SERIES | Homelessness and the Beautiful Game

by Ari Robin McKenna

Recently, at Arena Sports Magnuson, Edgar played another Tuesday night game for his squad, Street Soccer Seattle — made up of players who are or have been recently on the city's streets or in its shelters. To onlookers, the only thing that suggested anything more than a game of soccer was taking place was that Edgar seemed to be smiling, imperceptibly. When he was knocked to the turf by the opposition, or when a pass arrived late, Edgar's calm remained.

Street Soccer Seattle lost their match despite Edgar's four goals, but looking at the players, you wouldn't know it. Some of them are tired, yet the group promptly congregates around a table as coaches Chris Burfeind, Yoel Ortiz, and program alum and mentor Carlos Vasquez review the match, in Spanish and English, interspersing life lessons with takeaways from the evening's game.

It becomes obvious that the score in Tuesday night's match is secondary; even when Street Soccer Seattle players lose a match, they are honing in on winning at the bigger game of life. And for Edgar — after what he's been through — there are plenty of other reasons to smile.

The day after the match, Edgar attended his first college class at Renton Technical College, a crucial first step towards a degree in cybersecurity. He's also in his own apartment, works as a driver, goes to the gym, and enjoys reading about marketing in his spare time.

Besides his personal transformation and on-field leadership qualities, Edgar carries a mystique among his teammates for being one of only two Seattleites who played in the 40-team Homeless World Cup last July in Sacramento, California. The tournament, in its 20th year, is the basis for a recently released fictional Netflix film The Beautiful Game.

For Street Soccer Seattle coaches Burfeind and Ortiz, it is a beautiful game, because they've seen so many transformations like Edgar's. The program started in 2009, not long after the national street soccer organization, Street Soccer USA, was founded out of a North Carolina soup kitchen by two brothers. Street Soccer Seattle's mission is "supporting and empowering young adults who have been affected by homelessness." It's run by a skeleton crew of volunteers, yet they've helped countless youth move into stable housing and employment.

"We're at this intersection between sport and social services," says Burfeind, and he specifies that "we're not doing it in a vacuum … We wouldn't be able to do it without case managers that are putting in long and hard hours of work every day."

Most Seattle Street Soccer players have laid their heads at shelters like Catalyst, Roots, Passages, Union Gospel Mission, the Salvation Army, the South Seattle Youth Center in Rainier Beach, or in tents on the streets.

Despite being home to some of the globe's wealthiest people and companies, Seattle has one of the nation's highest homelessness rates. On their website, Street Soccer Seattle ventures to name how that stunning, persistent inequity could be possible.

"We believe homelessness is a result of the breakdown of community."

As the conversation from Tuesday evening's game wraps up, the players and coaches unwind together before heading off into the cold Seattle night.

Edgar's Story

Growing up in Guatemala, Edgar says he had friends but didn't have strong family support, and he didn't feel safe. It felt as though the local gangs and cartels were closing in on him. Edgar says, "If I stayed in my country, I knew that I was not gonna make it."

Feeling like he had no other choice, he came, alone, to the United States around eight years ago. Edgar had nothing when he arrived but a desire for safety and education.

Switching to Spanish, Edgar describes what was missing when he got here: "Las conexiones con las personas es algo muy bueno en la vida." ("Connections with people are vital.") Without them, he said he became severely depressed. Even though he saw himself as someone who worked towards self-improvement, Edgar turned to drugs.

"Being alone without a family, not having someone who is there for you supporting you in your life," says Edgar, "I've been through a lot in the past since I was a kid."

Around two years ago, local nonprofit Friends of Youth brought him to his first Street Soccer Seattle practice. He found the atmosphere contagious, and a counterweight for his addiction. His coaches and new teammates seemed to appreciate him.

Ortiz says he noticed early on how Edgar was encouraging other players and how he was helping to build camaraderie within the group — a natural leader. Burfeind was impressed with his regular attendance and punctuality, noticing how "consistent" and "driven" Edgar became.

Initially, Edgar says playing on the Street Soccer Seattle team "helped me with all my frustrations and panic." The regular training sessions and games helped him because he was "meeting people," "getting out of depression," and "getting out of my comfort zone."

Later on, it became even more impactful. Edgar says he's learned "how to be in family" and how "to get to know friends."

