This audio commentary was aired on WKSU on June 20, 2000 and on NPR's All Things Considered on June 22, 2000. This commenraty is really meant to be listened to...without hearing the audio, it won't make a lot of sense (or be as much fun).

Audio version of the commentary. You can listen to the slightly different NPR version here.

This is my favorite time of year. It has nothing to do with warm temperatures, blue skies, or long days - but has everything to do with cheerleader camp.

Mind you - cheerleader camp is not something that I attend - nor is it fodder for jokes about guys watching young girls strut around in tiny skirts. Cheerleader camp is actually something I've never even seen. To me, cheerleader camp is a sound that rolls across the hills between the practice fields and the building where I work. Every day, for six weeks, the muggy summer air is filled with the sound of cheerleaders.

At the end of the school year, when the dorms across from my office empty of college students, unwashed clothing, and discarded beer cans, they are used by small groups for conferences, programs, and the like. For the next several weeks, groups of young girls will gather for several days of intense training in - how to be a cheerleader.

They work morning, noon, and night — practicing cheers and routines - learning how to jump higher, kick straighter, and get more friction on those pompoms. Sometimes they all practice together — other times they perform in small groups followed by roars of applause and encouragement from the rest. Every morning when I arrive at work, they are cheering. In the middle of the day, as I come and go for lunch, there they are - cheering away.

When I was in high school, I disdained the cheerleaders. Honestly, it had little to do with the fact that none of them would date me - and more with their inability to function on my enlightened level. You see, in high school I was a "seeker of truth" and was disgusted with all things that seemed fake and hypocritical - which - at age 17 - was pretty much everything. The cheerleaders were the epitome of artificial happiness - they would walk around on game days in their color-coordinated outfits and wear buttons featuring their favorite fight slogan or athlete's picture. During pep rallies and games they would perform all their routines to really "pump up" the players and fans. They were so damn - happy. "How plastic," I thought. "Do they really think all this happiness is doing any good?"

In the sixteen years since I graduated from high school, I've learned to lighten up a little. And now, when I hear the cheerleaders at camp across the street, I love to fantasize that they are cheering for me. As I walk in the door each morning, they are there - telling me to "Go, go, go - fight, fight fight." When I leave the building to go to a meeting, they are telling me "You can do it. We believe in you."

On several occasions, I've even opened my window during the day for a little extra dose of enthusiasm. They are there, cheering me on when I can't seem to finish that report - telling me that I'm N-U-M-B-E-R 1! When the phone won't stop ringing and I don't know how I'll keep up, my cheerleaders are there saying I am the man - if I can’t do it, no one can!
 
I have come to see cheerleader camp as a celebration. A celebration of a time when you were certain that with the right amount of enthusiasm - you could do anything. A time when you weren't ashamed to show support for something you believed in. A time when having color-coordinated sweaters and socks really meant something special. Now, I understand that these girls stand out there all day in the hot sun, day after day, practicing over and over and over - because they truly believe they can make a difference.

If you only knew, ladies - if you only knew.