What is happening here?

I’m an Upward cheerleading coach.

For those who don’t know, Upward is a Christian sports program designed to teach children about the game, team work, sportsmanship, and glorifying God in all they do, including playing basketball, cheerleading, football, and soccer.

Saturday was picture day, which was a big enough logistical nightmare. But let me just recap some of what happened when it was time for the group photo:

I was calling the girls by name, putting them into their places. I placed the tallest girls in the back, but couldn’t find one of them. I’ll call her G. Where was she? How could she just disappear? Her dad or some male person in her family was RIGHT THERE. Where was she? I scan the room asking where she was aloud.

The guy who is somehow related—dad? brother? uncle? stepfather?—says she’ll be right back. OK, I think. I’ll just save a spot for her.

I get everyone in place. But G. is still missing. Hmm. What to do? Go look for her?

As I’m pondering what to do, I hear one of the moms tell her daughter to stop crying. “You’re going to look ugly in the picture,” she says. “Straighten up!”

Oh, great. I think. Someone’s crying. I slowly turn back toward the backdrop and my squad. And a cheerleader I’ll call M. is crying. Because she forgot her pom poms and her dad didn’t bring them from her. I have an extra set that she can use. I don’t see why it’s a big deal, but I suddenly remember being that age when that would have been a big deal to me, too. So I tell her it’s fine and she’s welcome to the extras and that it’s going to be alright. I mean, I’ve never even cared if the girls forgot their pom poms, so it’s not like she needs to be afraid she’s going to get in trouble or something.

Sigh.

M. appears to be drying up her tears as G. makes her appearance in the room, finally.

And. She’s. Sobbing.

Not just crying, sobbing.

I see this and go to her before most of the squad had seen her and just give her a hug. I talk to her privately asking what is wrong, but she obviously doesn’t want to tell me, which leads me to believe it’s none of my business and family-related, so just comfort her with a hug and calming words. Sometimes, you can’t or don’t want to talk about what’s going on and the person comforting you doesn’t have to know everything to comfort you. I just wanted her to not be hurting. Finally, the tears began to calm and I was able to tell her that she was going to be one of the captains during our game and that I needed her to look pretty in our team picture. She perked up a little and I led her to the spot we’d saved for her.

The moral of this story? I can’t wait to see that picture. It’s going to be STELLAR!

And girls don’t have to be teenagers to be full of drama.

Eek!