By Kristan Obeng
Lansing State Journal
LANSING (AP) - Mohammed Essa and several other children were sprinting across a soccer field at Risdale Park.
"They don't know the rules of the game," McKennah Kench, who was overseeing the group of boys and girls, told the Lansing State Journal. "We're going off street smarts right now."
Mohammed, who is 11, was determined to learn. His upbringing hasn't left much time for sports. His family was forced to leave Syria a year after civil war erupted in 2011.
The family of eight bounced around several Middle Eastern countries, including a refugee camp in Jordan, where they faced racism from the locals, according to Mohammed's older sister, Rawan.
Most of Mohammed's teammates are also immigrants. Many arrived here as refugees. Some are still learning English
Mohammed, like the others, is facing challenges he's still too young to fully understand.
But he does understand the excitement of playing sports. And just like any other kid, he wanted to play.
Kench and a few others are helping to make that happen.
Mohammed tossed a soccer ball to one of his coaches, Robert "Robo" Underhill.
"You got to cradle it," Underhill said. He demonstrated the technique as he gripped the ball in one hand.
Mohammed belongs to a co-ed soccer team called Summerplace United.
The team was named in honor of the Section 8 housing complex where these youth live, SummerPlace Townhomes. Most of the complex's residents are refugees.
"SummerPlace is a good transitional spot," Kench said. "It gives them the ability to get started."
Kench, who is 21, has been going to the townhome complex since June 2018 to drive the children to and from practice and games, which can be anywhere between Lansing to Detroit.
"Many of the kids' parents are working, and they can't afford to take off from work," said Oscar Castaneda, board president of the Capital Area Soccer League, a nonrofit that works to make soccer accessible to young people.
The first time Kench visited the apartment complex, it didn't seem like she'd be able to form the soccer team that Trinity Church asked her to help start.
"It was raining, and only one kid was there," said Kench.
As she coaxed the lone child into playing a game with her, she spotted another.
"Hey, there is another kid!" she remembered exclaiming.
Summerplace United started with two kids. By the following week, dozens of children were interested in playing. It now includes three soccer teams divided by age.
Forty-eight children ranging from ages 7 to 13 make up the three teams. These children represent at least 14 countries, among them Afghanistan, Rwanda, Somalia and Malaysia.
Capital Area Soccer League sponsors Summerplace United and also worked with the city of Lansing to allow the team to practice at Risdale Park.
"You pay rent every time you practice," Castaneda said. "Typically, in the Lansing area, you pay $60 for a field rental for a practice session or a game."
The city waived those fees.
The Capital Area Soccer League and Lansing Soccer Club also donated equipment and uniforms to the team. Trinity Church donated water bottles, and it pays Kench's salary, though her work at the church is more than just soccer.
Kevin Tiu, who is 11, tumbled to the grass for a third time during the afternoon soccer practice.
As he'd done each of the previous two times, he regained his footing and immediately ran back toward his teammates.
Kevin, his parents and 7-year-old brother, Wilder, left Guatemala in 2018. They didn't carry much with them. They crossed the U.S.-Mexico border without authorization.
Kevin's uncle Diego Ixcotoyac-Us, now 22, understands why. He came to the U.S. by himself when he was 14. He crossed without legal permission, too.
"(Gangs) would try to kidnap kids. They would call parents and ask for money to get kids back," he explained. "We were never on the street. We would be careful."
And his family often didn't have enough to eat.
Ixcotoyac-Us started working on a farm at age 10. No one would buy what he was growing because those in Guatemala could no longer afford it.
If his nephews were back in Guatemala, they'd be expected to work on a farm, not go to school, which requires payment to attend, Ixcotoyac-Us added. There also wouldn't be much time for soccer.
Ixcotoyac-Us was able to secure a green card and get placed with the foster father he still lives with.
His nephews, who arrived as the Trump Administration was reducing the number of refugee resettlement programs, are undergoing removal proceedings by the U.S. government.
Ixcotoyac-Us is not sure what will happen to his nephews without the sense of belonging they get from playing with Summerplace United.
Soccer "is their motivation," said Ixcotoyac-Us. "They get excited because they get to do it here."
Rawan Essa, 17, watched her brother practice with Underhill.
"I love supporting them," she said. "My parents can't come."
But she is always there to keep up with Mohammed's new obsession. He often plays FIFA 19 on PlayStation at 2 a.m. and constantly watches soccer games, she said.
"His favorite team is Barcelona," Rawan said.
It's quite different from her brother's early years.
"Because of the war (in Syria), people are not safe," Rawan said.
When she was 10-years-old, Syrian President Bashar al-Assad's police force dropped bombs on her village in Daraa. Rawan remembers seeing cars bringing in the badly injured.
The same police came into her village to steal from residents, she said, burned her uncle's house down and raped a girl in front of her father.
"All the kids who live with wars, they will never forget anything from what they saw," Rawan said.
More than 13 million Syrians had been displaced as of 2018, according to USA for UNHCR, which is a non-profit United Nations agency that helps refugees rebuild.
After leaving Syria in 2012, one of the places the Essa family lived was Jordan, where Rawan said her family was treated horribly.
"They were racist (in Jordan). They only like people from Jordan," Rawan said. "You can't work. You can't get a car. That was a big reason to come here."
The Essa family lost everything. They didn't have a real home until they moved to the U.S. three years ago, Rawan said.
"We have each other, even if we have nothing left," she added.
And now Mohammed also has soccer.
"Come on. Block my shot, boy!" Bakri Abakar shouted to Mohammed.
Then Bakri, who is 11 and came to Lansing from Sudan, kicked a soccer ball into the air to demonstrate his skill.
"I can do it!" Mohammed said, running to stand in front of the goal.
"It's funny because (Mohammed) is usually the shooter," Kench said. "And (Bakri) is usually the goalie."
Mohammed then tossed the soccer ball to his sister, who quickly darted away.
"You can't catch it!" he said.
He was laughing, happy.
Published: Tue, Oct 29, 2019
