Donning short pleated skirts and the slogan “No on Prop 73” slapped across their chests, Poketta Wawona Chinook and Sarah Longstocking are not just dressed up as cheerleaders for Halloween. It may seem odd because there isn't a fake smile plastered on their faces as they shake handmade pom-poms made of shredded pieces of fabric and take pyramid formation in the middle of San Francisco State University’s Malcom X Plaza. In booming voices, the four cheerleaders yell one synchronized cheer after another, “Come on everybody we need your racket, ‘cause when women use hangers it should be for their jackets!” A bold presence takes charge of the rally against Prop 73 as they jump and stomp their stripe-stockinged legs.

While these girls may fall short of the standard number of toe touches, spread-eagled jumps and kicks expected in a traditional cheerleading routine, cheers and applause can be heard from an attentive audience. As Radical Cheerleaders, they do for their fellow activists what a high school pep squad does for a football team—they get them going.

Utilizing aspects of traditional cheerleading, the radical cheer is a concept in which protest meets performance. It's a means to expand involvement at protests and express political dissatisfaction with more of an in-your-face approach. With cheers addressing topics including the prison-industrial complex, women’s rights, genetically modified food and beyond, the girls (and boys) of radical cheerleading spice up the plain old protest with more fun and a lot more attitude.

“Protests are boring, BORING,” Longstocking says. “I’m sorry, but sitting up there watching the same people say the same things over and over again with this passive acceptance … I just don’t do that anymore. And for that same reason I don’t go to museums because they won’t let me touch the art.”

“I think the Radical Cheerleaders are awesome,” says Alexis Harper, a member of the Voices for Sexual Freedom club. “They engage people and entertain the audience while educating them about radical issues at the same time.”

By refusing to conform to conventional beauty standards, Radical Cheerleaders play with the notions of sexual attractiveness. When catching a glimpse of Longstocking stretching her arms out, a subtle patch of hair can be seen sprouting from her armpits. Neither girl wears make up, besides the few splotches of beet juice on Chinook’s face that “helps [her] feel alive.”

Chinook and Longstocking, both 23, recall cheerleading for the first time on the day after the San Francisco war protest in 2001. With cops in full riot gear at one per protestor, the girls knew they had to ease the tension and fear of the protestors. so they began screaming every cheer they could. The crowd quickly took notice of their positive support and within an hour, a reporter from Democracy Now! came up to them with a microphone and asked them to define themselves.

“I think it was really surprising to find out how much people love it,” Chinook says. “It gives you a platform to just bounce off the walls, to say 'this is what I think, let’s have a lot of fun and let’s talk about [social change] and work some shit out here.' It’s just so much more powerful than I would have ever realized in the first place.”

This kind of allure, however, has also raised some tough questions. Some activist organizers criticize radical cheerleading as being a distraction from the main event. If there’s a choice between a photo of the key note speaker and a couple of attention-grabbing cheerleaders, it’s not surprising the media’s focus veers toward them.

While Longstocking understands the opposing argument, she also brings up the front-page photo of the Radical Cheerleaders in the "Washington Post." She questions whether the International Monetary Fund rally in Seattle would have gotten a picture if it weren’t for the ridiculous antics they put on.

“We take the traditional image of the cheerleader, which is sexy and titillating, and make it very political. [We] repackage it so that people are forced to listen to the politics behind it,” she explains.

Because of loose networking and sporadic involvement, it’s hard to say exactly how many Radical Cheerleaders there are worldwide. Unlike the structured system of traditional cheerleading, radical cheerleading requires no uniform, no talent and no routine practice. There are, however, squad names.

Longstocking and Chinook are part of the Oakland Fejacs, which comes from joining the phrase, “female ejaculation.” The Fejacs have gone on tour as the opening act for folk legend Utah Phillips, and have opened for Lynn Breedlove, the lead singer of punk band Tribe 8.

Members of the Fejacs have cheered at the April 2004 March for Women’s Lives in Washington, D.C., as well as the World Aids Conference in Thailand and a WTO protest in Cancun.

For Longstocking, radical cheerleading is a form of self-liberation from beauty standards and unrealistic ideals. “I’m not a skinny, cheerleading blonde waif,” the redheaded Longstocking says. “We fuck the beauty myth up from the inside by adopting some of its symbols and subverting them.” Growing up an unhappy and unsatisfied teenager in the suburbs of Los Angeles, she had a hard time coping with the southern California image of attractiveness. But radical cheerleading gave her the confidence to express herself and feel comfortable with her body, as it also taught her to ditch the attitude of passively accepting the things she was unhappy with.

Chinook also comes from the L.A. area. Coincidentally, her mother was a former high school cheerleader. As a young child, thinking that cheerleading was the only women’s sport out there, Chinook knew that she, too, would be a cheerleader when she grew up. “Indeed, I became a cheerleader,” she says. “But a spazzed out, whack-job cheerleader instead.”