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Two Del Norte High Girls, Two Outcomes
Lauren Sanchez and I were both bright Latina girls in Albuquerque’s Del Norte High School class of 1987, popular in our own circles. I was a band geek. She was a cheerleader. Pretty sure we both had perms, but hers likely looked better. Lauren and I both went on to become award-winning reporters in Los Angeles as adults, and published authors, and mothers. But that’s where the similarities end.
Sanchez is now engaged to the second-richest person on earth, while I’m undatable and don’t know if I can make my car payment next month. She’s probably the most powerful woman on earth, while I can’t even get my dog to come when I call him. She is still stunningly beautiful at 55, and I look like a body double for Rosanne Barr, after a bender. She’s unwaveringly upbeat and consistent on social media, while I am… welp. Me.
I’ve been trying to figure out how two girls who were so fundamentally similar in 1985 ended up being so completely different in 2024. I think I know the answer. You ready?
I was forbidden to be a cheerleader.
She wasn’t.
Stay with me. It’ll make sense. I promise.
The Cheerleading Incident
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Before attending Del Norte, I made the cheerleading team at Highland High School. Auditions were held the summer before 9th grade. Stacy and Nana, my two best friends, also made the team. I was even offered the captain position! It was a dream come true for me. I skipped all the way home to share the good news.
But my machista Cuban immigrant father, who was raising me on his own (my mother had abandoned us a few years before), had other ideas. "Only whores are cheerleaders," he declared, forbidding me from joining. He noticed the purple eyeshadow. It was Stacy’s. Nana, Stacy and I had put it on for the tryouts. My dad scraped it off my eyelids with his thumbnails. I bled. He grounded me.
This unexpected and unfair sexualization of cheerleading (which I’d thought of as dancing and gymnastics with my friends) shattered my dreams. But I figured my dad, a decorated and important professor at the university, had to be right. And I wanted my dad to love me. So I declined the team, and told my friends what he’d told me. That only whores were cheerleaders.
They severed our friendship.
I was left friendless, ashamed, confused. I couldn’t bear going to Highland after that. To see Stacy and Nana on the cheer squad, to know they hated me.
It led me to switch schools and start over at Del Norte.
I’d like to point out that, contrary to my dad’s low opinion of cheerleading, Nana also rose to the top of her field — flamenco dancing! She’s one of the world’s most famous flamenco dancers, living in Spain. I don’t know what happened to Stacy.
Struggles at Del Norte High School
Determined to fit in and be popular within the acceptable limits set by my father, I threw myself into school activities at my new high school. I got myself elected freshman class president AND band president. However, my attempt to lead took a hit when I was impeached as freshman class president for proposing a nuclear sit-in at a mall instead of a bake sale to fund a school dance.
The nuclear sit-in idea was one that would have no doubt impressed my Marxist dad. He was a Cuban exile, but for complicated reasons was not conservative as most of them were then, and still are. I went to a conservative school, and this was during the Cold War.
My unconventional idea, which I’d floated mostly to please my unpleasable dad, was not well-received at my school, and impeachment procedings were begun by a teacher.
So, there I was. Hunching over my saxophone in the stands at the football stadiums, sitting with the rest of the marching band but ignored by everyone, unable to understand why everyone was so “patriotic” about sports, when it was just one random school against another. Most of the time, I read Tolstoy.
And there was Lauren Sanchez, leading the cheers.
Harassment & Withdrawal
Adding to my challenges was the harassment I faced in the band due to my father's "Stop Reagan Now" bumper sticker on our tiny, banana-yellow Honda Civic, which I was allowed to drive to school starting sophomore year. One day, the football team moved our car onto a playing field and ripped off the "now" from the sticker, making a mockery of our political stance.
This experience pushed me further into isolation, and I turned to writing as a solace and escape. Soon, I was the lonely kid with the notebook, dreaming up worlds where I would actually be good enough for someone, anyone, to like me.
