But I 39-m. Cheerleader <RECOMMENDED ⟶>

We are not a series of contradictions. We are a routine: each move flowing into the next, the high-energy chant making space for the quiet huddle, the fall making the recovery mean something.

After class, she asked what I wanted to write my final paper on. I said I didn’t know. She said: “Write about the magic. Write about what it costs to be the one who makes everyone else feel brave.”

“Yes. And?”

Because the and is the whole point. The and is where the power lives. The and is the basket toss you stick after a hundred falls. The and is the girl who leads the chant, then leads the classroom discussion, then leads the movement to change the rules entirely.

So when I say “but I’m a cheerleader” now, I mean something specific. but i 39-m. cheerleader

So I did. And for the first time, I wrote “I am a cheerleader” without the but .

I mean: you see a skirt. I see armor.

These days, when someone tries to dismiss me with a smirk and a “but you’re a cheerleader,” I don’t get defensive. I don’t explain. I just smile—full, bright, the kind of smile that says I know something you don’t —and I say: