Saturday, September 15, 2007

As we walked towards the gate, Hilary hugged me and ran to catch up with the other girls. I paid my 5 dollars and attempted to pass through. The lady, and I use that term loosely, who was the gatekeeper was scolding the cheerleaders. The teens were respectful, in spite of the attack. At this point the cheer coach walked up and the two adults began an unpleasant exchange of words.



I was relieved when the bickering stopped and I could pass through the gate. As I found a spot on the cold metal bleachers, the words of these two women replayed in my mind. I was disappointed in their behavior. Did they realize the impact their barbed, disrespectful words had on the young people watching?

Why had I arrived 30 minutes early? It certainly wasn't because I loved soccer. I was pretty certain that in 2 1/2 hours my back would sorely complain at having sat for so long without support. Speaking of support, where were the other parents? I mentally counted the players from both teams, warming up on the field. I added the number of cheerleaders & poms. More than 50 students were involved in this event. Not counting friends, siblings, grandparents or other significant people, if only one parent from each family represented showed up, shouldn't I be able to find 50 spectators? Again I pondered what messages we, as adults, were sending to our children.

"Ladies & Gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem." The voice from the P.A. system startled me. I rose and turned to face the flag. As the rousing music rang forth I noticed hands on hearts, hats removed, everyone standing at attention. My eyes began to tear. My thoughts turned to my father-in-law. He was a fighter pilot in the Korean War. He witnessed the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air.

Below the flag was the concession stand and the restrooms. At that moment, a gentleman exited the latrine. He immediately turned, removed his hat, placed his hand on his heart and began singing along. Patriotism was still alive.

After the game began, a few more parents and students filed into the stadium. I listened to various conversations around me. I was a little embarrassed at some of the things I heard. Right before the 2 minute warning of half-time, one parent began screaming, "Stop the clock! Stop the clock!" The announcer must have been tired of hearing the complaints, shouts, and insults. He addressed her shouting.

"The clock is not stopped unless the referee signals. There was no signal." I would have been ashamed for being so obnoxious. This parent was not and yelled back, "that was why I was yelling at the ref! I wanted him to signal." I cringed. A group of 20 or so students had gathered to watch the game. They turned their heads in unison to see that this parent was from the opposing team.

The cheerleaders began a cheer. I clapped along. I noticed a girl wearing her softball jersey. She tapped the boy sitting next to her and said, "it's the cheerleaders job to get the crowd enthusiastic about our team, to cheer them on and support them. Come on and get with it." He did, as did most of the other students.

I hadn't noticed the couple sitting behind me. They must have come during the 2 minutes before the half. I took note when the woman spoke wearily, "I guess I can sit through a few more cheers." I wanted to turn and see who she was-hoping it was not the parent of a cheerleader. It wasn't. As she continued talking loudly, I realized her son was a soccer player.

The signal for the end of the half rang out. The cheerleaders gathered and sat at the edge of the field. This woman spoke mockingly, "what are they doing sitting down? Where is our half-time entertainment?" It was obvious that she was annoyed at having to endure what she perceived as silly girls.

I churned inside. I wanted to swing around and tell her that the reason the cheerleaders were sitting down on the field is because they were supporting their school. The poms were making their way to the field and it was the poms who danced at half time. The cheerleaders and poms were there to cheer and encourage not only one another, but mostly to support the soccer team. I wanted to tell her to ask her son if he appreciated the support he got from the poms and cheers. I wanted to tell her that my son played on the Varsity Lacrosse team for 4 years in high school. He and his team would have been thrilled and overjoyed to have the support of the cheerleaders. My son told me on numerous occasions how encouraged he felt when he heard his own dad's shouts of cheer from the sidelines.

I didn't say anything. I was too busy getting my camera out to videotape my daughter's pom routine.

My thoughts would not be quiet. As I heard this woman again, I wanted to whip around and tell her that I'd sat here watching her son play for the last 45 minutes. I'd cheered & clapped. Where had she been during most of that first half? Could she not respect my daughter's 2 minutes of dancing? Did she think I was there because I was a huge fan of high school soccer? I was suprised how angry I was. Then it hit me.

Was I any different than the cheer coach who tried to defend her girls from the barrage of words hurled at them by the gatekeeper? I understood her passion. I didn't understand the adults who chose to be disrespectful of our kids and others. Were my thoughts towards this woman as wrong as her words towards the girls? Did this count as righteous indignation?

The coach who'd argued with the gate keeper hadn't raised her voice. She had been reasonable. The coach had merely pointed out that the woman just needed to ask the girls politely and they would comply. I don't think she'd intended for the exchange to go on as long as it had. The gatekeeper had continued to disparage the girls as if they'd been naughty children. She fired back that the rules were the same from year to year and these girls knew them. The bewildered coach interrupted that many of the girls were new to the squad and this was their first game. The gatekeeper didn't care, didn't believe it. She seemed bent on proving that teenagers were miserable creatures. I wonder if the coaches reaction emerged from her shock at the disrespectful behavior from this adult. The same disappointed confusion I felt throughout the game.

Where was the loyalty, respect, and support for the school and students that I'd seen for the flag and National Anthem? I am proud of the youth. They displayed integrity throughout the night. These are not the kids who give teenagers a bad name.

3 comments:

Melany aka Supermom said...

It's sad when it comes to that. ALL the children should be supported. I can't imagine letting my son(s) play a match and me or at least ONE of our family members not be therez

Dorcas (aka SingingOwl) said...

This made me very sad. What has happened to us?

2nd Cup of Coffee said...

Oh, man, this is such a commentary on society. You sound like a really great mom.