Cheerleading has always been a very significant part of my life. I became a cheerleader when I was around seven years old, and I have been a cheerleader for the past nine years of my life. I learned the ins and outs of the sport, loved every second when I first started, then learned my true hatred for it.
As stated before, I became a cheerleader when I was the ripe age of seven. How cheerleading worked back then was that we would do sideline cheer for the little league football team, and then at the end of the season, we would compete in a competition along with other schools.
My first year, I was on the “minis” team, which consisted of fellow third graders but also other fourth-grade girls. At first, I was terrified. These scary fourth-grade girls were supposed to be my teammates? I thought that there was no way they were going to be nice, and I was nervous about embarrassing myself in front of the cooler, older girls.
Instead, the older girls had more experience and taught my other friends and me the rules and ways of cheer. This is where I found my undying love for cheerleading. After sideline cheer was over, we started the preparation for my very first cheer competition.
I can still recall the fear that was struck within me, waiting for the judges to call my team onto the mat for the first time. My heart was pounding; I was so terrified, and then finally, our team was called out to begin our performance.
For the three minutes we were on the mat, we put everything into the dance and cheer. I’ll never forget how happy I was when we were called up to the stage to claim our first-place medal and trophy.
Flash forward to my freshman year of high school. For the following years leading up to senior year, I was on both the sideline and competition cheerleading team at my high school. Unlike when I was younger, I dreaded every year.
My coach had picked favorites and, of course, I was never one of them. If you had disagreed with anything the favorites had said, my coach wouldn’t hear your side and would immediately agree with them.
I had thought that as I continued cheering, it would get better. Once I got to my senior year, I was promoted to being the only captain. At this point, I had figured that I finally had a say as to how I could lead my team to success. I didn’t realize how much my coach would walk all over me, though. I had little to no say as to what we did due to our coach not caring about what I said.
I will never forget this one occurrence, though. We had placed second due to a few minor mishaps during our performance. After we had received our ribbons, our coach rushed us into a private room to talk to us. She had stated that our behavior was unacceptable and how disappointed she was in the team. One line that I will never forget is, “It doesn’t matter how bad you all are, at the end of the day, I still get paid.”
That had to be one of the most jaw-dropping sentences I have heard in my life. It took so much in me not to start screaming at my coach that we had put our blood, sweat, and tears into the last couple of months to perfect this performance, and she had the audacity to say that to us? After hearing this from the person who was supposed to lead us to victory, my team and I had collectively lost hope.
After nine years of devotion to this sport, I am sad to say that I have no love for it anymore after going through the things I did. I wish I could continue my cheerleading career now in college, but I don’t think I can regain the feelings I once had for cheer. In the end, don’t put up with a shitty coach that makes you hate the sport you once loved.