The Impact of My Father’s Brutality
My father's harsh, controlling behavior went beyond prohibiting cheerleading. He was physically and emotionally violent with everyone in his life, and me most of all. His brutality led to my developing serious mental health issues, including what I’d learn many years later was complex PTSD.
When I was 16, after a teacher raped me and my father blamed ME for this, he threw me out for good. I was sixteen.
A therapist he forced me to see at the time told me she thought he had Narcissistic Personality Disorder and that I was the only sane person in my family. She suggested I become an emancipated minor and graduate early, leave for college as soon as possible, and so I did. At 17, I moved to Boston and began trying to make it on my own.
Complex PTSD haunted me throughout most of my life, causing me to burn many bridges and struggle with interpersonal relationships. It was only in my mid-40s that I finally did the work and got the help I needed to heal.
The trauma from my father's actions set me back in ways I am still grappling with. The cost of this has been immense, not just in terms of lost income—potentially millions of dollars—but also in the emotional toll of failed relationships and the ongoing battle with mental health.
I do wonder — what kind of person would I have become if, on the day I skipped home to tell my dad my good news — he’d congratulated me and taken me out for a cheeseburger, and supported me instead of sexualizing me, invalidating me and brutalizing me?
We’ll never know for sure. And I’m not saying I’d be engaged to Bezos. But I might, you know, not be absolutely terrified to let ANYONE good come near me. I might not have sabotaged my own professional and personal life so many times. Hopefully, it’s not too late.
Reflections on Lauren's Success
Lauren's rise to the top of everything she’s ever done (she started her own helicopter videography company, as a pilot, people!) is nothing short of inspiring. Her dedication to using her influence for the greater good, especially in tackling environmental issues, is a testament to her character and vision. Seeing her commitment to saving the planet has made me reflect on my own life and the impact I want to have. It has also made me realize that my father's narrow views were dead wrong, about me and women generally, and it’s time to let all that needless shame and pain GO.
Cheerleading, or any other activity, doesn't define one's worth or future potential. For those of us who were shamed and abused for just being ourselves, it can take a little longer to finding that place where we feel safe enough to exhibit the good emotional intelligence needed to rise to the top of any field.
When parents support their daughter’s choices and applaud their successes, they grow up feeling worthy and safe. But if you, like me, didn’t have that support, just know it’s never to late to give it to yourself.
The Bright Side
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Reflecting on these experiences, I realize the importance of following your heart and not letting sexist, demeaning views dictate your choices. My father's outdated and restrictive beliefs deprived me of certain experiences, but they also robbed from me a sense of safety in the world. An ability to trust myself to know what I want and need, and ability to believe others would actually be there for me.
But if I’ve learned anything from watching Lauren Sanchez, it’s that the past is the past, and you choose who you get to be now and moving forward. You must focus on the positive things in life. So, with that in mind, I choose to embrace the ways I reinvented myself and survived and succeeded, despite abuse, neglect and invalidation when I was a child.
Being shamed out of cheerleading inadvertently pushed me towards writing, which my father found acceptable and which has become my lifelong passion. I’ve also risen to the top of my field — as an award-winning print journalist, Emmy-winning broadcast journalist, bestselling author and, now, TV series producer.
There’s not much point in wondering how much more I could have done with some love and support.
I’ve done this, without all that.
And I’m proud of myself.
Conclusion
It’s incredible to see how far both Lauren and I have come from our days at Del Norte High School. Lauren's journey has inspired me to think bigger and aim higher, to use my platform as a writer to make a positive impact. Her work with the Bezos Earth Fund is a powerful reminder that we all have the potential to contribute to something greater than ourselves.
In the end, it is amazing that two Latina girls from Del Norte’s class of 1987 have made it in the world, each in her own way, proving that success is multifaceted and deeply personal. And through Lauren's stellar example, I am reminded that the paths we take, however different, can lead to meaningful and impactful lives.