Mat Talk & Cell Blocks
On Thursday I went over to my co-worker’s house for a change in scenery. We thought it would bring a semblance of normalcy into this third lockdown. A throwback to in-office hangouts.
The commute, however, was more overwhelming than nostalgic.
Living life behind my computer screen has made me forget about the little things: how annoying it is carrying around an empty coffee tumbler, the struggle to get out a transit pass with mittens on, the panic of a streetcar route change, following my phone map…What I never used to bat an eye at is now a cause for stress and pre-planning. How is it possible that I used to ride transit every day?
Doing anything “normal” is tainted by our pandemic hindsight. Handshaking is dangerous. Walking too close on the street is a threat. The man coughing outside the convenience store is clearly trying to infect the entire world.
What once was commonplace is now sinister.
Similarly, the second season of Cheer has taken a demoralizing turn. What I once turned to as a comfort show has become a reminder that predators are everywhere, online hate is unavoidable, and past trauma is poised to creep into adulthood.
Not exactly the heartwarming follow-up I was hoping for.
Watching Season Two of Cheer
Tumbling Out of Control
If you didn’t watch the first season, Cheer follows the world of elite cheerleading at Navarro College in Texas. Season one touted inspirational personalities like Morgan, Lexi, La’Darius, and, most notably, Jerry Harris. These kids came from hardship and poured their souls into a sport that doesn’t offer any career prospects after college.
They committed to leaving it all behind in Corsicana, Texas.
After the Netflix release, the core cast skyrocketed into fame. Jerry became a regular on Ellen, did an interview with Joe Biden, and turned into a household name for his high-pitched screams of encouragement – otherwise known as “mat talk.” His story was proof that hard work, talent, and positivity can carry you to new heights.
All you need is a little love and a whole lot of mat talk.
In season two, Netflix wanted to showcase new talent coming into the 2019/2020 team. They focus on rookies, the rival school, and disgruntled athletes who saw their peers rise to fame while they sat on the sidelines. It’s immediately clear that the stakes for Navarro are higher, and the stressors more complicated than the usual athlete drama.
The show quickly dissolves when obstacle after obstacle is hurled at the team. In 2020, COVID forced everyone home, and many of the former stars graduated without another chance at a championship.
When the remaining team regroups at the start of the next school year, Jerry is charged on seven counts related to child pornography and abuse, allegedly having solicited sexual content from between 10 to 15 minors and having sex with a 15-year-old. Jerry was denied bail on the basis that he exhibits all the behaviours of a serial child predator. He’s currently awaiting trial from prison in Illinois, leaving his friends shocked and reeling.
Production doesn’t shy away from the news. Netflix dedicates episode 5 to the whistle-blowers that first accused Jerry of abuse. Sam and Charlie replace Jerry as the heroes of the show, advocating for other victims who haven’t yet come forward. Watching the two 14-year-olds tell their story is more impressive than any stunts thrown on the mat.
While haunting, the episode was clearly a curveball for production. They recycle interviews from season one, highlighting the darker parts of Jerry’s answers that went unnoticed the first time around. With the lens of what’s to come, it’s revolting to hear Jerry say where he would be without the cheerleading community.
I would probably be somewhere on a street right now. I would probably be in and out of jail. I would probably be upset at the world, and I would be hurting others because I would be hurt myself. I would not be where I am today without cheer.
Katja Vujić from The Cut points out eerier moments of foreshadowing. At one point Jerry’s roommates joke about his obsession with watching cheer videos. TT says “I don’t know how you sit there and watch, like, younger teams do competitions.”
Yikes.
The whole season brings a crushing reality to what we all thought was wholesome. While I love the way Netflix has handled the story, I turned to this show for the heartwarming, home-town victory feeling season one gave me. I wanted to ogle over the athleticism of cheerleaders.
Instead, I feel like something else I like has been stripped away. No indoor dining, no groups larger than five, and no escapist cheerleading.
The only pyramid I take part in
A Supportive Base
A major takeaway is the pervasive issue of abuse in cheerleading. Along with Sam and Charlie, Netflix interviews their lawyer, Sarah Klein, and journalists Marisa Kwiatkowski and Tricia L. Nadolny. All three women are closely linked to the Larry Nassar investigation.
