My life as a cheerleader
My life as a cheerleader.
Ok, just pulling your leg, whatever that means. I was never a high school cheerleader, waving my pom-poms, elevating team spirit, doing splits or somersaults. (No, wait a minute, I probably could have managed the somersaults.)
Cheerleaders were the bubbly, perky, and popular girls. Me? I was on the debate team. My gymnastic ability extended to the juggling of words. Pom-poms were, generally, not a feature in debate tournaments. And bubbly? Probably much more likely, sarcastic.
The years rolled by. (Have you noticed how frequently this happens?) A change occurred. I’ve evolved into, and it’s so embarrassing to say, a cheerleader. Me! Of all people. At long last, a skilled somersaulter and performer of splits?
Well, maybe not that particular version of cheerleading. But the cheerleader’s role of elevating others? You bet!
Huh?
Gosh, I think that’s a pretty straightforward statement. Elevating the spirits of others. Is this too saccharine, or Shirley Temple-like?
No way.
I can still curse up a storm (generally when alone in my living room.) Only very, very rarely do I shoot the finger at an outrageous driver (I’m usually dangerously low in blood sugar when that occurs.) Hanging my head, in shame, at responsibly (don’t you mean irresponsibly?) dealing with recycling. I, occasionally, REALLY YELL at the purgatory of automated phone systems because I feel trapped and unheard. (You’ve been there, too?) For the most part, though, I choose to happily embody my self-designated cheerleader role. “Elevating spirits is now my middle name!”
Ok, ok, I get the point! But one doesn’t, generally, evolve from debate nerd to a cheerleader (whoopee!) for the masses. You know?
I see your point. This was certainly not a lickety-split evolution. In all honesty, I don’t know how it transpired, but I think I’m going to blame E.B. White for it.
E.B. White? Who….
E.B.White, the author of that classic children’s book, Charlotte’s Web.
“I am often mad, but would hate to be nothing but mad. I would lose what value I have if I were to refuse to accept the warming rays of the sun and report them…”
Hmmm….. maybe I’m not a cheerleader after all, but a reporter, instead? Well, who’s picky here? Not me. No reason I can’t do both, is there? Report life’s warming rays of the sun and cheerlead us all in celebrating them.
As we speak, much needed elevators of spirit tryouts are happening. Come one, come all….