“Athlete’s name: ______________________________”
It was the first line on the registration form and I laughed out loud. Athlete? Me?!
The last organized sport I participated in was softball when I was 8 years old. Now here I was, parent of an 8-year-old, signing up to join a recreational parent cheer team. The parent team practiced at the same time as my kid’s team, and it looked like fun, and it would be good exercise. Besides, I was new in town and was looking to make friends outside of work.
After the first week I was hooked. Perhaps it was the combination of the joyous musicality, the strength and flexibility, the way that together this group of people could do things that none of us could ever do alone. Perhaps it was the instant sense of welcome. Perhaps it was the opportunity, the encouragement, to set goals for stretching myself to learn new things, to get stronger, to get fitter.
My kid only cheered for three years then moved on to something else, as ten-year-olds do. I stayed.
I cheered on adult recreational teams for seven years, and then I had a conversation with my coach. I loved cheering with my peers, but every year half the team were brand new to the sport, so every year we ended up starting again with beginner-level skills.
I needed more. Did he think I was ready to take the leap into competitive cheer? He did.
I’ve learned a lot.
How to work with others to lift other humans into the air – first on two feet, then on one; first at chest height, then high above my head; first straight up, then twisting on the way up. I learned how to toss other humans into the air and catch them – first a straight toss, not too high, and then much higher while they spun in circles and did somersaults and kicked their legs up above their heads before coming down into my waiting arms. I learned to trust my body to jump and to dance – with people watching! I even tried to learn how to tumble, taking classes in handstands and back walkovers and back handsprings, but it turns out that those things are a LOT hard to learn when you don’t start until you’re almost-40.
I learned the esoteric language that seems to go with every specialized human endeavour: tick-tock, herkie, switch-up-360 to extended heel stretch then pump toss to double down.
I’ve been on teams with men, women, trans folk. I’ve cheered with teammates less than a third my age. I’ve cheered in four provinces, in seven gyms now (Ultimate Canadian Cheer, Dynasty Cheer Academy, Beach Cheer Athletics, Central Cheer, Flyers All-Stars, ACE Athletics, and now Legacy Cheer Atlantic). I’ve cheered at every level (there are seven). I was a volunteer coach at a local high school for a few years.
And through the years, I got better. I got stronger, my technique improved. I learned that I couldn’t just go to team practices – if I wanted to keep doing this, I had to develop my own workout and training routines and be consistent about weight training and cardio and flexibility work. I had to fuel my body with more protein. I had to truly start to think of myself as an athlete.
In 2021-22, I tried out for and was accepted onto a team that would be seeking to qualify to compete at the World Cheerleading Championships, Flyers All-Stars Legends in Montreal. I have never worked so hard at anything physical in my life. We went to Worlds, and we won silver in our division (Open Level 7, Non-tumbling). Me, at 50 years old, a Worlds Silver Medalist. Two years later, and now in my 16th season of cheer, it still feels surreal.
My silver medal is on the wall of my workout space in our basement. Sometimes when a workout gets tough, I look at it to remind myself that I can do hard things.
Cheerleading is an interesting sport to be in. It is still fighting for legitimacy in the public consciousness, although the International Olympic Committee accepted it as a provisional sport in 2021. Indeed, I am writing this post on Super Bowl weekend when the image of the “cheerleader” as a scantily-clad blonde, high-kicking and waving pom-poms, will be reinforced for many. For many, this image of the cheerleader is antithetical to the idea of feminist fitness.
But my experience has been the opposite.
I have experienced cheer as incredibly empowering for girls and women, as we learn to be strong and to be proud of it. It’s a sport that affirms body diversity – all body shapes and sizes are welcome and all are needed, including in the ‘cheer abilities’ divisions that are often the most popular performances in a competition. It’s an affirming space for all genders – I know coaches who’ve worked hard to ensure their trans athletes are fully included. It’s still too white in many places, although that is slowly changing too.
Parents of my young teammates have thanked me for being a role model for their kids – especially that trip to Toronto when I picked up the bound copy of my doctoral thesis and a silver medal at the National Championships. Other adults have thanked me for inspiring them to find activities that they enjoy and that keep them physically active. My kid, now 23, routinely calls me a “badass priest mom with a doctorate.”
Me? Yeah, it’s still uncomfortable, but… I’ll go with “athlete.”
Heather McCance is an Anglican priest who serves as president at Atlantic School of Theology in Halifax. When she isn’t cheerleading, you can find her sailing with her spouse Dave.
