I originally went to the dance team’s prep classes as part of a class project. The goal was to go to a club that we’d “never imagine we’d join”. So the former high school football player went to a chess club meeting, the international student went to an election night event, and I – a marching band girl who’d exclusively wear one-piece bathing suits to the beach – went to Dance Team. I went there because they scared me. I saw them at Involvement Fest with their slightly revealing uniforms and their shining confidence. I imagined myself in their position and thought it was ridiculous but a few months later, there I was, in front of the whole Event Center in that same uniform. I was attracted to the feeling of sisterhood.
I had never been so hyper aware of my body until that year. I asked other girls how they felt about their stomachs and how can they be so comfortable during practice wearing only a sports bra and leggings (which was required for each practice)? And some of them admitted it took some getting used to. We were all there for each other when we got comments on our bodies. I was encouraged to lose weight and tan my skin for aesthetic reasons. “The lights will wash you out if you look that pale”. I had already had insecure feelings about my identity as a Latina and the idea of getting a fake tan only worsened those thoughts. But I eventually gave in, I started counting calories in my head and exercising every other day. That year, I lost 10 pounds and bought self-tanner. And I will admit, that was when I felt the most attractive. Despite being tired a lot of the time – because I probably wasn’t eating enough – I felt good about myself.
That semester in gender studies we read some excerpts of Ways of Seeing by John Berger. “Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at.” I was reminded of this at every performance and every practice. And our coach reminded us too, that we are being watched so don’t slouch, keep smiling, and if you need to fix your hair, use a hair-flip and not your hands. Eventually, I didn’t mind being looked at and even embraced it at some points. There were a lot of aspects of dance and cheer culture that were focused on us being a spectacle. All of our tattoos had to be covered with concealer and we couldn’t dye our hair any crazy colors. Before taking photos, we’d hear “Suck in your tummies, ladies!”.
Now that I’m not surrounded by that culture anymore, I can recognize how much damage it may have caused me. I gained some of that weight back and am less tired now. I also made a lot of friends from the experience that were also hurt by these body-expectations. Now I enjoy dancing on my own and cheering the team on from the sidelines. The dance team still has a lot of my love and respect, I just can’t imagine myself there with them anymore.
Unruly Bodies 
I always wondered how the dance team felt being so hyper-visible, especially as women, so this was interesting to read. Even when I’m in public doing something typical like running errands, there are moments where I am hyper aware of myself and what I may look like to others. So I can’t imagine the pressure you’d have being on the dance team, where you’re required to wear revealing uniforms and appear a certain way in front of an audience, while also dealing with the already present societal pressures.
Wow. This story took me to so many emotional places that I didn’t even know were possible. First off, great writing!! Second, I, too, was a marching band nerd, wearing one piece bathing suits, and felt like I was right next to you in your discomfort. While in marching band, we are used to being seen and watched, but there is an idea of hiding behind shakos and identical uniforms to avoid distinguishing one person from another. I’m sure the dance team threw you out of your element, but it sounds like you grew so much from it. I also love that you got the chance to write about it and still hold respect for the dancers. It sounds like these dancers are experiencing a lot of societal pressures that you were able to escape from.
I found this blog post to be so helpful. As a collegiate athlete myself, I can relate to your story with how there seems to be this added pressure on females especially athletes, that they have to look a certain way in order to fit in. There are more times than I can count where I felt like I needed to change my appearance and conform to what society was telling me I should look like. It’s interesting to read how our bodies are always subject to judgement and opinions, no matter the sport or activity. I’m so glad that you’re able to finally enjoy the sport and be comfortable in your own skin! I see so much growth in the words that you wrote and it’s comforting to know that others can get past the lies that tell us “we’re not enough” and be confident in their own body!
I danced for eight years and even though I danced with a rec team I still felt many of these sentiments while I was dancing. Though my dance teacher never explicitly told me to lose weight I still felt that if I did it would make me a better dancer. It was hard for me to get used to wearing a leotard and tights at first but by my 8th year I was uncomfortable wearing anything but this outfit to dance practice. When you dance your bodies and your movement is on display for those watching, it’s the purpose of the act. It is only natural to try to fit the beauty standard when you are putting yourself out there like that.
It’s so interesting how no one has to tell us that we should make our bodies smaller–we often just *know.* It’s part of what makes this all so dangerous. Thank you all for sharing!