"The Captain"
Like in every African country, soccer is played and practiced with such dedication one might assume it's one of the several religions practiced on the continent. In Zimbabwe, my brothers and I used to play soccer in the streets from dawn till dusk with each of us dreaming of becoming the next Pele. Our soccer balls were handily crafted with plastic bags and newspapers. , talk about recycling. In our neighborhood streets we were nicknamed, "madhara madhara"- the unstoppables because we had won our local 3 v 3 tournaments for five consecutive years. Soccer was our altar and we all aspired to one day win the world cup for our country, just as we had conquered our neighbors.
On the 20th of March, 2006, our dream looked possible when one day our father walked in the living room and said, "Mwari ari ko, tiri kuenda ku America!" maybe you should say what this means We all started crying as we realized that our lives were forever changed. For the next four months we practiced soccer about 4-5 hours a day with the assurance that the opportunity was there and our success depended solely on how much we wanted to grab it. In July , we finally moved to the USA. During our early days , we spent most weekends playing soccer in local parks, but this time with real soccer balls, cleats and on green grass.
Because of the skills we had acquired playing on the streets of Harare, Zimbabwe , it was no surprise that my two older brothers qualified for the varsity team as sophomores. As varsity players, my brothers often complained about the unfair selective treatment of players, especially, those of Hispanic origin. Two years later when I enrolled in High School, I too qualified for the varsity team as a freshman. As a player , I too began to notice the disparate treatment of players, but I too also was to scared to speak out. Unfortunately, because of this the varsity team often failed to reach the top, despite having capable and talented players. My brothers and I informed my father about this but he advised us not to say anything as we were new to the town and didn't want to cause any controversy. My brothers then graduated from high school and went on to play college soccer. Following our father's advice, I didn't speak up against the unjust treatment of my fellow teammates. My junior year, my teammates voted me as team captain.
My brothers and I were never ill-treated, I guess because we were looked at as the stars of the team. Now as the new team captain, I asked myself how I could turn a blind eye to such issues. Prayer was not enough. I was plagued with internal strife. I often stayed up at night contemplating my childhood dream, the scholarships, awards and recognition that soccer brought me at my school in Zimbabwe and the scholarships I hoped to receive through soccer at my current high school. One day I decided enough was enough, and decided to approach ed the coach. Not fully aware of what my actions could lead to, I voiced my concerns. Twice I left the coach's office with promises which would go unfulfilled. The third time I was removed from the team. My teammates, their parents and I approached the athletics school and district authorities, but to our anguish, the subsequent investigation found, "there was no intentional discrimination", despite all the players in the program and some teachers acknowledging there was. We were advised to take up the issue legally. Somehow along the way, "committed" support from the Hispanic parents and players was not forthcoming, making our case difficult. Later I discovered that some of the parents of the Hispanic players were threatened, for reasons that were not obvious to me then, thus making our case difficult.
Initially I was devastated, not only had I failed to resolve my teammates' problems but most probably, I had also lost my childhood dream of becoming the next Pele. However, in retrospect, I don't look at the resolution pessimistically. Since the incident , former teammates and parents have thanked me saying the dynamics have changed and the coach is treating everyone fairly. This experience taught me the true meaning of leadership. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing. After the incident, one of the parents texted me, "You might not play soccer in high school but what you did is the most honorable thing that I have seen a 17 write this out year old do. You fought and stood up for my child even though you were not discriminated against. You not only taught my child a lesson but my husband and I also. Thank you Simba." Looking back , I do not look at the resolution negatively but price it because of the change it made.
With this experience and my experiences in Zimbabwe, I decided to pursue an internship in the summer of my rising senior year at Mike Magana's law firm in order to explore a career in law. At the law firm, I shadowed Mike Magana, defense attorney, and accompanied him to court room sessions. The intern ship solidified my career interest.
Though I do not regret or look at my soccer experience negatively, I value it because it taught me that one plus one is not always equal to two. In contrast my law internship showed me a career that makes one plus one equal to two. At Harvard, I hope to continue playing soccer while studying to gain a degree in law so that I can help and empower individuals like my fellow teammates.
