Rhythmic gymnastics: One man’s fight for equality

In a gym tucked away from the buzz of busy Paris in the suburb of Antony, a handful of young girls in leotards and leggings leap through the air, spinning clubs, balls, and colorful ribbons. Among them is Peterson Ceus.  

His sturdy, athletic build doesn’t make him a natural for the sport of rhythmic gymnastics – which often prefers a long, balletic body – and yet his dynamism has made him one of France’s most promising stars in the sport. He’s also one of the few men.  

But if he has any say in the matter, that’s going to change. Mr. Ceus is single-handedly moving the discussion forward about allowing men to participate in the sport of rhythmic gymnastics in France, which only recognizes women at an elite level. 

“I’ve become very used to being the only guy in competitions, but things are starting to change,” says Mr. Ceus, who competes at a national level. “If the French Gymnastics Federation can show that it’s possible for men to compete, then it will encourage more to join the sport.” 

His efforts so far have been rejected; entrenched attitudes at the administrative level have created a competitive ceiling that discourages many boys. Mr. Ceus has written to the French Gymnastics Federation (FFGym) about the matter, and in 2018 created a nonprofit to bring gender equality to the sport. 

In October, he brought his case to the Council of State, France’s highest administrative court, which also refused to recognize men in high-level competition, stating that the lack of a men’s category was neither discriminatory nor a violation of his rights.  

Nevertheless, on weekends, between his busy training schedule and newfound activism, he coaches a class of elementary school-age boys, in hopes that his fight is not only about him – that a fresh generation of male rhythmic gymnasts can one day pursue their own dreams. 

“The sport of rhythmic gymnastics is extremely feminized, and in order to have a real discussion about [gender], it’s going to take someone with enormous technical performance as well as charisma,” says David Lortholary, an independent French sports journalist who has covered rhythmic gymnastics for over 10 years and managed Gymnast Magazine for five.

“I see a lot in common with synchronized swimming, which was very feminized and now includes mixed events for men and women. So it’s possible, but we’ll need patience for it to happen.”

Finding his sport

Mr. Ceus was athletic growing up – doing horseback riding, circus training, rock climbing, and dance. But when he was 10 years old, he went for a physical aptitude test for rhythmic gymnastics at a club in the Paris suburb of Cergy. He had discovered the sport by watching a YouTube video of a Russian gymnast named Marina Shpekht.

Colette Davidson

Peterson Ceus has been trying through the French courts and French gymnastics’ governing body to have men recognized at elite competitions. His efforts, so far, have been rejected.

“When I first met him, he was this little boy who ran everywhere,” says Brenda Njitchoua, a coach at the Antony club and the first person to test Mr. Ceus in the sport. “I told him, ‘This is usually a girls’ sport. You might get teased.’ But he said, ‘I don’t care.’ He already knew that he wanted to do it.” 

Ms. Njitchoua, who grew up next door to Mr. Ceus, says she talked with his family to make sure it was on board. “We came from a rough neighborhood, where you can get insulted or beat up [for not conforming to social norms],” she says. “I wondered, would stereotypes destroy him? But it all passed over his head.” 

Now Mr. Ceus splits his time between two clubs in the Paris area, training largely autonomously since finishing his master’s degree in sports management. His coaches, Olivia de Ponte Ramboux and Mauricio Léon, are based in Tenerife in the Canary Islands, and he travels there regularly for more focused instruction.  

Mr. Ceus is allowed to compete during women’s competitions, but only up to a national level. Part of his fight with the FFGym is for admittance into elite level competitions. In 2018, Mr. Ceus wrote the governing body a letter requesting more equality in rhythmic gymnastics, but was told that there weren’t enough men participating in the sport to create a men’s category; 385 men are registered rhythmic gymnasts in France today, up from 50 five years ago.

“All you need for a podium is three people,” says Mr. Ceus. “I still find it very strange that France doesn’t accept men in the sport yet. We’re always talking about gender equality here in terms of equality for women. But this is the same issue.”  

Mr. Ceus can find reward for his hard work in Spain, the only country to recognize men in elite competition. In 2020, he became a champion in the men’s category in Spain, and has won medals in nonofficial competitions: gold in 2019 at the AmsterdaMMasters international tournament as well as at the Aubagne international tournament in 2013. He has also won several local competitions. 

His female teammates say they don’t see a problem with him or other young men competing against them – they welcome it. 

“I often hear stereotypes about men competing. It’s very hard for them to find their place in this sport,” says Celia Sellin, who competes at a national level and has trained alongside Mr. Ceus for seven years. “It’s very hard to judge men and women in the same way. Women are traditionally more flexible, elegant, while men have more muscle strength and force. You can’t compare them. There should be two separate categories in competition.”

Next-gen gymnasts  

On the first Saturday after winter break, Mr. Ceus is back on the mat at the Antony gym. But this time, he’s standing at one end of the floor while three young boys stand across from him. Mr. Ceus instructs them to aim well and throw their red ropes over his shoulder, then run across the mat to grab them. They take the opportunity to leap and bound as they go.  

This blend of circus, gymnastics, and dance is the reason Damien Danel, age 11, loves rhythmic gymnastics. He takes classes at another club and has been attending Mr. Ceus’ all-boys class since it began in September. 

“Peterson is so strong and he’s really nice. We drive 20 minutes to come to his class,” says Damien, dressed in loose black shorts and a T-shirt, black-rimmed glasses pressed against the bridge of his nose. “The fact that there’s a special class for boys shows that this sport is not just for girls.” 

Damien’s parents say they’ve always encouraged him to pursue his love for rhythmic gymnastics and are proud to support Mr. Ceus’ cause. They have another son, who participates in other sports and has not encountered the same friction. The couple have always embraced their differences.   

“When Damien was 6, he asked me, ‘Why can girls be tomboys but not the opposite? Why am I strange?’” says his mother, Diane Danel, after practice. “We told him, ‘You’re not strange. You just like other things.’ We’ve always encouraged him to do what he loves.” 

As Mr. Ceus looks to the future, he dreams of men being allowed to compete in rhythmic gymnastics at the Olympics. At age 23, he recognizes that his time in the sport is limited, but that doesn’t mean his pursuit of equality for future generations is over. He’s planning another appeal to the FFGym. If he can get France on board, it could push other countries to follow.  

“I’m sure things will evolve and that we’ll get there,” says Mr. Ceus. “People are smart enough to see that this discussion is happening and translate it into concrete action. It’s just a question of time.”