Thursday, August 30, 2012

My Daughter's a Cheerleader...and I'm OK With It.

Apparently, your children can change you.

My lifelong dislike of cheerleaders was founded on an intense envy of their Barbie-like attributes, followed by an assumption that all cheerleaders were like the stereotypical ditzes on TV, and topped off with a self-comforting superiority complex that I was "beyond" cheering for the go-getters... I was the go-getter. But my disdain ended tonight, a direct result of The Sparkle Effect.

We are now beginning our second year at the Huge Suburban School. Last year, a HSS cheerleader heard about The Sparkle Effect, and decided to start a Sparkle cheerleading squad at HSS. Diva Moms who participated last year told me about it, and since all the other girls were doing it I figured my Diva should be too. Husband has been taking her to practices periodically, and other than doing her hair for pictures, I have had little to no involvement.

Tonight was the first night of cheering. I had not been to a high school football game since the Gopher was in ninth grade football, and I didn't know what to expect. For one, HSS enrolls about 3,000 students (9-12), compared to Rural City School's 800 students (7-12). I imagined it would be more like a college football game than any high school game I had ever been to. As I did Diva's hair, I reminded her that this was Not the time to be telling me how much she loves me, or blowing me kisses. I was a little nervous that the attention of hundreds of people, combined with the bright lights, might intoxicate her to the point of uncontrollable silliness, and I'd have to drag her off the "stage," never to be seen or heard from again...

As usual, we were running a bit late. Husband dropped us off at the gate, we meandered in, and I - having no idea how to get Daughter onto the track - simply began walking towards it. There were literally hundreds of people. I reached the bottom of the track, only to discover that Daughter needed to be on the opposite side. The gatekeeper had pity on us, and allowed Daughter and I to walk along the track instead of having us walk back up the hill and into the stands. I was somewhat unnerved with the thought of everyone watching me walk along the track. While I was slinking closer and closer to the edge, Daughter was practically skipping with excitement. At one point she even said, "Look! My fans!" (To which I hissed in exasperation, "Those are not your fans!")

Daughter actually asked to run towards the cheerleaders - for the first time EVER, I was going too slow for her! So off she went, yelling her friend's names, jumping and squealing and laughing. I eventually finished my Parental Walk of Shame, and found a seat in the stands with Husband. And as I looked down from my seat in the bleachers, I realized what a beautiful gift the Sparklers had given to Daughter.


There was Daughter, hanging out with fellow Divas and her mainstream peers, giggling and doing cheers and taking pictures. I was looking at the American Dream - the sun setting behind the football field, the marching band in the stands, the student section decked out in spirit gear and the athletes playing their hearts out - and my Diva was a part of it. I had nothing to fear - Daughter was quite the high school senior, and although we exchanged special smiles throughout the evening, she was careful to conduct herself like her fellow cheerleaders. The Sparklers cheered with their student coaches/buddies, did some pyramids, and after the game each Sparkler received a gift bag from her Buddy.

I have few complaints of peers who were truly mean to Diva. In the same vein, I have equally few stories of peers who were true friends to her. I don't begrudge the rarity, because before being Diva's Mom, I wasn't going out of my way to befriend the Divas of the world. But now that I'm on the other side, I can tell you that I will never forget those kids who took time to be friends with Diva - the pair of Rural City boys (one even let her wear his football jersey for Homecoming), the girls who came to Diva's twelfth birthday party, and now the darling cheerleader who is her cheer buddy.

So you see, maybe those cheerleaders aren't so bad afterall.

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