Like in every African country, soccer is played and practiced with such dedication one might assume it's one of the several religions practiced on the continent. In Zimbabwe, my brothers and I used to play soccer in the streets from dawn till dusk with each of us dreaming of becoming the next Pele. Our soccer balls were handily crafted with plastic bags and newspapers. , talk about recycling. In our neighborhood streets we were nicknamed, "madhara madhara"- the unstoppables because we had won our local 3 v 3 tournaments for five consecutive years. Soccer was our altar and we all aspired to one day win the world cup for our country, just as we had conquered our neighbors.
On the 20th of March, 2006, our dream looked possible when one day our father walked in the living room and said, "Mwari ari ko, tiri kuenda ku America!" maybe you should say what this means We all started crying as we realized that our lives were forever changed. For the next four months we practiced soccer about 4-5 hours a day with the assurance that the opportunity was there and our success depended solely on how much we wanted to grab it. In July , we finally moved to the USA. During our early days , we spent most weekends playing soccer in local parks, but this time with real soccer balls, cleats and on green grass.
Because of the skills we had acquired playing on the streets of Harare, Zimbabwe , it was no surprise that my two older brothers qualified for the varsity team as sophomores. As varsity players, my brothers often complained about the unfair selective treatment of players, especially, those of Hispanic origin. Two years later when I enrolled in High School, I too qualified for the varsity team as a freshman. As a player , I too began to notice the disparate treatment of players, but I too also was to scared to speak out. Unfortunately, because of this the varsity team often failed to reach the top, despite having capable and talented players. My brothers and I informed my father about this but he advised us not to say anything as we were new to the town and didn't want to cause any controversy. My brothers then graduated from high school and went on to play college soccer. Following our father's advice, I didn't speak up against the unjust treatment of my fellow teammates. My junior year, my teammates voted me as team captain.
My brothers and I were never ill-treated, I guess because we were looked at as the stars of the team. Now as the new team captain, I asked myself how I could turn a blind eye to such issues. Prayer was not enough. I was plagued with internal strife. I often stayed up at night contemplating my childhood dream, the scholarships, awards and recognition that soccer brought me at my school in Zimbabwe and the scholarships I hoped to receive through soccer at my current high school. One day I decided enough was enough, and decided to approach ed the coach. Not fully aware of what my actions could lead to, I voiced my concerns. Twice I left the coach's office with promises which would go unfulfilled. The third time I was removed from the team. My teammates, their parents and I approached the athletics school and district authorities, but to our anguish, the subsequent investigation found, "there was no intentional discrimination", despite all the players in the program and some teachers acknowledging there was. We were advised to take up the issue legally. Somehow along the way, "committed" support from the Hispanic parents and players was not forthcoming, making our case difficult. Later I discovered that some of the parents of the Hispanic players were threatened, for reasons that were not obvious to me then, thus making our case difficult.
Initially I was devastated, not only had I failed to resolve my teammates' problems but most probably, I had also lost my childhood dream of becoming the next Pele. However, in retrospect, I don't look at the resolution pessimistically. Since the incident , former teammates and parents have thanked me saying the dynamics have changed and the coach is treating everyone fairly. This experience taught me the true meaning of leadership. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing. After the incident, one of the parents texted me, "You might not play soccer in high school but what you did is the most honorable thing that I have seen a 17 write this out year old do. You fought and stood up for my child even though you were not discriminated against. You not only taught my child a lesson but my husband and I also. Thank you Simba." Looking back , I do not look at the resolution negatively but price it because of the change it made.
With this experience and my experiences in Zimbabwe, I decided to pursue an internship in the summer of my rising senior year at Mike Magana's law firm in order to explore a career in law. At the law firm, I shadowed Mike Magana, defense attorney, and accompanied him to court room sessions. The intern ship solidified my career interest.
Though I do not regret or look at my soccer experience negatively, I value it because it taught me that one plus one is not always equal to two. In contrast my law internship showed me a career that makes one plus one equal to two. At Harvard, I hope to continue playing soccer while studying to gain a degree in law so that I can help and empower individuals like my fellow teammates.
