By CAROLYN BROWN
Staff Writer
A new group of “queerleaders” in Northampton wants to lift up the LGBTQ community — in more ways than one.
STAFF PHOTO/CAROLYN BROWN
The new Valley-based queerleading group ended their first meeting with a huddle.
On Sunday, a group of about 20 people gathered at Veterans Field in Northampton to set up a new team of queer cheerleaders who would perform at queer sporting events in the Pioneer Valley. The sky was gloomy, but the mood was upbeat.
Roommates Ray Gunnerson and Alec Reitz had organized the meetup through Facebook. Reitz themself was a cheerleader throughout middle and high school; Gunnerson wasn’t actually a cheerleader, but they won the “most spirited” award in high school. They enjoyed going to softball games in a cheerleading outfit, and they always wished there had been more actual cheerleaders there supporting the team.
“I had the idea [to create the queerleading group] as a bit of a joke, but knowing that Alec actually had cheer experience, I was like, ‘Wait, Alec, what if we actually did this?’ and they were down,” Gunnerson said.
“I’m so passionate about different types of community-building, especially in these perilous times,” Reitz said. “Any type of community organizing helps people build the skills that we need to make a better world. Even if it’s something that feels silly on its face, like a queer cheerleading team, it’s actually teaching us how to be in community together.”
That includes not just gathering members of the community to do cheer itself, but also deliberately aiming their support at local queer teams, like roller derby and the Division Q basketball league.
STAFF PHOTO/CAROLYN BROWN
Alec Reitz, center, one of the organizers of the new queerleading group, demonstrates a move to Nicole Porter, left, and Mickey Wuethrich.
“A lot of queer people, when they have done sports, haven’t had people cheer for them, and we look at who has cheerleaders — it’s like, football teams. It’s very, I feel, heterosexual, a lot of the time,” Gunnerson said. “Queer people have deserved people to cheer for them, and it’s nice that you can show up for your community in that way. And queer people just go all out, frankly, and I feel like that’s what cheerleading is about.”
At the meeting, the group members went around in a circle, sharing their names, pronouns, and why they wanted to join a queer cheer team. A number of people had experience with related activities like gymnastics, theater, and dance, but others had little or no experience with cheer at all. Some wanted to do it when they were younger, but something had turned them away: a friend had convinced them not to, or their school’s cheerleaders had bullied them.
Gunnerson and Reitz wanted to make sure the opposite was true for the queerleading group, though, both in the sense that they had a positive, rather than punitive, culture — “I’m not Sue Sylvester,” laughed Gunnerson, referring to the notoriously harsh cheerleading coach from the TV show “Glee” — and that they would keep the sport itself as accessible as possible. Rather than demanding strict adherence to an exact routine, for example, they would offer alternative move options and give their team members the opportunity to take a break if needed.
“Some people want to do some [expletive] flips and some people don’t have to do any of that,” Gunnerson said. “You can just sit and be excited and support in the way that works for you.”
At one point, a group member asked if they’d need pom-poms, and another member, Fox, instantly pulled two out of their bag. They were pink, blue, and white — the colors of the transgender pride flag.
STAFF PHOTO/CAROLYN BROWN
Queerleading member Fox holds up pompoms in the colors of the transgender pride flag.
Later in the meeting, the group broke into “committees” to hash out things like costumes (“vibe maintenance,” as Reitz called it), choreography, logistics, and cheer writing. When the whole group reconvened together, there was a consensus that the team had the freedom to be “a little saucy, a little slutty, a little flirty,” as Reneé Pellissier, the de facto choreography committee leader, put it, “blurring the line between burlesque and cheer.” The two cheer writers led the group through some of their cheers:
“We got spirit, yes we do, we’re all queer and so are you!”
“We’re here! We’re queer! We’re ready to cheer!”
“You suck, you’ll lose, but we still think you’re cute!”
“Get that pass, you’ll go fast, watch us while we shake that [expletive]!”
At the end of the meeting, the group did Chappell Roan’s “Hot To Go!” dance, which they decided would also happen at the end of every performance.
Now that the group is underway, Gunnerson and Reitz are working on their next steps, including getting team uniforms, bringing in funds, and making a schedule to get the queerleaders to LGBTQ games in the area. That may also include being available for hire: for a $5 donation, for example, they might give a shoutout to an audience member’s partner who’s competing in a game, or perhaps to someone who’s single (“They’re gay! They’re cute! They’re looking for a top!”).
The most important element, though, is building the sense of community. Gunnerson wants the group to feel collaborative — and, ironically, “like it’s not on one person’s shoulders.”
“It’s about supporting each other,” said Reitz, “lifting each other up, quite literally.”
If you’re interested in becoming a queerleader, email valleyqueerleaders@gmail.com.
Carolyn Brown can be reached at cbrown@gazettenet.com.