After about a year and a half with the program, Edgar was one of two players selected by his coaches from Street Soccer Seattle to travel to Sacramento, California, for the Homeless World Cup — an international tournament that celebrates the work of organizations like Street Soccer Seattle across the globe. Edgar bonded with and played alongside other unhoused or housing-insecure teammates from across the U.S. as they placed 11th out of 28 teams.

"It was an amazing experience," says Edgar. "I met a lot of people and I enjoyed it a lot." He now says he understands that ftbol (soccer) is "more than just sport."

When the Emerald asked Edgar what he thought of the new Netflix film The Beautiful Game, a fictional account of the British team's experience at a Homeless World Cup taking place in Rome, Italy, Edgar replied, "I haven't had time, but I'm excited to watch it!"

A Street Soccer Seattle Training Session

In the carpeted University Presbyterian Church gym on Thursday, Burfeind and Ortiz take turns explaining the norms of the drill in English and Spanish. "Take the Space" is the focus, demonstrated to players through a slightly modified version of a rondo — a common soccer drill further popularized by the tiki-taka purveyors, Spanish team FC Barcelona.

Street Soccer Seattle teaches life skills through soccer using the national Street Soccer curriculum, where the eight central tenets (Show Up, Play with Heart, Look Up, Take the Space, Build Your Triangle, Praise Great Play, Play the Plan, Adjust the Plan) are adapted to the needs of Seattle's players. They explore how moving to the spaces on either side of your teammate with the ball provides them with options, and "taking space" is also a proxy for asking yourself if you're in the right spot currently, and if there's a way for your teammate to get you the ball.

"If I got a goal that I'm trying to do in life, trying to get this job, is there a clear path? If not, I gotta move to some space that's going to be more successful, a better chance to get that pass, to get that ball," says Burfeind.

Speaking with the Emerald, Burfeind relates this skill to another one central to the curriculum: "Build your triangle." Moving without the ball and working for each other instills the idea of reciprocation, and having people to reach out to combats the idea that the only way out of difficult situations is to grind all by yourself — something that can be a pitfall for people trying to get back on their feet. "You can't push through obstacles all the time. You need to have those people around you to give and receive help."

A mechanical engineer from a small town, Burfeind, who began working with Street Soccer Seattle when he was a freshman in college in 2011, says his exposure to refugee communities has had a significant impact on the person he's become.

Ortiz, who showed up at his first Street Soccer event a decade ago, was asked by former Sounder Steve Zakuani to fill in a Univision reporter on what the program was all about. He quickly interrogated his friend Conner, who at the time was involved with Street Soccer, and then repped Street Soccer in Spanish on TV. He has been with the org ever since.

A patient access coordinator in the infusion/CTU department of Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, Ortiz, who is currently Street Soccer Seattle's volunteer coordinator, generally sees the scope of Street Soccer's impact in a pragmatic way, but also feels that their work can have a "butterfly effect." He says "even if it was just an hour distraction" for the participants, that can impact their struggle about how they are being perceived in Seattle society.

"Homelessness gets kind of a stigma around it," says Ortiz, and people end up thinking it's all "drug-based." "That's not necessarily the case," he continues. "I feel like at any moment, it's just one wrong turn, or your job lays you off and you just can't recuperate from that. It can really lead someone down a path that no one would have imagined could happen to any of us."

Burfeind and Ortiz are interested in regrowing Street Soccer Seattle after the number of volunteers, sponsors, and participants shrunk during the pandemic. The female team has all but disappeared.

Much of their annual fundraising goes to bringing six to eight participants to the national Street Soccer tournament that alternates between New York and San Francisco. Current partnerships with YouthCare, Arena Sports, University Presbyterian Church, and Street Youth Ministries have kept existing programming possible.

Currently, they're seeking volunteers, mentors, and practice coaches, as well as "networking or partnership opportunities," Burfeind explains. "The more people that understand about our program, the more people that our players can get connected with as they move forward in their progression."

Though Burfeind knows "chronic homelessness is hard to break out of," both he and Ortiz understand that when someone like Edgar begins to gain traction, they've participated in an act of community repair.

Or as Susan Wokoma, the actress who plays Protasia, the nun coach of the South African team in The Beautiful Game, says, "Nobody can save themselves; we save each other."

Featured image: Edgar, in foreground and in color, smiles after a Street Soccer Seattle match. Coach Yoel Ortiz, in a plaid shirt, speaks to the team as mentor Carlos Vasquez, stands to the left, arms crossed. (Photo: Ari Robin McKenna)