Cheerleaders are supposed to be the lucky ones, the kids who've got it all - the looks, the grades and, above all, cool friends.

But it can be a different story when things aren't what people expect them to be.

It's a cruel double standard Edson Juarez has dealt with every day since he joined cheerleading.

Immediately, the guys he once hung out with started giving him the cold shoulder. On his way to class through the halls of Lincoln Middle School, he became a target. His classmates' weapons were only words, but they cut deep and left wounds that haven't completely healed, even five years later.

"‘Faggot' was the one that bothered me the most," said Juarez, now a senior at Nikki Rowe High School. "That word to me, having a gay uncle and a gay uncle, I just don't say it. I find it disturbing and rude and     ignorant."

The 18-year-old speaks with the same confidence that earned him his place as co-captain of his high school cheerleading squad. It's a strength he had to muster years ago while fighting to defend himself and his love for the sport against stigmas at school and at home.

When he first joined, his dad believed cheerleading lacked athletic qualities, and that his son would "turn out gay" by being apart of it. The comments weighed heavily on Juarez, and the pair didn't talk for three months.

"It was like my dad was teasing me himself, too," Juarez said. "It drew me away from cheerleading."

The discrimination came not only from people but the system as well, he recalls. At the time, boys were not allowed to participate in state and national cheerleading competitions; he was left behind when the rest of the squad traveled.

By the end of football season, the seventh-grader didn't want to finish the year in the cheerleading program. His coach, Larissa Cantu, was upset. Still, she knew the harassment and his exclusion from competition were heavier burdens than he could carry, Juarez said.

He finished the year with a fraction of the friends he'd started the school with. He couldn't take the torture anymore, so he quit.

Middle school came to a close and high school began. Over time the people who'd left his life found their way back, and Juarez took up track, wrestling and other sports.

During his freshman year, he even took a place on the field instead of on the sidelines as a junior varsity football player.

But he was bored. After JV games he'd join the band, but look out to the cheerleaders with admiration and a hint of jealousy.

"Every time the cheerleaders would warm up I'd look down and think to myself, ‘That's what I'm supposed to be doing,'" he said.

SECOND CHANCES

It was the end of freshman year, and try-outs for the next year's cheerleading squad were coming up.

Juarez knew deep down that cheerleading was his calling, but he feared going down the same painful path again.

"That's why I didn't go into it my freshman year. I thought that if they were that mean to me in the seventh-grade, I can't imagine freshman year and getting it from seniors," he said.

Uttering a few words about trying out again was enough to re-ignite the whispers. Older and wiser, Juarez was able to tune them out. Then, during his first pep rally as a member of the varsity squad, he silenced them for good.

On that day, Juarez's peers saw what he was truly capable of. Middle school restrictions had always prevented him from doing stunts. Now, Juarez was free to display the abilities none of his friends had seen in action before.

"The crowd seriously went crazy for it. Since then I haven't heard anything or any teasing," he said.

Even his dad has changed his tune.

The program at Nikki Rowe, though still in its infancy, has grown while Juarez has been on the squad, especially in the past two years. There are now three boys on the squad. Last weekend, they took fourth place at state competition, and nationals will take place in Florida in a few months.

Last year was the team's first time to go to nationals, making Juarez the first male to compete as part of the school's squad. The competition didn't go well - a last-minute bout with chicken pox almost     sidelined Juarez - but he and the team have faith that next time will be different.

Juarez, more than anyone on the squad, knows some things go better the second time around.

Sandra Gonzalez covers features and entertainment for The Monitor. You can reach her at (956) 683-4427.