The ball rolls across cracked pavement, chased by laughter and the steady beat of worn sneakers hitting the ground. Luz and Natalia from Nicaragua run together, their movements instinctive. Soccer is in their blood—a cadence they carried long before arriving in Massachusetts. Here, far from the streets they once called home, the game speaks for them when words fall short. Every pass, every goal, every shared cheer stitches together past and present. More than a pastime, soccer fields become a source of social capital, and a powerful tool for adaptation, inclusion, and community building. 

Jogo Bonito gives immigrants more than skills—it nurtures resilience, sparks belonging, and bridges communities, turning soccer into a language of strength and unity.  

For many girls arriving from South and Central America, starting over in a new country is about more than learning a language or finding work—it’s about finding a place to belong. The jogo bonito, the “beautiful game,” offers that and more. Beyond drills and skills, soccer becomes a compass, guiding them toward confidence, friendship, and community. It’s a safe space where differences become strengths and resilience takes root.  

Their stories echo what researchers often say: soccer is a language that needs no translation. It bridges differences, preserves heritage, and offers comfort in the familiar rhythm of play amid the challenges of adaptation. In every goal celebrated abroad, there’s a reminder of where you come from—and a new bond with where you are. With the ball at their feet, girls rediscover courage, identity, and hope. 

The game’s power isn’t just personal, it’s global. Women’s soccer is on track to become one of the top five sports by 2030, with its fan base expected to swell by 38%—from 500 million to over 800 million—by then, and a majority of those fans (around 60%) projected to be women. 

Building on that momentum, since 2006, Soccer Without Borders has harnessed the power of soccer to create safe spaces where young people feel belonging, explore community challenges, and access opportunities for growth. What began as a volunteer-driven project has grown into a global leader in sport for development—earning the prestigious Wharton School’s Lipman Family Prize for social impact, recognition from President Obama as a Champion of Change, and FIFA’s Diversity Award for advancing inclusion. 

That global recognition takes on a local shape in Massachusetts, where Soccer Without Borders (SWB) brings the movement close to home. In 2024 alone, the local SWB hub welcomed more than 1,000 young people from 33 countries. Ninety percent returned year after year, and every regular participant graduated high school—a powerful reminder that the game is about more than kicks. It’s about continuity, community, and the chance to thrive. 

In 2024 alone, the local SWB hub welcomed more than 1,000 young people from 33 countries. Every regular participant graduated high school—a powerful reminder that the game is about more than kicks.

“The first day we opened a girls’ program in Chelsea, 52 girls showed up. That told us: you just have to open the opportunity,” says Bruno Contreras, SWB Massachusetts Hub Director.  

On the field, girls discover their voices, confidence, and leadership. Soccer empowers them to celebrate who they are and demonstrates that the “beautiful game” can transform not just players, but entire communities. “When they feel they have a role—even something as simple as being responsible for the equipment—that responsibility grows. And then they become mentors for the younger girls,” says Contreras.  

When Bruno left Mexico City for Boston ten years ago, he carried with him a belief that soccer could transform lives—a belief sparked by a transformative year working with the Otomi community in his home city. That experience shaped his vocation and inspired him to dedicate himself to soccer for underserved communities. 

What began as an internship with Soccer Without Borders soon became a calling—assistant coach, head coach, and now director of the Massachusetts programs. Today, Bruno leads with the same belief that first inspired him: the soccer field is more than a place to play. It’s a language that overcomes barriers, a space where girls can lead, and a community where migrant and refugee youth find belonging, stability, and hope for the future. “When you add a coach who speaks your language, or who has had an experience as a migrant, that adds an element that makes you feel a sense of belonging,” said Contreras. 

Bruno Contreras left Mexico City for Boston ten years ago. What began as an internship with Soccer Without Borders soon became a calling—assistant coach, head coach, and now director of the SWB Massachusetts Hub. Today, Bruno leads with the same belief that first inspired him: the soccer field is more than a place to play.

Under his leadership, the organization has expanded far beyond its East Boston roots, bringing programs to Chelsea, Everett, Somerville, Worcester, and Springfield. 

Accessibility and opportunity are central to Bruno’s vision. The program is completely free, covering transportation and equipment that could otherwise cost families up to $5,000 a year. High school participants can even earn income by supporting camps, keeping them connected while developing leadership skills. “It’s not only about being participants—they can become coaches, mentors, and even earn an income. That pipeline from participant to coach is part of our goal.” 

Bruno’s work emphasizes belonging, empowerment, and mental health. Girls lead portions of practice, choose team-building activities, and help plan community outings, creating spaces where they can lead, learn, and thrive. Through intentional partnerships, like the one with United Way, the program benefits from regular check-ins, collaborative support, and a clear understanding of the realities on the ground. “We want their voices to always be heard. They lead portions of the practice, decide the team building, and choose community activities,” Contreras says.  

Ultimately, it’s a unifying source of pride, passion, and love—bringing people together across the world, regardless of differences or distance. 

Speaking with Luz from Nicaragua, you are struck by how strong, calm, and confident she is. At just 13, her reflective way of speaking makes you forget her age entirely, as if she were already on the verge of adulthood. 

“The most difficult moment of my young life was emigrating here,” Luz reflects. “It was a big impact on me—a different language and culture. That left me with many struggles. But I realized that this program is not only about soccer. It gives us space to open up, to talk about who we are, what we want to become, and how to move forward.” 

Luz first heard about Soccer Without Borders at her school in Chelsea. “There wasn’t a girls’ soccer team, and they were trying to start one. Friends told me about it, and I decided to give it a try,” says Luz.  

