I read a blog post of a dear friend the other day and it prompted some thoughts of a loss I suffered centuries ago. I believe I was in the seventh grade, and since my birthday is in the fall, I was a young 7th grader. I was feeling desperate to be accepted by my peers. Not being particularly out-going or flirty, I decided that one way to achieve my desires was to become a cheerleader. These girls were always popular with the boys and envied by other non-flirty, nondescript girls, like me. They didn't seem to have to try very hard either. This was the way to go.
In my middle school, called a junior high at the time, cheerleaders were chosen by a panel of "judges", consisting of several teachers, the vice principal and, I think, the class presidents of each of the three grades. Prospective candidates received some instruction for a few days by other cheerleaders and a woman P.E. teacher. Everyone learned the same short routine which was performed on the last day of try-outs in front of the judges. These were the days of bouncy, cutesy cheerleaders- no gymnastic moves required, just lots of enthusiasm, a big smile, and it turns out, blonde hair. I thought I had a chance, except no one told me about the hair color part.
There was only one other girl who attended the same church that I did, and it seemed she was constantly my nemesis. When there was an youth activity at church, she was there, flirting with the older boys and making friends with the High Schoolers. It didn't help that she had a gorgeous older sister, also very popular, who included her little sister in her high school crowd. And wouldn't you know this competitor had blonde hair, she was smiley and out-going, and her name ended with "Jo", a real plus for 12 and 13 year old girls at the time.
The first day of try-outs, much to my dismay, ____Jo was there! I remember thinking to myself, "Why does she want to be a cheerleader? She already has the status we all seek." And I admit I secretly hoped she'd sprain an ankle. Of course she quickly learned the routine, and of course, all the other participants loved her, as did the teacher. I was livid.
On the day of try-outs, I was the second-to-last to perform for the judges. I thought I did a decent job: I remembered to constantly smile the biggest, cheesiest smile I could muster, and I was as bouncy and cutesy as anyone. But the stars were not lined up in my favor. ____Jo was after me. Yes, she wowed them all.
Each judge gave points for certain items they felt particularly important, (and I am certain hair color was one of them). It was the ridiculous custom to call out the winners in front of everyone, giving the number of points earned by each contestant. Other girls' names were called, beginning with those who had earned the most points. After the expected squeals, tears, hugs, and laughter, everyone moved aside. There was just one spot on the squad left. The air was tense, ____Jo and I held our breaths, and then, of course, her name was called. Just one point separated us. She gave me a little "Sorry" and hopped off to join the other winners, who, if I remember correctly, all had long blond hair.
This experience was a life-changer for me, at least in my junior-high life. I walked home alone (who hangs around a loser?) and spent the evening in my bedroom convinced that I would never amount to anything. For the next couple of years I hated all cheerleaders and would not participate in the cheers they led at games. In fact, I tried to become the opposite of all that was bouncy, cutesy, or blondish. I believe I even died my hair black for a time. Anyone who says, "It doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's how you play the game" really does not understand the mind of a middle school girl.
Thankfully, time was a healer, and while never a close friend of _____Jo, I did forgive her for earning that one more point. While the jury is still out, I do believe I ended up a pretty decent individual with some admirable achievements. I mean, I did win the 7th grade science fair didn't I?
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