This morning I was thinking about the role of a cheerleader in offering social support. Being a cheerleader and wearing a uniform was instant personal attention but the megaphones, pom poms, microphones, exaggerated moves-were intended to grab attention and lead the crowd in cheers to unify support. The big crowd chants and cheers were the BEST. Cheerleading power led to community service and doing something less frivolous than merely shaking my butt. The athletes remarked how they played better when they felt the crowd behind them. It was in these moments when I wore my red and white Lancer uniform with pride.
I remember how exciting it was to wear my cheer uniform for the first time. It was much less exciting by senior year wearing our cheer get ups 4 out of 5 days a week to show "support" whenever any sport had a game. Some of the cheerleaders complained about never getting to wear her own clothes. Oh the hardship! I remember another incident sitting around with our squad in the bleachers arguing about uniforms and hurt feelings. Can't quite remember the specifics now. It was just selfish and ugly. It was also ugly when some of the cheerleaders basically told the dance teacher to f off while refusing to have any kind of organized class -mean girls unleashed.
Why is it that we have a tendency to pull each other down, instead of cheer each other on? What is so threatening about others success that we feel like we have to make it all about us? Can you truly be happy for another person and encourage them to be their best-even if they are better than you? In those moments when people ascend to the throne, are we like the hag yelling, "Queen of Refuse" and throwing rotten tomatoes? I saw that yesterday in my small microcosm of a little girls during an expression group. It seemed like a good idea at the time-give them a microphone to sing and support one another. It quickly became apparent whoever held the microphone, held the the scepter of power. It was the "all about me" show. Whoever held the microphone also became the target. One little girl received quite the verbal lashing from her peers. Group focus of expression and social support definitely not met. One particularly dysregulated girl, yelled "BOOOO" with so much venom, or in this case spittle drooling down her beet red face, it seemed like her head was spinning around and eyes were popping out. Can you see it? I sure could all last night, as visions of my own tribe of mean girls danced through my head. It was no surprise that singer had difficulty ignoring the taunting, left the room crying, and stated how everyone hated her.
I contrast that to the feeling I had earlier in the week while participating in the temple to temple run/walk. Throughout the 5k, there was such a spirit of community. It was a family run-high school teens from x-country teams, kids on push scooters, mothers strolling their babies, lots of people young and old walking, even a couple of people pushing a handcart in pioneer garb. There was more peer pressure to walk than to keep up with the fit crowd. Missionaries were sprinkled along the path giving us high fives; hair salon students were gathered on the corner banging gongs and chanting cheers; strangers were gathered near the finish line, all clapping and cheering everyone-one by one. The scene was so supportive of every individual effort-cheering us on to finish our race. It made me cry as I thought of the truth of the moment.
I have people on the other side, and people living right now-people all around me who love me and are cheering me on with a great big smile. Together they chant and tell me to valiantly finish my race. My race might be not be of the same athletic caliber of my peers, but it is still my trek. Some of these people are close to me, others are strangers I barely know me but they still add their voices. The sound of the crowd encourages me. It gives me courage to keep fighting-keep pressing forward. I need much less tomato throwing and much more pom poms shaking. Oh how I need cheerleaders!
No comments:
Post a Comment