I got addicted to America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, a new docuseries on Netflix.

It’s so good I raved about it with one of my favorite Santas as we toasted over toast and coffee at Manhattan Diner. I said, “The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders are sooo good. You don’t even understand.”

I mentioned that fans come for the football, and they expect high-end entertainment, including the cheerleaders. While senior DCC may earn as much as $75,000 a year, according to the New York Times, others earn $14/hr. In comparison to the football players, who can earn tens of millions, the women’s salaries are nearer to those of a “Chick-fil-A worker,” says one former cheerleader.

Their hair is perfect. Their kicks are to the face. Their jump splits take a toll on their hips, but they keep smiling and working second jobs.

I brought this up because clients come to holiday events to see Santa. Of course. And they expect high-end entertainment through the elves and Mrs. Claus.

I don’t mind making a little less than Santa if he works more hours, interacts with the children more, and is expected to perform more feats of skill than me. I do wonder when my pay is significantly lower than his. (I have sweet ways of asking around.) Often, I am expected to jump around and dance to get the crowd excited, which as a performer, I love to do. My point is that it’s my privilege to make people smile. And I’m working hard too. My time, energy, and expertise have value.

What did my Santa friend say?

He stopped me.

“I want you to get paid the same amount as I do. When I have the opportunity to negotiate contracts, I demand it,” he said.

And this is why he is one of my favorite Santas.

Photo by Kevin Hagen of the Wall Street Journal. Taken Dec. 3, 2019 and appearing in the publication on Dec. 10 online and Dec. 11 in print.

Oh, adrenaline has been pumping through my 500-year-old veins these past few weeks. Last Wednesday, the Wall Street Journal’s Anne Kadet profiled Mrs. Claus in a lovely Metro Money piece called: “‘Ring Your Bells, Sisters!’ Mrs. Claus Says.’" The column appeared online Dec. 10, but the same article took up an entire half page on Wednesday. On that morning, friends and acquaintances emailed me photos from their point of views above their morning papers. I could almost see their collective spray of coffee and hear their gasps of surprise.

That night, I met State Senator Robert Jackson in his offices in Inwood.

I got to meet a woman named Carmen Rojas, who was honored for her community activism on asbestos-related issues. The party happened on the same day the article came out, so I was better able to show and explain what Mrs. Claus does. I’m not Santa, but I can reach an audience in a different way.

Carmen Rojas was the evening’s person of honor. She is in the yellow scarf. So much positive energy in this line-up.

Since then, I have connected to the gorgeous Mrs. Claus mentioned in the piece. She calls herself Aurora Claus, and she is from the so-close-yet-so-faraway Lower Hudson Valley. I hope the WSJ story raises the visibility of female Clauses in NYC and around the country. And Aurora and I must must must meet.

This week, I wore my gorgeous new dress for a volunteer function in Upper Manhattan. To my surprise, two women asked if they could get men for Christmas. This is a new one for me. I told them that some things don’t fit under a tree. But had I been more nimble-minded, I would have said: “Oh, darlings. They have so many instructions. Are you ready for all that responsibility?”

Stay tuned for more about my new suit and the woman who made it for me.

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