The Time I Tore Down Gender Stereotypes And Became The First Male "Diamond Girl" In School History

I’m not the type to brag, whine, complain, or toss around the word “hero” all willy-nilly like some of my overdramatic and self-centered colleagues, but my junior year of high school I did something exceptionally heroic that didn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserved. In fact, it didn’t get any attention from local or national media outlets, and to be perfectly honest, it still infuriates me to this day.

Let me start by saying this: I was a normal dude in high school (a “common young man” if you will) — I played sport, listened to music, hung out with friend, went to his party, and enjoyed video games. It was no secret that I was popular, intelligent, and consistently at the top of my class alphabetically. So when it came to school-wide groups and clubs, I was always getting begged and negged by peers to join them on their extracurricular ventures. “Kyleeee, PLEASE sign up for X club so we can chill after school every other Wednesday!” immediately comes to mind.

I would never admit this publicly but I was an elite athlete who already locked down a scholarship to an elite institution so I couldn’t have possibly given less of a fuck about “boosting my resume” by joining some poppycock little club or program. Except for one.

It had everything I could ask for in an after-school activity: Warm weather. Girls. Tight pants. Third base. High energy. Donuts. Pizzazz. America’s pastime. The spirit of athletic competition. And the cherry on top of the “good vibes” sundae? A post-season trip to Cedar Point — The Roller Coaster Capital of the World — with the varsity squad in June. It was a Midwestern boy’s dream wrapped up in a bow and ripe for the taking. My only dilemma? This organization that enticed me so much was called “Diamond Girls” and, as the name might suggest, it was a “pep club” for the baseball team that was intended for “females only” according to the official handbook. Not on my off-brand G-shock.

Long story short, I scratched and clawed for social justice. I battled adversity and overcame oppression. I fought for inclusivity, broke down a long-standing stereotype, and blazed a trail for my gender that will go on to be remembered for years to come. I became the first ever Diamond Girl boy in school history. And I rode the fuck out of the Millennium Force that summer. Thrice.

And guess what happened the next year, thanks in whole to my fearless leadership and unapologetic courage? “Diamond Girls” was officially renamed to “Diamond Club” to encourage male involvement.

That wasn’t necessarily the outcome, but I’d like to believe my actions and bravery were instrumental in expanding the overall diversity of the club.

Anyway, I’m here today to finally right the wrongs of all the journalists and news anchors who so ignorantly and foolishly refrained from doing a news segment or writing an article about my heroism. I’m here to honor myself in the way I should’ve been honored almost a decade ago.

Kyle Bauer is, in many ways, your typical teenager. He’s bright-eyed and jaunty, and wears his passions, emotions and fierce independence on his letterman jacket sleeve. He doesn’t attempt to censor his opinions. He voraciously consumes movies and TV shows like “The Office” on Netflix. He knows all the lyrics to his favorite Maroon 5 songs, and enjoys pranking strangers online. Oh, by the way, he’s also a world-renowned activist who singlehandedly hurdled a 34-year-old gender barrier at one of the largest secondary schools in the Wheeling, West Virginia metro area.

The 17-year-old junior — who wasn’t doing an “irony bit” or attempting to implement a desperation strategy to meet girls because he was too afraid to approach them in a conventional manner—made history this spring by becoming the first ever male member of Wheeling Park High School’s illustrious “Diamond Girls” pep club since its inception in 1976.

“I’ve been peppy at baseball games for a long time, but this wasn’t something I dreamed about. It wasn’t something I could have ever envisioned happening,” proclaimed Bauer.

“A few years ago, if I had told someone I wanted to be a Diamond Girl, they would probably have looked at me like I was crazy. To actually be on such an esteemed spirit squad with such incredible teammates…it’s greater than imagined. It’s definitely surreal. Would I consider myself a hero? Well, it’s hard to say. Is Susan B. Anthony a hero? What about Harriet Tubman or Florence Nightingale or David Hogg or Pearl S. Buck?”