As summer started to slowly fade away, school had begun. On my first day of school I was extremely nervous because I hadn’t known what to expect. I didn’t know how different it was going to be; I didn’t know how Jordanian kids were going to be, and I didn’t know if I would make any friends. When I first arrived with a cluster of other fourth grade students, we were divided into our classes. As soon as we entered our class, I was introduced to my teacher, Miss Jenny, as well as all of the other students in the class. They all seemed to speak English well, but they had a different accent when speaking. It was an Arabic accent, and sometimes it was funny to listen to.
At school, I didn’t make any friends. They all seemed very different culturally, and I didn’t fit in with them. I thought being at a place filled with hundreds of kids would help me, but it didn’t. My loneliness and isolation grew more and more by the day.
Chapter 7
Run Like a Girl
Because of my lack of social interaction, I found comfort in doing something I was familiar with: playing soccer. I was shocked that I was the only girl who played soccer, but I later realized why. Once I started joining the boys during recess, they all looked at me with confused faces, and ignored me. They never passed to me, and I never once touched the ball. They were very talented and much better than I was. Therefore something that I loved turned into something I questioned myself about.
Should I even be playing? Is it okay that I am playing? I am the only girl who plays, and it seems out of place to play, so should I stop? These were the questions that constantly boggled my mind.
Not only would they not pass to me, but some guys even left the game just because I was playing. At the beginning of recess when they would choose teams, those guys would walk away if they saw me waiting to be picked. “Oh my god, why is she here,” or “Why is she playing? Girls don’t know how to play,” and even “Ew, since when do girls play football?” They would say these things with their voices full of venom and ignorance, and their words left a forever lasting sharp pain in my chest. Before this I had never felt discriminated against, and it made me long for the days where I would play on green and lush fields back home in the States. Anger clouded my head from their harsh words, but it quickly would dissolve once I started playing.
I knew the boys would never pass to me, which led to my eagerness to retrieve the ball. I tried my hardest, defending players in the best way I could. I failed miserably in the beginning as they were extremely fast and were more skillful than I was, but with time and determination I learned their weaknesses and started retrieving the ball back. I had only done this so often, but it did give me a better reputation. Even proving myself to them didn’t stop them from discriminating against me.
I once again felt nostalgic, and wanted to go back home and play with people who accepted me and would actually allow me to play. I didn’t like being the only girl who played, and I hoped that there would be just one girl somewhere who also loved (and had the passion to play) soccer. My prayers were answered, when the head coach at the school, who also happened to be the football coach, came up to me and said:
“Hi, my name is Coach Samir and I’ve seen you play football with the boys a lot. We have a school girls’ team. I would like for you to try out. The tryouts are Saturday, and I hope you can make it.”
My eyes opened wide and I felt excitement electrify my body like I was plugged into an outlet. I couldn’t believe that there was a girls’ team, and now I could finally play with people who would accept me.
“Yes! I would love to tryout!” I exclaimed tremulously.
I had never felt as happy and excited as I did in that moment, especially for something so small. That small something had been what my entire life was about.
Chapter 8
Not So Big After All
On the way to the tryouts Saturday morning, I was a little nervous because I did not know what to expect. I questioned myself about the girls who would show up. I wonder which girls in my grade play soccer. How come I’ve never seen them play with the boys? Is there something wrong with playing with boys? I hope I’m even good enough to be on the team. Knowing that the boys were very talented in this school, I wondered how good the girls would be. Football was a major sport here, so I didn’t think I would even be qualified for the school team.
“You will be fine, honey. I know you are very talented. Don’t doubt yourself. If the coach didn’t think you weren’t good enough, he wouldn’t have asked. Just do your best, and remember to look at the goal before you kick,” my father said in his soothing and calming voice.
We finally arrived at school and made our way to the secondary school football pitch in the playground, because it was a new campus and the gym had not been completed. To a young girl, the size of the field was quite intimidating and that heightened my nervousness. The grass was artificial but there were real trees surrounding it and the field was bordered by a brick walkway.
I looked towards the end of the field to find a cluster of players with Coach Samir.
“Go, its okay. I will be watching you from here,” my dad said with a smile on his face. It was only ever so often when my dad smiled, and it was not because he wasn’t a happy person but because he only used his smiles for proud moments. This was one of them. He was happy and proud that I never stopped playing the sport I loved, despite the discriminatory acts that were inflicted upon me. He got to see his little girl smile about something that she loved which made him smile alongside her.
I quickly ran to the other end of the field to see several very tall girls. I was a quarter of their height, and I looked up to scan their faces to see if I recognized any of them from my grade or fifth grade and I didn’t. They were all in secondary school, meaning they were all in either middle school or high school.
