Mexico City, Mexico (Part 3)

This was set to be the final session in a marathon-week of programming, but we were certainly going out in a very special way. As mentioned in our Colombia programs, we’ve been trying to revisit past beneficiaries when possible – just to check-in and see how our former players have grown throughout the years. On top of that, we hosted an extremely special guest at this session – Janelly Farias, a professional footballer for storied Liga MX Femenil side, Club America. Janelly is a leading advocate for visibility in sport and accessibility to the game, so it was only fitting that today’s session was one of our trademark all-girls programs in collaboration with the incredible Hogares Providencia.

I visited Hogares’ for a double-session back in October of 2020, relatively early on in the pandemic. I was excited to get back and see some smiling faces a little more clearly this time around with no masks. I confirmed things with my contact at Hogares, and passed along some final details to Janelly. I made sure to emphasize that what we needed was her presence and that for the kids, that’s always enough. Per usual, the curriculum and prizes for our participants would be supplied by Around the Worlds.

After an early Thursday morning wake up and an Airbnb change, 3 o’clock rolled around, and it was time to prep things for the session. Left with a surplus of equipment from some changes in our first few sessions, every kid in today’s program was going to receive a new soccer ball, a custom Around the Worlds drawstring bag, and a Mexican-themed pulsera from my Mom. How fitting that the following day, Friday, was Mexican Independence Day! Nothing intentional about this; just a happy coincidence.

I packed all the aforementioned regalos in two bags and called an Uber. The screen read ‘4:05 arrival’ This was perfect because we weren’t starting until 4:15. I tossed everything in the back and we hooked a left onto the main road where we were met with bumper-to-bumper traffic. My heart sank a little bit. We inched forward ever so slowly, my eyes shifting back and forth at my phone and the driver’s GPS. The only thing that seemed to be progressing was our ETA, as it climbed from 4:05, to 4:06, to 4:07, and beyond.

We were in the thick of it now and Waze was serving nothing but false hope. “6 minutes to destination,” the driver’s phone read. 10 minutes passed by, “6 minutes to destination” it read still, despite us inching forward a block’s length. Our driver sensed my stress, “Amigo I’ll try to find a different route” – 16 minutes, ETA 4:23 it said.

“Ay no that won’t work,” I said.

“Can you look up the arrival time for walking?” I asked, a last ditch effort more than anything.

“1 kilometer, 13 minutes,” he relayed to me.

Without second guessing, I told him we’d just walk the rest of the way – “Wait, I’ll take you as close as we can down another route,” he said, compassionately pulling onto an open street that terminated right before another calle principal.

Grabbing our bags out the trunk, he gave an unneeded apology though I assured him it was out of his control and we were cool. “Estábamos moviendo como oruguitas,” I said with a laugh, passing a tip his way for his troubles. Roller bag to my right and a garbage bag of 15 more soccer balls in tow, we started the trek. A drop of water hit my neck, and I shook my head. We went an entire week in Mexico City (CDMX) without rain just for it to rain down at the most inopportune time. We hustled as best as we could, through passing cars and passing glances at the clock, the map, then back at the clock again.

One block away, the end was near and we hustled the remaining distance. The sign “Hogares Providencia IAP” met our gaze, a long-awaited finish line to a disastrous start to the program. Breathing heavily, wiping sweat from my brow, I rang the doorbell three times, no answer. I tried one more time – the door flung open, behind it – a friendly, familiar face. It was my contact Mario, the same man who had greeted me prior to our session so warmly nearly two years ago.

With a firm handshake and a wide grin, he led me through the same hallways leading to the open play area in front of the kitchen. Recognizable surroundings brought about a wave of nostalgia as I recounted our nightmare journey from just before to Mario, sparing him most of the details. The kids were just finishing up an event and the play area was filled with tables, chairs, food, and more – so perhaps I wasn’t as late as I felt. Mario proclaimed there was a mountain of kids, but we would be working with 25 girls aged 8-18 as we had planned before.

The girls live elsewhere, but they could stick around an hour for the session while the little kids left our playing space so I could hurriedly set the session up. I was trying my best to give myself grace, but it’s never a good feeling arriving somewhere late, especially having made the commitment already. Lucky for me, anxiety fades with familiarity, and in these repeat sessions familiarity is ever so existent – between former participants, familiar staff members, familiar surroundings and more.

Mario led me over to a colleague in charge of the older girls who were all present & accounted for. She shared a brief sentiment about remembering our 2020 session, specifically the ‘British Soccer Camp’ tee shirts we gifted the kids, before adding that whatever I needed, she was there to help. Mario helped her organize the girls and clean the playing space as I finally got a chance to breathe. Making my way towards Janelly, I laid out a loose plan for the session: listening drill, relay races, a shooting drill, a fun little game for prizes, and then a closing charla.

Luckily, and unsurprisingly, she was familiar with the listening activity, which made for an easy transition into our first drill. “Ears!” “Orejas de su amiga!” I yelled, the girls bursting with laughter.

“Cambio posiciones!” I yelled, stealing this one from Proyecto Cantera from just days ago in our first session.

