Netflix’s "Cheer" Challenges Stereotypes of Cheerleaders
Cheerleading is for the rich.
We were recently interviewed by a reporter from the UK convinced that cheerleading was the British equivalent of cricket, that is, a sport only the wealthiest can afford. Yes, competitive cheerleading is expensive with gym fees, uniforms and accessories, traveling expenses, and private coaching. But Navarro cheerleaders Jerry Harris, Morgan Simianer, and La’Darius Marshall are not anomalies in the cheer world. Competitive cheer squads are comprised of athletes from all socioeconomic classes. It turns out that cheer parents are remarkably similar to parents of baseball, football, hockey, and soccer players. They will make enormous financial sacrifices, so their children can participate in the sports they love. However, in Cheer La’Darius hints at the unfair advantage affluent kids have in making it onto one of the competitive squads. Comparing himself to some of his more affluent team members who don’t seem to be giving it their all, he calls them out on their privilege and reminds them that he has had to work doubly hard and make many more sacrifices than they to be where he is today.
Cheerleading is a girl thing.
For the first fifty years of its existence, cheerleading was considered a masculine activity in which only males participated. It wasn’t until the 1950s that cheerleading became a predominantly female activity. With the surge of competitive cheerleading, boys have returned to cheerleading, although their numbers are far below those of girls. But, on the Navarro cheerleading squad, there are more guys than girls.
Cheerleaders are at the top of the social hierarchy.
Cheerleaders are often pictured in popular media as the rich, snobby, mean girls who rule their school. Lexi Brumback, arguably the best tumbler on Navarro’s squad, is a far cry from the popular, all-American “girl next door.” She fights; she ran away from home; she’s been in jail and she never graduated from high school. She earned her GED so she could cheer at Navarro. But La’Darius, who was bullied in high school, Morgan, who was taken in by her grandparents after basically being abandoned by her father and step-mother, and Gabi Butler, who never attended high school because she was homeschooled her entire life, also defy stereotypical images of cheerleaders as being the prettiest, most popular, and most envied at their school.
Cheerleaders (and their moms) are backbiters who mow down anyone who gets in their way.
No doubt the Navarro cheerleaders are competitive. They fight hard to stand out as the best of the best. After all, they are all vying for one of the 20 coveted spots “on the mat” - the squad that will actually compete in nationals at Daytona. But what has drawn millions of viewers to this sleeper hit series is the camaraderie and deep affection the team members have for each other. They are constantly building each other up; helping each other out, and cheering each other on. This is, of course, best personified in Jerry. While this scrappy squad has earned the love and admiration of its viewers, cheerleaders have typically not fared so well in public portrayals. Perhaps this goes back to 1991 when Texas cheerleader mom Wanda Holloway paid a hit man to murder the mother of her daughter’s fiercest rival in cheerleading. This sensational story led to two made-for-TV movies, and ever since, cheerleading has become associated with the worst of helicopter moms and social-climbing, jealous, vicious cheerleaders. Cheer tells a very different story about the bonds cheerleaders forge with one another. Few other sports require such trust in order to be successful as a team. This is what drew Cheer director Greg Whiteley to competitive cheerleading after spending four years filming college football players for his previous hit series Last Chance U. “I think it’s pretty easy to go through life without having that kind of bond with anyone outside of maybe your family,” Whiteley told TheWrap.
Cheerleading coaches are former cheerleaders clinging to their younger selves by living vicariously through their squad.
Cheerleading coaches also have not fared well in popular media. But, Navarro’s Coach Monica Aldama is the coach we all want for our own children. She is the cheerleading equivalent of the University of Alabama’s football coach, Nick Saban. She is a brilliant strategist, knows her sport backward and forward, expects the most of her athletes, doesn’t take any of their bullshit, and runs her program like a business. Gay, straight, black or white - she loves her cheerleaders and defends them like they are her own children. And it’s very apparent, they love her back, while also being a tad scared of her, particularly when her alter-ego “Annette” comes out.
Cheerleading is not a sport.
The millions of viewers binging on Cheer are witnessing what insiders have always known. Competitive cheerleading is more akin to football and rugby than it is to the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Even former skeptics and naysayers are now scratching their heads and asking, “Why isn’t cheerleading considered a sport?” Competition, practice, preparation, athletic skills, injuries, specialized language, strategy, coaching: what else could you call what the Navarro cheerleaders are doing?