spent quite some time on it, so I felt like it warranted a more permanent home... So without further ado, here is my crushed and somewhat angry rant about professional cheerleading and the hopelessness of my place in it.


So I had my first cheer clinic today, although it was really just dance. And a hell of a workout. I sweat through every fiber of my sports bra and drenched the waistband of my sweatpants, pretty much sweat like a pig in general. Learned a new prep for pirouettes that's easier, so that's good, seeing as I still can't land a solid double and need to be able to do so in four weeks.

Four weeks. Tryouts are in four weeks and I am no closer to landing a spot on the squad than I am to passing the bar exam. The clinic today only affirmed for me that, no, I cannot dance. Apparently I can "move my body like a cyclone," but picking up choreography in a hurry... well let's just say I'm doing better with my first math class in two years. It was downright embarrassing how many times I tripped over my two (or was it three??) left feet or blanked a count or two altogether. All in all, I looked like a total idiot out there among all these experienced dancers with their tight little butts, pretty faces and perfect blonde hair... not to mention their ability to spot turns and kick themselves in the face with their backs straight.

But here's the really sad part, aside from me being a miserably awful dancer with rapidly vanishing hope of ever achieving my dream. The beauty focus for that team - the Sea Gals - is absolutely ridiculous. The coach told me, flat out, that if I made the team (which I obviously won't - I don't think I'm even going to try out for this squad anymore, stay tuned as to why) that I would have to get a spray tan, at least for every photoshoot, and presumably every performance.

Uhm, it's SEATTLE. Get with the program, lady. We're not exactly sunshine capital of the fucking world, and not everybody even looks good with a tan.

But that's not all. The team has to wear fake eyelashes for every performance, have their nails professionally done at all times in case they have to sign autographs, and sign an agreement stating that they will remain within three pounds of their agreed "ideal" weight at all times. If they get out of that range the first time, it's two weeks probation, i.e. they must still go to all practices, but are not allowed to perform. The second time it happens, they get kicked off the squad.
One third of what you are judged on at tryouts is how pretty you are.

IT'S A FUCKING SPORT!

Yeah, cheerleaders "should" be pretty, but fuckin' A. And people wonder why eating disorders and self-esteem issues are so rampant in our country. I pretty much wanted to throw up and buy a tan airbrush after I left the clinic... well, and then kill myself, because my chances of making the team dead or alive are about the same. So much for my dream.

But this is what I think is so sad. To get on the team at all, you have to be a kick-ass dancer. Something I'm clearly not. But for the girls that do make the team, that's not what is even emphasized. The big thing, in the coach's exact words, is to "look amazing all the time." It's like it's a beauty pageant or something! Honestly! No one looks amazing all the time! I bet even Kate Moss has her days when she wakes up, looks at herself in the mirror, and thinks, "Whoa, what the....? EW." Everyone has those days. Everyone gets the flu once in a while and looks god-awful for a couple of days. That's part of the human existence.

But wait, what was that about being a kick-ass dancer? OH! I forgot! It doesn't seem to matter much once you're on the team. You had to be a great dancer to get there, but once you're there, all that really matters in that you look smokin' hot all the time. And with all the fake tans and eyelashes and booty shorts, what do you think your average shmoe in the stands in going to notice about you? Your spot-on triple pirouette and your awesome high kick, or your pretty face, your nice ass, and the impressive surface area of skin you're baring while barely avoiding indecent exposure? That's all that's really going to get noticed, unless said average shmoe happened to drag his classically trained dancing daughter to the football game. I hope those rare ones in the audience give the average shmoes a kick in the boner now and then.

This whole glamorous ideal really takes away from the appreciation of cheerleading as a sport. IT'S NOT EASY. If all it took was a pretty face, a hot body, and enough strength to pick up and wave around a pom pom, there wouldn't even BE tryouts, and I wouldn't be slaving over double pirouettes in my dining room, trying not to crash into tables, or doing toe-touches inside the house, scraping my knuckles on the ceiling until they bleed. Literally. I have so many bandages on my right hand that it's virtually useless. Typing is a pain in the ass. And I wouldn't be practicing my routine in the parking lot at midnight, using my shadow from the streetlights behind me as a mirror to see if my technique needs any work, all the while hoping that no creepy rapist is waiting in the bushes for me to bend over after my set of pique turns. And I wouldn't be teaching myself ballet from YouTube for lack of a real teacher, pausing and rewinding over and over until I'm sure I know what the real steps are. Even with all this, I'm still a lousy dancer, and I guess it doesn't matter, because even if I was and I could land a perfect double pirouette, if I was the most flexible and spirited girl at tryouts, I wouldn't be pretty enough for them. I'm too white, my skin is hideous, and imagine they don't think I have that elusive pretty face either.

So, there's an inside look into professional "cheerleading." Not a pretty picture, I think. More like a big, flashy poster for barbie dolls and bulimia.

That's NOT what cheer is supposed to be about. It's supposed to be about spirit, pride, and, of course, dance ability. But it's not Miss USA. It shouldn't be, anyway, but that's what it is, at least on this team. Fuck the NFL. It's stereotypical and sexist. Big, sweaty men that beat the shit out each other and sideline eye candy that has to be perfect and hot all the time, and are required to have all this talent and well-spokenness... that no one will ever notice, because they're too busy staring at the tits and ass.

I don't think I want to even buy into that. True, that's just the Sea Gals, and the UW tryouts are a totally different matter. It's the UW squad I really want to be on anyway. But aside from the disillusioning revelation of how sick NFL cheerleading is, I still got a slap in the face today, as I was reminded by the dance, that really wasn't all that difficult, that I am, and likely always will be, a terrible dancer.

Cheerleaders are GOOD dancers. I might as well dig the bondage pants out of the bottom of my closet, because this dream is as good as dead.