It’s Hard To Be A Woman
A look at Netflix’s portrayal of the famous Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.
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Last week Netflix released America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, a docuseries following the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders (DCC) from their 2023 audition process through the end of their season and, as a fan of their CMT reality show Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making The Team (2006-2021), I was really excited to see how Netflix would portray DCC, a team that brings up some mixed feelings within me and, I would say, a lot of folks outside of their bubble.
The reality show, which I started watching clips of on YouTube during the pandemic, was light and funny. It showcases the story of how the women make the team, from dance auditions, to interviews, to training camp, learning routines, and more. We get talking heads from the women, not enough to get to know them exceedingly well, but enough to feel like we have an insight into their personality. I knew that the tone of the Netflix doc was going to be very different, considering that Netflix was picking up a topic that has already been explored in a very particular lens for decades. It was also going to be an outsider’s perspective, which might be less clouded by rose-colored glasses.
In Netflix’s version, we focus on a few cheerleaders with varying experiences including Kelcey, a captain in her fifth and final year, Victoria, one who seems to struggle to fit in, Caroline, a recently retired captain with a younger sister who is auditioning, and Reece, a fresh-faced rookie. Additionally, we get the perspective of Kelli Finglass, the director of DCC, and Judy Trammell, the head choreographer, both of which were DCC themselves.
The CMT show provided a lot more of Kelli and Judy’s perspective than the DCC’s perspectives, so I was interested to hear a more honest take on how the women feel about their roles. The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders are touted as the “often imitated, never equaled” gold standard of NFL cheerleaders. These women are hired to be more than just beautiful and model-esque dancers, but smart, kind, and strong women who can be ambassadors for the Cowboys brand. You are not the best of the best unless you’ve cheered for the Dallas Cowboys. The pressure they are under is immense and a lot of the questions surrounding the team from outsiders, myself included, surround if what the women get out of being on the team is equal to what they put in.
I think most of the women would say it is. Kelcey, while outlining her relentless schedule during the season (wake up at 6am; go to work as a nurse at 7:30am; get off work at 4:30pm; go to practice around 5/6pm; get home between 10pm and 12am; go to sleep at 1am; wake up and do it all over again), quickly follows up with the fact that it’s only 5 years of her life so she’s willing to sacrifice for the team because she loves it so much. The women also frequently talk about the sisterhood they get out of the team. Alumni, some being current DCC’s mothers, talk about how their old teammates are still their best friends. Caroline and Kat, another recent veteran, speak about how they feel a little lost without DCC after retirement.
I believe wholeheartedly that DCC is a one-of-a-kind environment for these women. One of the only ways to get through such a rigorous process is to connect with the people around you. However, I’ve always wondered how honest these women were being when the cameras were in front of them. Particularly in their CMT reality show, these women are being put in front of the camera during their audition process. They are very much still interviewing for this job. If they have any sense of self-preservation, they are going to speak as positively of the organization as possible. The same goes with this docuseries because even if you are a veteran, your spot on the team next year is never guaranteed.
The more honest depictions of the realities of being on the team come from the women who no longer wear the uniform or who are on their way out. Victoria, who I really liked from the clips I’d seen on YouTube of her journey, was one of these women. Victoria’s mother, Tina, was a DCC with Kelli, the director of the team, and Victoria’s story was very much about her working even harder to prove herself because she was a legacy. She did not make it her first time, which came with a lot of critiques about her figure, only for her to come back the next year stronger, toner, and more mature.
It seems that ever since that first year of trying out, when she was freshly 18, Victoria has struggled with her self-perception. She constantly critiques her looks, her figure, the way her teammates perceive her, why she can’t seem to fit in, and why she isn’t being put in leadership positions. She opens up about her experiences with depression and binge eating. Caroline speaks about how there are weigh-ins every week on the team. Kat speaks about how once you are sized for your uniform, you can’t gain weight. If you try on your uniform from last year and you have to go up a size, even if you’re still fit and toned, there will be questions and hesitations surrounding you returning to the team.
In the reality show, the comments about weight are extensive, and even sometimes outright poke fun at people who audition with tummies that jiggle. Women that in any other scenario would be considered (gag) bikini ready are told they’re not trim/fit enough. It’s cruel, honestly. Victoria points out that in every other sphere of media it seems that bodies that are not a size 2 are slowly being more accepted, but that does not apply to DCC. There were multiple moments in the show where women were admitting that they were looking sluggish in practice because they were “not fueling themselves.” As in, they weren’t eating. The pressure to stay thin in a uniform that leaves absolutely no room for any extra weight must be excruciating, especially if you’re not naturally thin.
The more I learn about the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, the more I think that they are an extreme microcosm of what it means to be a woman, and how exhausting and elusive it can be to try and chase this ideal that was never meant to be met. These women are smart, incredibly hard-working, kind, talented, athletic, passionate people who are put in positions to speak on behalf of a massive organization with class, elegance, and sophistication and, above all, not “tarnish the star.” For this they have the honor to, in the words of Charlotte Jones, the chief brand officer for the Cowboys, be “a part of something bigger than themselves. It is about a sisterhood that they are able to form, about relationships that they have for the rest of their life. They have a chance to feel like they are valued, they are special, and they are making a difference. When the women come here, they find their passion and they find their purpose.” Additionally, they have the honor of being an example to future DCC, which just reinforces my agreement with Frankie de la Cretaz’s thoughts on this idea. Is that really enough?
For the work that these women put in during the season and in preparation for it, they get paid abysmally, which is why most of them have other jobs to sustain themselves, because living off what they make as a DCC is impossible. They are put in a public-facing position, which puts them in harm's way occasionally, forcing the implementation of things like no-touching policies during their appearances and intense rules meant to protect the women from unwanted attention and scrutiny. They are, let’s face it, sexualized and objectified by the fans of the Cowboys and others, as evidenced by a creepy snippet of a tour guide leading a small group of men through AT&T Stadium, including the DCC locker room, and talking about how the players are off limits for the DCC, but not the tour guides. The end of the penultimate episode of the series even showcases the youngest DCC, Sophy, coming forward about being assaulted by a cameraman in the middle of a game.
For all of this pressure, this work, these risks, they get paid equivalent to a “full-time Chik-Fil-A employee,” sisterhood, and pride. Men are never forced to settle for a reward that consists mainly of feelings. And I’m not saying pride or sisterhood aren’t important, they 100% are, but they should be included in the experience, not the largest reward. At one point in time, I’m sure the minimal pay was more proportionate to the amount of time and effort that went into making and then maintaining one’s spot on the team, but in this day and age of DCC, when women have to meet such a high standard of excellence to attain this job, they do not seem to get fairly compensated for their efforts.
But that, I guess, is the story of a woman’s life. Your work is devalued, but expected. And regardless of how taxing that reality is, you are asked to maintain a pretty face and a desirable body, to remain poised and polite at all times, and to open and cheer for the men from the sidelines, despite the fact that you’re probably the most interesting one in the room.