Soccer Girl
Gel Blong Futbol (Soccer Girl)
By Bre Russell
Soccer for me was an escape.
I was constantly in detention; I got in my first physical fight that year in the locker room with a girl that bullied me daily- and I lost; I got my first F on my report card. I stayed overnight at friends’ houses as much as possible.
Often I felt angry. Hurt. Frustrated. Anxious. I wanted to hit something as hard as I could. I wanted to run and never stop running.
I remember one of my tournaments feelings this way and within ten minutes I scored three goals, back to back.
After every goal, I looked to see if my dad saw me score, “I was standing near the goal post, I saw you looking for me. Don’t worry, kid. I saw the last two.”
I smiled.
“I’ve never seen a kid play soccer the way you do. It’s impressive. Keep it up.”
I take that moment with me—I take him with me—every time I step on a field.
Wondering if he can see me, wondering if he’s proud.
*
Fast forward thirteen years to a deserted island in the South Pacific. I joined the Peace Corps in 2008, and was stationed in Vanuatu, a cluster of islands roughly 700 miles west of Fiji. Beautiful country but not without its flaws. Indigenous people with a chief governance system and post-colonial scars. There I was on Paama island with a population of 1,500 people. I was the only non-native in my village and really learned what it meant to live in a fishbowl. I was told as a woman I couldn’t wear shorts, and that I couldn’t talk to any of the men without another person present. Women couldn’t go to the outdoor gathering places called Nakamals where men drank kava, a relaxant made from a local root that’s considered sacred. I learned from the girls there that some women were in arranged marriages at young ages, and rape was the norm, and I should be careful walking around alone.
*
When I arrived in Paama, I thought I was going to play soccer—the world’s sport! But I soon found out that in Vanuatu, only men played soccer.
The boys laughed at first when I said I wanted to play with them. But they let me; if nothing else, they figured, it would be entertaining. But they soon stopped laughing when I beat them.
And they invited me for kava afterwards.
*
After a few months, I heard there was an upcoming tournament being hosted by FIFA in a month on a nearby island, Ambrym. Ambyrm was so close it could be seen in the distance, its active volcano regularly lighting up the night in red and orange. Often times, I would sit outside my home, watching the smoldering volcano release its fire and smoke, and I couldn’t help thinking how much intensity was inside me, too, waiting to explode and light up the world.
Fortunately, I knew the New Zealand volunteer who was working with FIFA; she’d invited me to play in the women’s tournament they were hosting. She offered to cover all the costs if I wanted to bring a team with me.
Now, I just had to convince the women on Paama they could go.
*
When I hosted a meeting to announce that we had an all-expenses-paid ticket to compete in an eight-on-eight women’s tournament on the nearby island of Ambyrm, about twenty women, aged 15-24, showed up. At first, they seemed excited at the opportunity to play in a tournament on another island, as most had never left their island. But as the date approached, many girls backed out. Two weeks before the tournament people in the community said we shouldn’t go because of the witchcraft and “black magic” that was prevalent on Ambrym.
They’ll create voodoo dolls of you and make you do bad things.
Don’t drink the tea, they will poison you.
Many of the people asked me why we were going to Ambrym.
“Are you going to find husbands?”
“No, we’re just going to play soccer. If we win we get a hundred dollars and a trophy.”
The men asked me if they could go, too.
“We don’t even travel to play soccer! Why should the women get to go?”
I found a boat owner who agreed to take us on his speed boat. We booked him to take us across open shark-infested ocean waters, with high tides that scared us to death.
A week before more girls dropped out. Some said their husband or father wouldn’t let them go. Many were subject to domestic violence- beaten in their homes and in public for any form of disobedience, negligence of their household duties, or for no reason at all.
In the end, only seven of us got on the boat.
On the day of our departure, one of the girls, Silvia, was running to the boat from her angry husband and crying kid. The Ministry Secretary’s wife (my assigned host mother) intervened and took Silvia’s daughter while the Secretary, (my assigned host father) approached the husband. Silvia got in the boat. I told her she didn’t have to go and asked if she was sure she wanted to. She nodded and jumped in the boat. I did wonder at this moment if I was pushing too hard. But she wanted to go, that was clear, maybe she wanted to escape the same way I wanted to escape when I was younger.
We played for three days in the brutal sun on volcanic ash so hot the bottom of my cleats melted right off. The rest of the girls played barefoot; they didn’t have shoes. I will never forget the moment they announced that we won. FIRST PLACE! We were so happy the tears stung as they came down. We took our Wimbledon-size trophy cup and our prize money and waited for the speed boat to come get us.
It was all worth it.
*
When we arrived back at our village, some of the community members were waiting for us with flowers—they’d heard we’d won. The girls were so proud they ran around the field chanting, and I ran with them—I felt proud of their resilience, honored they’d trusted me, and amazed the community had come around.
*
From then on I was known as gel blong futbol. In Bislama, the national language, that means soccer girl. We celebrated and I invited the girls over to my house once a week to decide what we wanted to do with the money. We learned, cooked and shared stories. I wanted to see them succeed, not only in soccer, but in life. Thanks to soccer, they were winners—not only in their own eyes, but in the eyes of their community.
*
Participation in sports tests character. It makes failure a constant, and challenges your sense of self, thereby creating stronger individuals. In order to change the role of women in patriarchal societies around the world, sports can be a platform for women to gain self-confidence, respect, recognition, and economic gain. Sports can change the status and treatment of women worldwide because it offers women a level playing field that is equal, fair, and just. Playing can change perceptions, stereotypes, and the future for many—one gel blong futbol, one soccer girl, at a time.
Short Bio about Bre
Bre Russell is the founding executive director of Girls Leading Girls, a 501c3 nonprofit with the mission to train girls ages 5-18 in leadership and life skills through soccer in San Francisco, Oakland, CA and Nicaragua.
