A Safe Field: How Soccer Without Borders offers Refuge and Hope to Immigrant Youth
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For many young immigrants navigating the complexities of a new life in the United States, finding a sense of belonging can be a daunting challenge. But in Oakland, California, Soccer Without Borders academy is offering more than just a game – it’s providing a lifeline of safety, camaraderie, and hope.
It began with 21-year-old Dilan Pinzón, whom I first encountered in April, sitting on the sidelines of a soccer field, contemplating his team’s fate.It was the third game of the season for a squad that hadn’t secured a single win in its inaugural year. The challenges facing Pinzón and his teammates extend far beyond the typical hurdles of building a winning roster. Most are recently arrived immigrants, many without family support and burdened with financial responsibilities that make consistent practice nearly unfeasible. Even traveling to workouts carries risk,as Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents have been known to target individuals based on appearance. “We are not a normal team,” notes coach Eric Cortez.
Pinzón, identifiable by the freckles across his nose and a Donald Duck tattoo on his calf, arrived in the US from colombia in 2023 with his father, who soon abandoned him. For eight months, he lived out of his car, a rented Prius parked at a planet Fitness, before enrolling at Oakland International High School. The disruption cost him years of schooling, leading him to enroll as a sophomore at age 19 while working food deliveries until 3 a.m. to support himself. Despite the exhaustion, he never missed a game. “Being on the field with this team,” he shared in Spanish, “is ‘my perfect place.'”
Founded in 2005,Soccer Without Borders has grown from humble beginnings – early practices held on a concrete pitch – to a multi-state nonprofit operating in Colorado,Maryland,and Massachusetts,serving over 50 US teams and expanding internationally. The association uniquely offers free access to its teams, providing a crucial sense of safety and normalcy for players from 74 different countries as they navigate the challenges of immigration, including the impacts of stricter policies like those enacted during the Trump administration.
SWB’s eldest squad, where Pinzón plays, is designed for players who have aged out of youth leagues but may still be in high school due to educational gaps. The team is a diverse mix of players from Chile, El salvador, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, and Peru, many of whom have extensive competitive soccer experience. Their first season in the semipro United Premier Soccer League was a harsh awakening, marked by significant losses – including a 9-0 defeat – due to scheduling conflicts and difficulty building team cohesion.
“we weren’t ready,” admits James Ullyse,a Haitian forward balancing junior year coursework with jobs at Whole Foods and a local restaurant. Joaquin Zapata Bueso, a forward from Honduras who arrived at age 16, recalls his frustration while working as a waiter and airport wheelchair assistant to finish high school. Coach Cortez consistently urged calm from the sidelines, shouting “¡tranquilo, tranquilo!” when tempers flared.
The game offers a vital distraction from the trauma many players carry.Pinzón and his father fled Colombia due to threats from gang members. their journey thru Mexico was harrowing, including a kidnapping and ransom demand. Pinzón eventually swam across the Rio Grande, was handcuffed by Border patrol, and detained for four days. After their release, they flew to California, but their relationship quickly deteriorated, leaving Pinzón alone and sleeping on the streets before securing the rental Prius.
The challenges extend beyond basic needs.Access to affordable immigration lawyers and bilingual therapists is limited, creating a “triple trauma” for unaccompanied minors – escaping hardship at home, surviving the journey, and facing hostility in their new surroundings, according to Kristina Lovato, a professor at the University of California, Berkeley. Organizations like SWB provide crucial support, but Lovato emphasizes that “not being welcome does a lot to one’s psychosocial development and psyche.”
Increased deportations under the Trump administration have heightened anxiety among players, with some leaving practice early or skipping games altogether to feel safer at home. Pinzón stopped doing late-night food deliveries after spotting ICE vehicles. “The truth is,I’m scared because I don’t wont somthing to happen to me,” he says,expressing fear fueled by news and social media.
Despite the anxieties, the team fosters a supportive environment where players share job leads and court dates, but primarily find a space to simply be kids. “The game becomes a medicine,” Cortez explains. “There’s a built sense of belonging.” Cortez, a US citizen with roots in Mexico and California, not only coaches but also develops programs for the players, assisting with English language skills, resume reviews, and college applications. Recognizing the financial strain on some players, he even brought in a nutritionist to help them plan balanced meals.
Shortly after joining, Pinzón confided in a coach about his living situation, and SWB helped him find a room. He now shares an apartment with three teammates, spending their limited free time enjoying burgers after matches or playing FIFA video games. “Honestly,” Pinzón says, “we’re like a family.”
As the players grew closer, their performance improved. Toward the end of their first season,they managed to tie Stockton,a top team in the league,before narrowly losing in the final seconds. It was a turning point, a realization that they could compete.
The second season began in the wake of the Trump administration’s deportation of hundreds of migrants to a prison camp in El Salvador without due process.Fueled by newfound unity, they won their first two matches. “We’re the same, but we talk more,” says Ricardo Cuadra. “It’s the trust in ourselves and in each other.”
During a particularly intense match in May, a confrontation erupted after an opposing player shoved Cuadra. Cortez reminded his players to remain composed. Shortly after,defender Danny ayala Del Rio suffered a fractured tibia and fibula,and was carried off the field by his teammates. Midfielder Alan ramos Guardado, from guatemala, tended to his injury, while Cuadra affectionately kissed Ayala Del Rio on the head. (Ayala Del Rio spent the remainder of the season on crutches.) in a postgame huddle, Pinzón praised Cuadra’s playmaking, leading the team in a cheer: “Together on me, together on three…!”
“If we win games, it’s all together. If we lose games, it’s all together,” Cortez consistently told his players.
SWB finished its second season sixth out of 20 teams, missing the playoffs by a single goal. “Hopefully we can make it” next season, says Peruvian midfielder Maykel Martinez Relyz. Many players dream of professional careers or coaching, eager to give back after experiencing their own struggles. “I had to go through a lot,” Pinzón reflects.
As border restrictions tighten and deportations increase,fewer immigrant teens may arrive in Oakland – or anywhere in America. But for those who do, this squad stands ready to offer support. “I’ve had a lot of joy on the team, and I’ve found my values,” says Zapata Bueso. “Any new players are welcome.We’ll receive them like family, too.”
