I recently overheard someone say, “My mom said I could play any sport except cheerleading. There was no way I was going to be part of something that just cheers for the boys.” As a feminist, I understood the sentiment. But as a former cheerleader? That resonated differently. It made me reflect on whether I would allow my daughter—or even my son—to pursue cheerleading. My conclusion? Absolutely, yes.
As both a feminist and a former cheerleader, I see both sides of the argument. For years, I felt embarrassed by my cheerleading past. I pleaded with my dad not to mention it to my then-boyfriend (now husband), kept it hidden from my college friends, and practically erased any trace of it from my life. Being a cheerleader didn’t align with my self-image; I wasn’t bubbly, didn’t care much for school spirit, and, well, I considered myself a feminist. The notion of cheering for male athletes felt disingenuous.
Despite this, I recognized that cheerleading was an essential part of my high school experience. I needed extracurricular activities to bolster my college applications, my best friend was the captain, and honestly, I enjoyed the fun of it. In retrospect, cheerleading turned out to be a great decision—it was challenging, enjoyable, and ultimately helped me get into college. Yet, as I delved deeper into women’s studies, I wrestled with the question: Can someone be both a cheerleader and a feminist?
The answer is a resounding yes. Cheerleading is a sport, requiring physical strength and teamwork, just like any other athletic activity. Limiting feminism to a specific stereotype is a form of prejudice in itself. Just because someone enjoys traditionally feminine activities, like getting their nails done, doesn’t mean they don’t advocate for women’s rights. These societal norms shouldn’t dictate our values.
Feminists come in all shapes and forms. I can love a pedicure while demanding equal pay. I can advocate for reproductive rights while dressed in a fashionable outfit—yes, even in a mini skirt and heels if I choose. It’s vital to focus on who we are at our core rather than how we fit into society’s expectations. To echo RuPaul, “We are born naked and the rest is just drag.”
We’re fortunate to have the freedom to choose our activities and express ourselves, but what truly matters is our essence beyond the surface. Supporting one another and uplifting those around us is what counts.
While cheerleading once filled me with shame, I now recognize its value. I appreciate the spirit of cheering for others, the camaraderie of being part of a team, and let’s be honest, I liked the skirt!
However, I still grapple with the perception that cheerleaders primarily exist to support male athletes. I’ve come to view all sports as a bit absurd when you break them down. If aliens were to observe us, explaining a game like football might sound bizarre: “We attempt to move a ball down the field while a group of men wrestles each other, and some even suffer brain injuries.” At least cheerleaders bring coordinated choreography and fun dance moves to the table.
Yet, there’s an unspoken hierarchy in sports. Cheerleaders often face criticism from athletes in other sports. I felt conflicted when a teacher at a recent gathering expressed disappointment that a talented student was choosing cheerleading over more “serious” sports. Her reaction made me pause. Normally, I’d have shied away from admitting my own cheerleading past, but this time, I decided to embrace it publicly. As soon as I disclosed my background, I noticed her discomfort. I know she meant no harm; she likely thought it was a safe question to ask among her peers.
I understand the stereotypes—smart people aren’t cheerleaders, pink isn’t synonymous with feminism, and not all hockey players fit the stereotype. But it’s time to challenge these outdated notions. You can be a feminist cheerleader, a feminist hockey player, or a football player who enjoys baking. It took me years to find pride in my cheerleading experience, which is a part of who I am.
For now, I’m thankful for cheerleading; it shaped my path and led me to where I am today.