A ‘World Cup’ for immigrant girls uses the joy of sport to counter ICE fears

PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) — “Push!” “Press!” “Good ball!”

As the volunteer soccer coach shouted words of motivation, one of his players nudged the ball past the opposing team’s goalie and into the net, prompting the sideline to erupt in cheers.

This was the scene Sunday in Portland, Oregon, at a soccer tournament its organizer dubbed the World Cup for immigrant and refugee girls. Community advocate Som Subedi, an immigrant from Bhutan, created the event to help provide a sense of joy and unity amid federal immigration enforcement operations that have affected players’ families.

“ICE and federal enforcement must be out of our parking lots, out of our soccer fields, and most importantly, out of the fear in our hearts and minds,” Subedi said during the opening ceremony, using the acronym for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

Subedi belongs to the Lhotshampa, a Nepali-speaking ethnic group targeted by Bhutanese authorities in the early 1990s. He lived in a refugee camp in Nepal for years and arrived in Portland in 2008, eventually becoming a U.S. citizen.

“This is more than a competition. It is more than soccer,” he told The Associated Press. “We are making this a community event so that they feel valued and welcomed.”

Support for families impacted by ICE

Fears of federal immigration enforcement have gripped youth sports across the country.

Last fall, the Oregon Youth Soccer Association announced the cancellation or rescheduling of several games in Portland over concerns about immigration agents in parks, arrested by immigration agents on his way to volleyball practice last May before being released.

Immigration enforcement, spearheaded by President Donald Trump’s administration, surged in the Pacific Northwest last fall, nearing the historic height seen during the first Obama administration, according to data released by the University of Washington Center for Human Rights. In Oregon, the spike saw nearly 1,200 people arrested from October to December.

Portland’s ICE building has been the site of persistent protests over the administration’s immigration crackdown since last June, including months of nightly demonstrations. Federal officers’ use of chemical munitions such as tear gas to disperse crowds at the building is the subject of two lawsuits, brought by nearby residents and protesters respectively, that are currently before a federal appeals court.

Some of the tournament’s players — aged 10-18 and whose families hailed from countries from Mexico to Somalia to Myanmar — have been directly impacted by the immigration crackdown. Valeria Hernandez, 15, said her brother was deported to Mexico late last year.

“I broke down at that moment. I was really sad,” she told the AP, choking up. “He was my best friend.”

It became harder to get to practice, as her brother used to gives her rides. He was her main inspiration for playing soccer, she said, adding that she sent him a picture from the tournament before her first game.

“He was just very passionate about it,” she said, “so I wanted to be just like him.”

At the opening ceremony, Valeria, her mother and younger sister were gifted brightly colored scarves as symbols of support while they grapple with the deportation of their loved one, with whom “they deserve to be united,” Subedi said.

Subedi himself recounted how his daughter, 11, was afraid to go to soccer practice after immigration agents were reported near her school last winter. He showed her that he carries his REAL ID and passport on him, but she was still nervous, he told the AP.

“I had to calm her down, and she went into the practice, but also not without the fear,” he said.

Community solidarity

To help create a sense of safety at the tournament, officers from two police departments and a local immigrant rights group were present. At times, officers were seen on the edge of the park chatting with attendees, or in their patrol vehicle in the parking lot. Under Oregon’s sanctuary law, local police are prohibited from assisting with federal immigration enforcement.

The departments committed to showing up in a supportive role, he said, “and their presence helped families feel protected, not policed.”

Having a crowd of supporters and families also contributed to the secure atmosphere, Subedi said.

“When there’s a feeling of having a community’s back for these girls, I think that creates that sense of belonging, sense of safeness,” he said.

Esraa Alnabelsi, who arrived in the U.S. from Syria in 2012, said it was exciting not only to watch her 13-year-old daughter play, but also to see people of different cultures and religions come together.

“We really have to be in one hand to face all that’s happening now in Oregon and other states,” she said.

There has also been solidarity among the players. A few girls who didn’t come from immigrant families wanted to participate in the tournament, and they were accepted as the event was open to everyone, Subedi said.

Thanks to donations, the tournament — including jerseys and cleats — was free for the girls, who were split into six teams. Some teams represented certain communities and groups, such as the Karen people in Myanmar and the African Refugee Immigrant Organization. The teams that placed first and second received trophies.

Dozens of people signed up to volunteer, including as referees and coaches.

Sergio Medel was a volunteer coach for a team that included his 16-year-old daughter. He used to play professionally in Mexico and has coached at various levels in the U.S. since arriving in 1997.

“I hope that when they walk away from here, they feel like, ‘Hey, we’re not alone,’” he said.

As the world’s most played and popular sport, soccer has a way of bringing diverse communities together, with similar soccer tournaments for immigrants organized in the U.S. in recent years.

Subedi, who has loved playing soccer since he was a young child, described it as a game where “there is no language needed.”

“You just come together and play,” he said.