Cheerleader Envy

With nothing much to do this past Sunday, coupled with the fact that it was damn hot here in Austin, I watched the final four episodes of the Cheerleader U, Season 2 marathon on the Women’s Entertainment network. The show followed the University of Central Florida's cheerleading squad through the Universal Cheerleaders’ Association national championships held each January. Snarky thought in 3, 2, 1...

I didn’t watch the show to see how the squad fared in the 2008 championships, even though they were defending champions of their 2007 title. I watched to see how much the campus had changed at UCF, because that’s where I earned my undergraduate degree. I was super excited to take a trip down memory lane… ah… football games, homecoming, campus life, and studying, lots of studying (I swear!).

What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was to become totally enthralled in the fate of the squad. Now, it’s important for me to share that since high school and maybe even middle school, I have suffered from cheerleader envy. I was a tall child and fairly clumsy; I still take the occasional spill for no reason other than that damn imaginary crack in the sidewalk. You know… the one you look at after you trip for no reason? And, to make matters worse, I had bright red hair and lots and lots and lots of freckles. I share this information with you not for your sympathy, but to make clear that I have always had a deep, irrational disdain for those cute, pony-tailed, tan beauties that are cheerleaders.

But not this past Sunday. On Sunday, I was transfixed by the UCF squad! Clapping goofily when they stuck a twirly thingy and groaning when they fell down after another twirly thingy went terribly awry. I loved it!

And it got me thinking. My own insecurities as an awkward adolescent manifested into an aversion for cheerleaders. Never mind that I would kill to have my red hair back now. Then, to feel better about myself (I now know), I thought something very serious must have been wrong with those girls for them to be so cute and perky.

And then I wondered how many other women watching the show (it WAS the Women’s Entertainment network and God knows all of Texas was probably damn hot) felt the same way I did as a kid.

Well... clumsy, goofy girls unite! Those cheerleaders aren’t so bad. I guess.

Go, UCF!

It's Good to be King

Think just saying the right thing is enough? Be careful. Your true feelings are most likely on full display. Joe Navarro, a former FBI agent, explains several ways in which we prominently display our true feelings in body language. In particular, the territorial dominance display called “splaying out” prompted me to share a story.

Once upon a time, in a job far, far away, my boss hired a consultant to evaluate our new program and give us advice on our progress. During a meeting, we were discussing some of the challenges we were facing…hotly. Our boss always encouraged us to be authentic in meetings, which translated into contentious, lively debates.

While the rest of us were leaning forward and hip-deep in our discussion, the consultant leaned back and to the side in his chair and stayed that way. Our boss noticed. She calmly reached over, tapped his arm and asked him to sit up. We were shocked. And the consultant was clearly embarrassed.

Afterward, not really understanding what had happened, we asked her why she did it. On first glance, several of us perceived that he was just trying to “stay out of the way” of our debate. Not our boss. She told us that she hired him to help us and that she didn’t appreciate his “it’s good to be king” posture. It dawned on me then that she was right.

Much of what Navarro shares will be familiar to you instinctively, but there are a few that might take you by surprise. Share your body language stories in the comments.

What We Say Without Words – Washington Post