Soccer wasn’t what she grew up playing. “I had always played volleyball since I was little. I never imagined myself playing soccer on a field. But I like to set goals and try new things. Soccer has helped me so much—mentally and physically. Coming here was a way to help myself—more than anything, to center myself and adapt to this new life,” shares Luz.  

Luz also started helping the coaches as a volunteer with younger kids, a role that gave her a sense of responsibility and allowed her to contribute to her community. 

That mental strength, Luz says, is just as important as physical strength. “Soccer is not just technique. It’s mental. Everything is in your head. If you lose your head, you lose the game. It has taught me how to control myself, my emotions, and how to express myself better.”  

For Luz, Soccer Without Borders has been more than just a sports program. It has been a place of empowerment. “This is a space for girls, and it’s about teaching us to empower ourselves. It shows us that we can also stand out, not just men. That’s really important for me.”  

She has also seen her English improve thanks to the diverse community around her. “I have classmates who don’t speak Spanish, so it helps me a lot to speak and write in English,” she says. 

Looking ahead, Luz dreams of a future beyond the soccer field. “My goal right now is to complete my studies, but my dream is to be a doctor. I would also like to get a degree in psychology. Soccer has helped me mentally in ways that connect to both of those dreams—it’s all about knowing how to control yourself and how to understand others.” 

With quiet determination, Luz sums it up: “We are not players. We are people, and we are stories behind soccer. Soccer Without Borders has helped me tell mine.” 

Natalia revived many memories from her childhood and youth as she shared her story, opening her heart and offering a window into the life that many girls like her experience. She vividly recalls the exact day she first walked into Soccer Without Borders at its Nicaragua Hub: November 13, 2008—her grandfather’s birthday—when she was just seven years old. 

Natalia started with Soccer Without Borders at seven in Nicaragua. Today, she’s a Coach-Mentor in Massachusetts, passing on the community and resilience that shaped her.

Living at the end of a quiet street, she noticed the small office and, at a classmate’s invitation, stepped inside. A tiny blackboard announcing “Noche de Manualidades” (Crafts Night) became the doorway to a world that would change her life—a space where she felt safe, free, and seen. Today, Natalia passes that gift on to the next generation as a Coach-Mentor at SWB Massachusetts hub, carrying forward the same opportunities and support that once transformed her own journey. 

At first, it was just a place to play football—a rare opportunity for girls in Nicaragua at the time, where machismo often overshadowed female participation in sports. The program became her sanctuary, a second home where she could laugh, run, and simply be herself. While at home, Natalia and her sister faced restrictions and conflicts. At Soccer Without Borders, the coaches “literally chased us” to practice, but that pursuit was a kindness compared to the confinements of her household. The program gave her freedom, a sense of belonging, and a safe space to grow. 

Natalia stayed in the program for nearly a decade, through her high school years.  “They gave us school supplies, notebooks, pencils, backpacks, twice a year. So, they gave us shoes, and everything. It was a great help for a family with five children and a single mother, who is the breadwinner of the family. It was a breath of fresh air.”  Her time there shaped her sense of community and empathy, instilling in her the belief that collective well-being mattered as much as individual success. 

She pursued Communication for Development at university, but life in Nicaragua grew increasingly unstable. By 2018, protests against the government erupted over environmental destruction, pension reductions, and political repression. Universities became battlegrounds, students were targeted, and friends fled the country. Natalia’s world became unsafe, and she was forced to leave her studies, her beloved soccer program, and much of her familiar life behind.   

Her brother had already moved to the United States. In 2022, a humanitarian program offered her a way out. She had never traveled alone, never boarded a plane—yet she found herself on a flight to New York. The journey was daunting: navigating unfamiliar airports, missing flights, struggling with language barriers. Still, her determination carried her through. She arrived alone, frightened, uncertain of what the future might hold. “I had never taken a plane. I had never left the country—the only time was by bus, to play in El Salvador,” she recalled. “I was very scared. I didn’t realize that, after a certain point, I wouldn’t be able to go back.” 

Adapting to life in a new country came with its own struggles. Living with her brother and sister-in-law, she encountered cultural and familial differences, the pressures of employment, and the challenge of navigating a life entirely separate from the one she had known. 

Natalia and Bruno Contreras guiding campers at a girls’ soccer summer camp in Chelsea.

Despite the challenges, she found her way back to the program—volunteering, reconnecting with old mentors, and meeting new faces from around the world. In those moments, surrounded by the diversity and shared purpose of Soccer Without Borders, she felt that spark again—the sense of belonging and empowerment that had drawn her to the field as a seven-year-old in Nicaragua. “It’s about thinking about the collective care. About the community. I felt like I was part of something,” she reflected. 

Even through fear, displacement, and uncertainty, the program remained her anchor and the lessons of the program stayed with her: the importance of community, the strength of kindness, and the courage to keep moving forward when the path is unknown. Soccer Without Borders had always been more than football. It was a home, a classroom, a community—a place that taught her how to thrive, no matter where life took her. 

For women and girls arriving in a new country, soccer is never just a game. It is a bridge between cultures, a reminder of home, and a declaration of belonging. On the field, they find the strength to rebuild identities, the confidence to lead, and a community to carry them forward. Research shows the impact: in immigrant-dense leagues around Washington, D.C., 90 percent of players made new friends and socialized off the field, and 9.5 percent reported landing a job or interview (Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies). Luz and Natalia show that every pass and every goal carries more than athletic value—it tells stories of migration, resilience, and hope. And through leaders like Bruno and programs like Soccer Without Borders, the “beautiful game” becomes a lasting home of its own, one where immigrant women can thrive, and where every kick tells a story of courage and connection.