“Taleen! I’m so glad you could make it!” Coach Samir said thrilled and excited that I showed up. I smiled but then my smile nervously faded away. They were all big girls, and I felt like a small tiny ant standing next to a giant. “Alright girls, let’s start the tryouts. Everyone grab a football and start dribbling!” he said.
We all got a football and started dribbling. As I was dribbling, I glanced at the other players to see how well they dribbled. To my surprise, they dribbled even better than I thought. They would lightly tap the ball with the sides of their feet, keeping the ball in range and controlling it well. They looked extremely professional and it made me doubt myself.
We were then assessed on how well we could continuously juggle the ball. I could only do it for so many seconds, but the other girls were able to keep juggling the ball for quite a while. I slowly started losing confidence as I noticed a major gap between how well the other girls could play and how well I could play. They were all great players and much better than I was, so I lost hope in being able to join the only girls team I knew of.
Finally, the last part of the tryout was to test our shooting. There were five balls set out, and we had to see how many we could get into the net. I watched the other girls shoot, and most of them got every ball in the goal. Each time they kicked, the ball would make a loud sound from how fast the ball was going. Watching them shoot that well made me feel like there was no way I was going to be a part of the team. At that point, I almost felt like walking off the football pitch, but something in my heart told me to just give it one more chance.
It was then my turn, and I took a deep breath out of nervousness. I stood before the ball and focused on it. I remembered my father’s words: “Look at the goal before you kick.” I then took a glimpse at the goal and charged for the ball. Once I shot it, the ball spiraled in the air and entered the goal. I could see from the corner of my eye that Coach Samir was surprised. I focused on the next ball, and kicked. That ball went into the net, too. One after the other, each ball made its way into the net.
After I finished, a lot of the girls clapped and cheered. It felt great to be praised, especially by players who were much older and better than I w
as. Shortly after coach Samir said, “Well, I guess we have a new addition to the team!” while he clasped his hands around my shoulder. I smiled as I was thrilled to finally be able to play the sport I loved the most on an actual team.
Chapter 9
Smaller Than I Thought
I attended my first practice with the new girls’ team. Once I entered the field, all of the girls came and pinched my cheeks and said how cute I was. I liked being admired, however I came home that night with sore cheeks.
At this practice, we did lots of new drills and things that I have never done before. I was so surprised by how much they trained, and they focused so much on the technical parts of football. I enjoyed these practices, even though they exhausted me. At such a young age I could only do so much, but I managed to continue to play.
At the end of practice, we decided to play scrimmage. I was very excited about playing scrimmage as it was one of my favorite things to do. We were divided into two teams, and luckily, I was placed at my usual position for the game. I was also excited about seeing how these girls played scrimmages, as they might have a different style compared to the way I play.
We began the match with our team starting with the ball. We took a chance to go forward, and a girl had passed it to me. I was standing at a position where I could shoot. However, when she passed to me she missed me by a bit and the other team gained control of the ball. I applied pressure on the defense, but did not recover possession of the ball. The other team had the advantage and got very close to the goal. One of the girls was about to shoot, but a defender quickly grasped the ball from her. Because the area was crowded, she cleared the ball, sending it off high into the air. The defenders from the opposing team managed to get the ball back; therefore I charged at them to get it back. As I sprinted towards the defender, she kicked the ball extremely hard and the ball hit me in the face. I had only been a couple of meters away; therefore the ball hit me really hard. I fell to the ground, and my nose started to bleed a little. Coach Samir came running to check up on me and inspected it.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing severe. You just bruised your nose. I called your dad and he is on his way now,” Coach Samir said with a tone of concern.
I stood up, and felt extremely dizzy. The coach advised me to sit down until my dad would come; the coach gave me an icepack. I sat down on the bench holding the icepack to my nose, and waited for my dad to come a pick me up. The girl who hit me in the face approached me.
“I am so sorry! I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you! Are you okay?” she said amiably.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” I reassured her.
She then gave me a hug and said if I needed anything I could always go to her. I liked being on this team, because the girls were very friendly and sweet towards me. I then saw my dad walk in with a conspicuous concerned look on his face. As soon as he saw me, he came and immediately checked up on me. I had told him I was fine and then he had said he was glad I was okay.
On the way home my dad said that he didn’t want me to continue to play with these girls, as they are much older than I am, and because of that I might get hurt—or continue to get hurt. I didn’t want to quit the team though, because it had been the only girls’ team I had known that was out there. I wanted to be able to play with girls since I was not accepted anywhere else. I asked him to let me play with them for a while and to let me decide for myself. Thankfully, my dad accepted my request, but told me to be careful when playing with them.
… The next practice I attended was even more eventful than the last. This one was a little more difficult, but my determination kept me going. I knew that in order to continue with this team, I was going to have to work really hard and want it badly. Therefore, I did my best, however this led to more injuries. Because, I was so into the game, I had been playing aggressively to keep up with the other girls. They were tough and much bigger than I was, so I would fall easily. I ended with a huge scrape on my leg and a bruise on my knee. I didn’t mind it, because I knew it was a part of the sport, but until my dad saw it, it hadn’t been a problem.
