Cheering Blind by Deja Powell (Transcript in Description) #BATeenCast

The following podcast was recorded for use by customers of Minnesota’s State Services for the Blind. You can get more information about State Services for the Blind and the services it offers by going to www (dot) mnssb (dot) org. I’m Stuart Holland. (music) Cheering Blind by Deja Powell This is the first part of an article that appeared originally in Future Reflections, Volume 34, number 2. Recently I received an email from a young woman who has ambitions of trying out for her high school's cheerleading squad. She wanted to know if it was possible for someone like her, who is blind, to be a cheerleader. Her desire to be a cheerleader hit close to home. I had the same aspiration when I was in high school. I grew up in Salt Lake City and have been blind since birth. When I entered high school I was quite shy. I was thrilled to be out of junior high and on to bigger and better things, but I lacked confidence and struggled to accept my blindness. Like any teenager, I was trying to figure out who I was, where I fit in, and what my goals and dreams really were. I was confused about a lot of things, but I knew one thing for sure. I knew I wanted to be involved in everything high school had to offer. Determined to build my confidence, I set a personal goal to step up and step out. My mom is a dance teacher, and I started dancing when I was two years old. I loved every style and every minute of it! For as long as I could remember, the thing I wanted to do most in high school was dance. Much to my dismay, things didn't go as I had hoped. I didn't make the drill team or the dance company. I was crushed! I wanted it more than I'd wanted anything to that point in my life. I knew I could be a dancer; my mom had always told me and shown me I could do it. What now? I still had to reach my goal of getting involved. I have always loved sports. I love the thrill of the game, I love being part of a team, and I wanted to be involved with my school. What better way to be involved and support my school's teams than becoming a cheerleader? I loved the idea of cheerleading, but I honestly couldn't understand how I could do it. I had never met nor heard of another blind cheerleader, and I sincerely doubted it was possible for a blind person to meet such a set of challenges. How could a blind person follow a game, learn cheer movements, find the proper place in group routines, do stunts, execute jumps, or stay in sync? The list went on and on. Even if I actually made the cheering squad, I would have to tell my advisors that I was blind (or rather, that I had a vision problem, which is how I worded it back then). That scared me more than stunting or performing. I had become very good at keeping my blindness a secret. I didn't use a cane or read Braille, and I was quite talented at pretending I could see things that I really couldn't. I expressed my concerns about cheerleading to my mom, and she told me that I just needed to try out. She assured me that we would figure it all out when the time came. Nevertheless, my doubts got the upper hand. I canceled all my plans to try out for the cheerleading squad. My fears were just too much. However, my mom was not having it. She reminded me that I said I wanted to be a cheerleader; at least I had to give it a try. She's a smart mom! I cried myself to sleep the night before the tryouts, but I did try out, and I made it! I did sophomore cheerleading in tenth grade, and then I made the varsity squad my junior and senior years. But how did we make it work? I say we, because it really did take a whole team effort. My coaches and my squad quickly learned to adapt things to make cheerleading possible for me. My coaches showed me the moves by placing my arms in the correct positions, and I quickly learned the names for the various cheer maneuvers. High V, low V, T, half T, herkies, toe touches, stag jumps, high kicks, and hurdles—I learned them all. My learning process was very much hands-on. Fortunately I had terrific coaches and teammates who were always willing to step in and correct me. One aspect of cheerleading that I thought I would never be a part of was stunting. The idea that I could be part of a routine that involved throwing girls into the air seemed way out of the realm of possibility. But my coaches threw me right in with everyone else. We always counted out when the stunt was going up and coming down. While this is already a common practice in cheerleading, it worked perfectly for me. My coaches never ruled anything out. They let me try it all until we figured out what worked. My coaches included me in every aspect of the squad. They pushed me just as hard as they pushed everyone else. They made me run laps when I was late, corrected me when I made mistakes, yelled at me when I deserved it (like when I rolled my eyes at my coach). That was exactly what I needed. They had the same expectations for me that they had for the other cheerleaders, and that was a huge part of my success. The other important part of my success was keeping a dialog open with my coaches. I wasn't always great at that. I needed to ask lots of questions, to ask for help and reach out to others for ideas. Being silent and just wondering how to do something never worked for me. Cheerleading was not exactly where I aspired to be in the beginning, but it turned out to be the best confidence builder I could have found. I was part of a team and part of my school. I realized that, as a blind person, I really could do anything I wanted to, as long as I had the right tools, the right attitude, and the right people setting high expectations for me. Do I wish I had made my life easier by using a cane? Could I have reached out to other blind people such as Pam Allen, who was also a cheerleader? Do I wish I had been more confident in my blindness? Absolutely! But cheerleading turned out to be a great starting point for me on my journey.