February 13, 2024

A gaggle of cheerleaders are lined up on the sideline in the humid Copley High School gymnasium. Some have short blond hair and blue eyes, while others have box braids hanging to mid-thigh. More wear ribbons, mascara and lip gloss that’s bound to wear off by the end of the game. The head of the team leads the cheerleaders to the student section: Pom poms prepared, smiles big and ready to perform. One pushes his hair back, grabs the megaphone and the booming voice of male adolescence leads the Copley student cheer. 

In the depths of the COVID-19 pandemic, Mac Gospodinsky sat confined in his room, staring at videos of athletes in their bright glittering uniforms, doing flip after flip and chanting at the top of their lungs. Men with fluffy hair spotted women with dazzling styles, and at the end of their cheers they joined together and celebrated their feat. 

Gospodinsky was a freshman in high school when he realized his passion. He had to cheer—it was as simple as that. Knowing what he wanted was not enough, of course: He needed encouragement. He asked his friends for their opinions, attempting to persuade them to join him in the journey. He thought, and hoped and waited. This went on for three years.

Gospodinsky was agonized during the final months of his junior year. Afraid that his passion would slip through his fingers, he attended a meeting in May 2023. 

“For three years straight I second guessed myself,” Gospodinsky said. “‘It’s gonna be this year’ I said as a sophomore. But I didn’t do it. ‘It’s gonna be this year,’ I said as a junior. Then, finally, in my senior year, I did it.” 

As Gospodinsky practiced over the summer and attended cheer camps, the fear set in. He loved the group, the family that came with cheering, but there were still some things that held him back.

“I was scared people were going to make fun of me,” Gospodinsky said. “Plus, I was completely new to it. Every girl knew the cheers already, but since I was a boy there was clearly more emphasis on [learning] the cheers.” 

There is an appearance, behavioral and attitude expectation for every athlete, but especially for cheerleaders. Female members of the team are expected to be pristine and look jaw-dropping at all times. Male members are expected to be the brawn of the team. This expectation was emphasized when Gospodinsky discovered that he was Copley’s first male cheerleader in a decade. 

 “When men are cheerleaders, they have to be super good or it’s for nothing,” Gospodinsky said. “If I mess up, people will know I messed up.” 

The fear never won. Gospodinsky finished his first (and last) year of cheerleading for the Copley Varsity team. If anything, the fear of being different drove him. He spent half of every week practicing, and the other half doing homework. Fear was no longer something that held him back. Instead of towering over him and terrorizing his every thought, it was his ammunition and his gas. Fear became passion, and his passion would make history.