Cheerleading: More Than Glitter and Pom-poms?
If there’s one way to rile up a cheerleader, it’s to say that cheerleading isn’t a sport.
It’s easy to see why people who aren’t interested in the world of cheer are often led to make such an imprecise statement. American movies and television shows have consistently provided us with a recognisable stereotype for the cheerleader: she’s blonde, she’s skinny, she’s mean, and she has more time to text boys than she does to do homework.
If you’re struggling to picture her, just think back to the first few seasons of Glee. Is it any coincidence that characters Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez only toned down their cruelty once they stripped off their cheer uniforms and released their hair from the oppressively high ponytails of seasons one and two? I don’t think so. It’s an undeniably misogynistic trope, and one that script writers of this day and age should be ashamed to fall back up on (I’m looking at you, Riverdale).
At the root of this misrepresentation is sexism, yes. But there’s more to it than that, this stereotype always having focused on a rather minute detail of what cheerleading truly is. Thanks to countless bitchy cheerleaders gracing our screens, the history of cheerleading remains largely unknown. In reality, it may have begun as a side-line activity in America, but most people would probably be shocked to learn that it began as a man’s sport.
Women were only allowed to join cheerleading squads in the early 1920’s, which was almost forty years after the first team was formed at Princeton University. Additionally, whilst all star teams only appeared in the 1980s, the original squads and their routines contained many of the elements that continue to be a part of cheerleading today, such as tumbling, stunting, and jumping. To put it simply, cheerleading has always been athletic, even when it was intended to support simply other athletes.
Netflix’s series Cheer, broadcasted in early 2020, shone a fresh, much-needed light upon the realities of cheerleading. The six-part documentary series, which immediately gained huge popularity, showcased the talented group of athletes that could be found at Navarro College in Corsicana, Texas. Anyone who managed to catch the series might remember just how intense the viewing was, incidents such as dislocated elbows, numerous concussions and twisted limbs making it a particular lively, though often difficult watch.
I recall speaking to several friends after they’d completed the series, their shock at the ridiculous lengths these athletes went to just to perform a two-and-a-half-minute routine once a year proving to be rather amusing. For myself, and likely anyone who has taken part in the cheer world, the content of the show was far from astonishing. Instead, it was refreshing. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was watching cheer – a sport that I’d held closely to my heart since my first competition in 2005, but grown used to seeing misrepresented as nothing more than glitter and pom-poms – finally be shown in all of its sweaty, teary and noisy glory.
Because, for want of a better term, cheerleading is bloody hard.
As Cheer proved, the sport is not just chanting, clapping, and smiles. Behind the heavy make-up, fake tan, and oversized bows, it contains all the elements that you’d expect from a sport and more. On the most basic individual level, there’s weightlifting, gymnastics, and dance. (All of these must be performed to the most ridiculously high standard if an athlete even wishes to make it onto a high-level competition team, let alone win). However, in addition to the arguably gruelling levels of cardio and weight work required, cheerleading also contains an element of teamwork that I’m yet to see replicated in a single other ‘sport’ showcased across the media.
Of course, all team sports require the ability to trust fellow players if one wishes to gain a victory, but in how many other sports are you – even at the most fundamental levels – required to put your life in the hands of just three other people at every training session? And that’s not just the flyers. Every single member of a stunt group is at risk of a serious injury from the moment their flyers feet leave the ground. One base’s mistake could cause another a broken limb. In fact, some of the most serious sporting accidents occur whilst tumbling or stunting, as it’s severely risky to throw your own body – or the body of somebody else – up to thirty feet high in the air and attempt to catch it just milliseconds later. When looking into the world’s most dangerous sports, I frequently came across activities such a mountaineering, racing and boxing. I couldn’t, however, find a single other sport where even if you did everything you were supposed to, the simplest mistake of another could cost you your life.
Despite all this – the bruises that litter our limbs, the bloody noses and busted lips, the eye-watering aching in our backs and quads – cheerleader’s like myself have grown incredibly used to having our sport underestimated, and it continues to have its status as a sport questioned even today. By now, we should be able to recognise that anyone who watches a cheerleading routine and can’t appreciate the sheer athleticism that it requires, is probably just a little bit sexist. After all, what makes cheerleading so unique is that gravity defying stunts and death-defying tumbles must be performed with a smile that could easily rival children’s television presenters at 7am. Now how many other sports can say that? Thankfully, the worldwide perception of cheerleading is changing, albeit slowly, and whilst it continues to go unrecognised by Sport England and similar governing bodies across the pond, there is a chance we will see it on the Olympic stage within the next decade.
Perhaps soon, cheerleading will finally start to get the recognition it deserves.
Written by Erin Lister
Erin is a recent English graduate, currently living in Manchester and working as a teaching assistant. She's obsessed with all things music, theatre and television and hopes to one day write about them for a living.