This article contains spoilers, references to body shaming, and mentions of eating disorders.
I took a break from Netflix recently. Not for any reason other than being deep in a rewatch of Dance Moms on another platform. When I returned to Netflix, I was glad to ease my transition from weeks of pirouettes and controversial dance teachers to high kicks and controversial cheerleading teams in the form of a new seven-part docuseries, America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. And I loved it.
The unscripted series follows the American football’s Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders (fondly dubbed ‘DCC’) through the yearly process of whittling down the hundreds of candidates auditioning for a spot on the team, down to 36 who survive a quite frankly brutal training camp and stride out onto the field. It’s an insightful glance into the world behind the glitz and glam of professional cheerleading.
Ever since watching, I’ve been sporadically shouting ‘THUNDER’ (a nod to one of their most iconic numbers, ‘Thunderstruck’) and regretting that I stopped jumping into the splits at some point during my dancing days. If only I’d known it would be a helpful skill all these years later.
As much as I loved the show, I feel a bit guilty for enjoying it as much as I did. What’s sat with me since, is how much pressure there is on the team and that so much of their training, role, and lifestyle could, and clearly can be, damaging to their wellbeing, yet they often speak of it all in such high regard. So, let’s break it down.
“She is pretty. She just needs to be polished.”
From episode 1, one thing becomes apparent: in DCC world, image is everything. A monumental rebrand for the Dallas Cowboys in the 1970s sent the success of the DCC into the stratosphere when the brand manager moved from high school Cheerleaders to over-18s with a new, more mature look. Seemingly it was an iconic move as the team were soon famously recognisable for their uniform and flare, earning the label ‘America’s Sweethearts’ cementing the image ideal from then on.
Across the series, the importance of the DCC ‘look’ is highlighted, even being incorporated into the earliest audition with judgement not just on talent, but also personal appearance, poise, and figure. As we watch hundreds of women submit online auditions in the show, “She is pretty. She just needs to be polished” and comments alike aren’t unheard of. While the DCC states no specific height and weight requirements (aside from ‘looking well-proportioned in dancewear’), it does seem to come up… actually, quite often. My unrealistic ambitions of hopping on a plane to Dallas were quickly destroyed when Ariana McClure (a similar height to me) didn’t make the team, due to her short stature, unbeknownst to her at the time.
Flashbacks to veteran team member Victoria Kalina’s earlier auditions saw comments from years before about her “not being at her trimmest state” and being advised to “tone her tummy” during weekly weigh-ins. Watching these scenes play out does feel like taking a step back into the beauty standards of the 70s and looking past the body positivity we strive for these days. There are other mentions of ensuring the Cheerleaders ‘fuel’ themselves sufficiently, which I hope is a sign of having some degree of support available.
Victoria stole viewers’ hearts when she candidly opened up about her mental health struggles. Speaking about her experiences with depression, Victoria notes that during depressive episodes her eating habits become negative, leading to a cycle of binging and purging (eating large amounts of food at once and then compensating by removing it from the body). The purging, in particular, she linked to getting into that ‘baby uniform’, and acknowledged perfectionist tendencies which were a battle during her time in the DCC. It is revealed that Victoria took a year out of DCC to focus on herself and sought therapy before returning to the team – a very positive message for prioritising mental health.
It’s not about the pay. But what about the burnout?
Social media was buzzing when we all learnt that being a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader was not only not a full-time job, but also not a well-paid part-time one either, meaning many of the DCC spend their days nursing for unwell children, or doing dentistry before switching out scrubs for stars and sparkles.
I felt exhausted for her as veteran Kelcey Wetterberg described starting her full-time nursing role at 7:30am, heading straight to practice after, and often not returning home until midnight. I can’t help but think of burnout, a state of physical and mental exhaustion, especially seeing as it seems like a part-time job with a full-time workload. The show opens eyes to how Cheerleading is as an athletic sport as any, the physical demands on the body and mind are intense so all credit to those heading to practice after a day’s work, performing on game days, and doing the appearances and volunteer work that also comes with the position. The pay, which means they often have to have ‘regular’ jobs to sustain themselves, is now being widely questioned given the financial success of the Dallas Cowboys brand and the, let’s say, slightly more generous pay awarded to the football players.
While Kelcey spoke candidly about how tiring it was, she showed how passionate she remained. You give up a lot,” she says, “but it’s five years of your life, and the moments here are so special. It’s something that I’ll never get to do anything like this ever again. And they’re moments that I’ll cherish for the rest of my life, so it’s worth it.”
The power of sisterhood and sparkle
The docuseries has opened the doors for critics. Social media and media outlets across the globe have been sharing their concerns. One article writes, “We see DCC management weaponize this altruism to inflict a host of harms, from eating disorders and broken hips to embarrassingly low wages and performances in horrendous temperatures”. While criticisms are rife, so is the buzz, you only have to head to social media to see user after user trying their hand at the DCC signature kick lines. One thing is for sure, it’s both captivating and polarising.
Despite the negatives, what shines through is the passion and idea of ‘sisterhood’ that encompasses the DCC. “It is about a sisterhood that they were able to form, about relationships they have for the rest of their life. They have a chance to feel like they’re valued, and they’re special, and that they’re making a difference. When the women come here, they find their passion and they find their purpose” says Executive Vice President and Chief Brand Officer, Charlotte Jones in an early episode.
So long as you are on the inside, the support appears to be crucial protection for the DCCs, particularly evident as viewers are given an insight into some of the safety concerns that arise. In harrowing moments, we are told of a stalking incident experienced by Kelcey, and see the fallout of another DCC, Sophy (Sophia Laufer), having been inappropriately touched by a cameraman during a game. Immediately, the Cheerleaders run to the support of their team members, and let’s be honest, supporting and uplifting your team is fundamentally what cheerleading is all about.
Social support has been shown over and over to be beneficial, with a lack of social support a prominent risk factor for poor mental health, proving why this is one of the more positive insights we get from the DCC. “When one person hurts, we all hurt” says one of the DCC.
As critical as you can be about the reality of the DCC, and it is important to note that I haven’t gone into everything here, one thing I think is important to avoid overlooking is that sharing the downsides, particularly aspects which may be damaging to mental health and wellbeing, means it’s spoken about. And when we speak about things, it’s often the marker for change. Perhaps the DCC and other Cheerleading and sporting organisations alike will be able to implement change and provide extra protection for all involved moving forward. And none of it takes away from the success, talent, and resilience of the Cheerleaders on the team which still can, and should, be celebrated.
As it turns out, the launch of the series on Netflix is not actually the beginning – there have been 16 previous seasons aired on other platforms and apparently, some of what I have touched on is even more outrageous in the earlier take. Safe to say you might not hear from me for a while. I’ll be practising my high kicks and searching all the DCCs on social media to see if America’s Sweethearts are ok.