The kids scurried to the opposite side.

“Again!” I yelled.

They scurried right back.

“Balón!” I yelled, soccer balls were thrusted into the air, other kids fell to the ground, while others laughed and hugged – the result of the game was far less important than the playing of it, that was for certain.

Janelly ran a round, as the girls gave her their undivided attention hoping they might come away victorious this time. From there, I surveyed the group, enlisting the help of a captain to lead us through the session – Janelly picked out a girl eagerly raising her hand as high as she could. Lizbeth was her name. She met us front and center, as Janelly helped pull the yellow armband over the thick cuffs of her gray hoodie.

Lizbeth took over for Janelly and ran the next round of the listening drill, carefully thinking before each command, a finger to her temple signifying she was not going to take her responsibility as captain lightly. Following one last round featuring popular commands like pompis and bigote and plenty of laughs later, we broke into three teams of eight for some relay races – utilizing the same grid from our listening exercises.

We kicked things off with stationary stepovers, graciously demoed by Janelly, executing three at each cone in absolutely perfect form. When it was time for the girls to try it, we found ourselves scrambling throughout the entire grid chasing after loose soccer balls that had been knocked from their perched positions.

“I should’ve started with something easier,” I said to Janelly, with a chuckle, vowing to move to something far less difficult next.

Keeping my promise, we hit a round of zig zags, then I had the niñas jump como pingüinos, before concluding things with one final variation of the drill. After, we circled up for mano o cabeza, as I explained the rules to our group. Janelly met me center-circle and took over, helping run the game until five winners were left standing.

Off the hook for at least five minutes, I made my way over to our bags to prep prize packs for the kids. Despite rummaging through my equipaje, I managed to look over my shoulder a few times to see Janelly smiling brightly while saying mano o cabeza, the kids excitedly mirroring the same joy back at her both in victory and defeat.

Finally, our winners list was complete and the regalos, like their soon-to-be owners, were ready. I had the girls sit down just in front of Hogares’ kitchen for a little end-of-program charla.

“What about you Lizbeth? Anything?” I asked – “Tal vez algo sobre liderazgo?” I said, pointing to the banda on her arm.

She was a shy one, so I had hoped that maybe the arm band would help break her out of her shell but alas we did our best, we can always only do our best.

“Ay profe no,” she said.

Wrapping up the charla, I instructed the kids to give themselves a round of applause before giving a thunderous applause for Janelly for sharing her time and her skills with us today. As we all congregated near one of the goal frames for a big group photo, Mario shouted “Okay chicas, on three: vamos America!’”

“Vamos America!” they yelled.

“Okay, now this time…” Mario started, “for Janelly!” the kids responded with a synchronized chant for Janelly, clapping, hooting, hollering and everything.

“Now, for Stephen!” Mario commanded, as the kids repeated the cheer, replacing Janelly’s name with mine.

With time drawing thin, the kids all crowded around Janelly as she took her time signing each and every one of their goodies – their bags and their soccer balls. Between firmas, they asked her questions curiously, “Profe Janelly where are you from?” one asked.

“Ooh, and where is he from?” Another asked, pointing my way. “He’s from Connecticut. It’s far away from here,” Janelly said. As kids approached me with their bags and soccer balls as well, I made my way over to the side to talk with the same staff member from before. She was quite familiar with Janelly and had managed to ask her for a photograph before the session even began.

“I went to their game earlier this season, the one against Tigres in the Azteca,” she said, proudly. “Thank you for bringing her here to visit with the girls,” she added, stressing just how special of a day it was for them.

An older girl came up to me, showing off her orange bag – “Look I got both autographs already! And on my ball too!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear as she opened her bag to reveal an autograph-tattooed ball sitting at the bottom of it, like she had just finished a scavenger hunt.

With everything wrapped up and the girls lined up outside to head back home, I said a quick goodbye to Janelly while thanking her again for dropping by the session. “That was really special for the girls, thanks so much for everything.”

“Thank YOU for reaching out,” she responded. Adding that she hoped to go back to Hogares soon and to let her know whenever we were back in Mexico City to do something else again.

You see, I’d been hoping to bring this session to life for a long time. Thanks to an assist from Moni Flores’s twin sister Sabrina following our pro series session in Monterrey, I was put in contact with Janelly back in June. Honestly, though, I was aware of who she was and how ever-present she was in the sport we love for a long time prior to that. I was always inspired by her transparency, by her advocacy, and for the passion she carried for her team, her city, her country, and her sport.

She’s someone who’s done so much to not just advance the game for women, but just to move the game forward in general. Her work on both sides of it, as a player and as a broadcaster, is so incredibly important for young girls to see – so that one day they believe that they can do it too. Humbled by the thought that she could’ve done anything else and been anywhere else on a day like this, especially before Mexican Independence Day, I passed her a custom bracelet from moms – a special lil dual-National number, the colors of the Mexican flag on one end, those of the American flag on the other – joined at the crossroads by a soccer ball, with a handwritten card folded around it

“Thank you for giving these girls an example of how great they can become, but more importantly, thank you for giving them a reminder of how great they already are,” it read.