The show draws parallels to what happened with USA Gymnastics. Many cheer coaches have been convicted of sex crimes, and yet were still allowed to work with children. Sarah Klein herself was a victim of Larry Nassar, but she didn’t realize she was being abused until allegations were published. At 25 she still understood his practices as normal. How else would he still be working with the organization?
In her Ted Talk, Being Victim 125, Sarah shares her journey to advocacy and the challenges of reporting. Victims aren’t always believed, and children are often brushed off as misinterpreting behaviours. It’s hard enough to come to terms with what has happened to you. Convincing someone else is a whole other hurdle.
Sarah also reminds us that predators are often likeable. She reiterates that Jerry is not an exception. He is an example of how child abusers evade scrutiny and hide in plain sight. He’s peppy-personality and lovable character were safeguards against victims coming forward. It’s much easier to brand the accuser as a liar than to see the “nice guy” as a predator. That said, we need to care more about children’s safety than the reputation of adults.
Sarah praises the bravery of her clients on Instagram, writing:
So proud of Sam, Charlie, and all of the survivors we will never meet who have found their voices. And if you haven’t gotten there yet, you will. We believe you. We believe IN you.
While it’s impossible to understand the struggle of Jerry’s young victims, reckoning with your complicity in his abuse can be unbearable. How do you live knowing that one of your closest friends has ruined children’s lives?
In the show, Jerry’s team grapples with the news. A few feel guilty, as though they could have prevented his behaviour had they looked for the signs. La’Darius, who was abused as a child, dives straight into anger. He spends the second half of the season spiraling out of control, eventually leaving the team and acting out on social media. The blow of it all was clearly too much to bear.
Coach Monica takes Jerry’s arrest particularly hard, breaking down as she talks about someone she once thought of like a son. Back when the news broke, she posted this on Instagram:
My heart is shattered into a million pieces. I am devastated by this shocking, unexpected news. Our children must be protected from abuse and exploitation, and I’m praying hard for the victims and everyone affected. Please respect our privacy as our family mourns during this heartbreaking time.
To Sarah Klein, this wasn’t enough. In her eyes, the only way forward is to apologize. She, and many fans, wanted Monica to take ownership over what she could have done better. To truly stand with survivors is to abolish any sympathy for the abuser.
When then, do you grieve the person that you used to know? We know predators hide in plain sight, but that doesn’t make it any less jarring when one of them is outed.
I never knew Jerry, and I still find myself sad that his mat talk will never again grace my screen. The idea of who he was is a crushing loss, even if it was entirely fake. There has to be room for those feelings as well.
The world turned on Monica in an instant. Endless negative comments about her failures flooded the post, adding insult to injury. In a heartfelt moment, she tells the Netflix interviewers that God must be carrying her forward because otherwise there’s no way she’d still be moving.
Monica after every full out
Stick the Landing
After what these kids (and Monica) have gone through, you’d expect them to need a break. I feel like I need a break just watching.
Instead, the whole team is expected to immediately move on from unimaginable change: a quick rise to fame, a friend behind bars, COVID, mental and physical exhaustion…They have no second to breathe. In their hyper-positivity, they force the feelings down, put on a smile, and finish their full outs.
It is cheerleading after all.
Every misstep is met with minimization. A bad practice is only one day. A stumble in prelim is not the final routine. A loss is just fuel for the next year. At the end of every performance, you leave with your chin up, proud of the work you’ve done.
It’s an endless cycle of ‘keep calm and tumble on’.
On Jerry’s part, there doesn’t appear to be any grappling with the severity of his crimes. He wrote Monica a letter that caught her off guard in its optimism. Jerry discusses his plans for the future, noting that after his prison stint, he wants to be a motivational speaker.
In my own life, I think about the processing time I’ll need after the pandemic is over. Unfortunately, life doesn’t stop when the world is in crisis. Even when the days feel overwhelming, there are more things to do. I will take a million more streetcars in my life, each one a small reminder of when we were all stuck inside.
The least we can do for ourselves is find a comfort show to indulge in. Clearly, I need a new one.