After practice was finished, I walked off the field and sat on the bleachers all by myself. I took off my cleats and slipped on another pair of shoes. As I was waiting for my dad to pick me up, a tall blonde girl who was one of the best players on the team sat next to me.
“Hey Taleen,” she said. “Why are you sitting alone?”
I hadn’t known the actual answer as I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t intentional, I guess it was just because there was no one my age to talk to and it would feel weird talking to older girls who would talk about different things.
“I don’t know, I mean I don’t have any friends on the team.” I said.
“I am your friend,” the girl said. “Everyone on the team is your friend. You shouldn’t feel lonely. I mean, what’s the point of being on a team with twelve girls if you can’t consider any of them your friends.”
“I guess you’re right.”
She then hugged me and introduced me personally to everyone on the team. I got to meet all of the amazing players, but the one who stood out the most to me was the team captain. She was an astounding player, and my older cousin who was in her grade, had told me that she always played football with the boys in her grade. I had admired her for one, because she was a great player, and two, the boys played football with her.
“How do you get the boys in your grade to allow you to play?” I asked her. She giggled at my question and replied.
“They shouldn’t have to allow me to play. It’s a game where anyone can play. I just show up and we play together. It’s our love for the game that overpowers any opinion that either one of us could have about the other.”
I looked at her in awe and was so surprised by her ability to change their opinions for the better.
“The boys in your grade are immature, so I’m sure they are still going to try and exclude you. But maybe if you try and change their minds, and prove to them that you deserve an equal opportunity, they will mature enough and will be accepting,” she continued.
My dad then had arrived, and I waved good bye to my new friends. As we were walking to the car my dad noticed the injury on my leg.
“What happened sweetie?” he asked.
“Nothing, I just fell while we were playing.” I replied.
“It looks like more than just a fall, honey. Did someone push you or trip you?”
“Well, yeah, I was shoved a little and I tripped over my own feet, but the girl apologized and said she didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t think you should be playing with these girls anymore, sweetheart. They are too old for you, and every practice you go to you get injured. I think it’s time you quit.”
I froze in shock by the words that came out of his mouth. He wanted me to quit? Why? I had only just joined the team and finally found people I liked playing with.
“Quit!? This is the first time I found a group of girls who play football in this country, and you want to deprive me of it? It’s already bad enough you made me move to this horrible country.”
“I am only doing what is best for you. Don’t worry, I’ll find you another team your age for you to play on.”
My anger had evaporated at the sound of “another team” and more specifically at “your age.” My dad was right; it was dangerous for me to play with older girls. Although I really liked them and they were very sweet to me, but with a new team I won’t be in so much pain.
The next day at school I talked to my coach, and told him I was quitting. At first, he was shocked and surprised, but he understood.
… While walking, I had noticed the boys playing. I had taken the advice of the captain of the girls’ school team and applied it to my situation. The next day at school, I went up to the boys while they were playing football and demanded that I play, and that this time they would have to pass to me. The boys scoffed at the idea I proposed and continued to play. The only way I could make t
hem listen was to take the ball from them. Therefore, I defended my best against each player who had the ball until I was in control of it. I picked up the ball with my two hands to get their attention.
“I will not put the ball on the ground until you guys let me play.” I demanded.
“Why should we let girls play? They don’t know how to play,and they don’t know anything about sports,” one of the guys replied.
In shock by their ignorance, I walked away taking the ball with me. They all started chasing after me, wanting the ball back. They chased me all the way to my fourth grade teacher, who questioned what was going on.
“In the beginning of the year you mentioned how the guys should let girls play,” I said “Well the boys aren’t letting me play, and it is unfair.”
Tattle-tailing was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was forced upon me because the boys weren’t listening to me.
“Alright boys, let her play. There is no harm in doing so,” my teacher told them.
I put the ball on the ground and started playing with them. However, gradually throughout the game, they started doing everything in their power to keep the ball away from me. No one would pass to me and no one would come near me with the ball, no matter how many times I chased them. I grew sick and tired of being excluded from the game, so I left, and never bothered to return.
Chapter 10
From Zero to Something
I now had no one to play with. I had quit the girls’ team from the constant injuries that occurred, and the boys would not let me play. My dad tried looking for a good girls’ team for my age, but he couldn’t find any. I was shocked and surprised that they didn’t promote women’s football here like they did back home in the States. It made me realize how you can’t get the same things in every country, especially when living in a country half way across the world. I had passed the point of feeling despondent, and felt something greater. I had no one to play football with, and it made me long for the days back at home, playing on a vast lush green field with all of my friends.
Big Girls Don't Cry--They Score Page 3