The Wonder Years

I recently had a chance to look back on the ugly time of my life as a cheerleader with a wonderful sense of nostalgia!  How great is it when the brutally painful times in our lives suddenly become lovely pictures in our mental photo albums?
Last week, I was teaching in what would be the equivalent of a 9th grade class in the US, and we began talking about extra-curriculars and sports and some girls eagerly told me that they were part of a cheerleading group!  To which I giddily replied, “I was a cheerleader!!” yep, I did…
They visited me in the teacher’s conference room and asked if I would like to go to one of their cheer practices!  I could not have felt more honored and I think my waning sense of inclusion actually jumped a couple of scores.
So, I walked into the gym where 3 girls were already stretching.  They asked if I would like to see anything and they nervously deliberated over what piece I might enjoy the most.  They showed me 3 of their freshly choreographed dances, and I was 14 again, wanting to take off my boots and dance along.  After watching for a few minutes, one girl showed me her book of cheers (some English and some German) and I dug into the cheerleading file cabinet in the 2002 section of my brain and managed to remember two, which I added to her journal.
Finally, as if they had expected it all along, they asked me if I could teach them anything.  I think I blushed with pride.  8 years may have passed since my cheer days, but tonight, in Gmunden, Austria, I was the American cheerleader, and so, an expert!
I took off my boots and overcoat and did some stretches, suddenly beginning to wonder if I was still physically capable of doing a toe touch.  I did my best and showed them some jumps they hadn’t seen before and probably would have preferred to have seen done by my 17-year-old sister, but this was my time in the spotlight!
Then, I gave them some pointers on stunting, which really had less to do with cheerleading acumen and more to do with common sense safety procedures.  But they were more than thankful and when I left, I felt like I had just given them a real (or nearly so) piece of the great US of A.