Skills for the real world

On a day when Street Soccer CVL celebrated its recent success, the team’s unofficial spokesperson was nowhere to be seen. And his coach wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dale Rojas, 38, had become a leader among a diverse group of players on the team, which is made up of homeless men and political refugees. He was a no-show when the team gathered at Downtown Athletic at Seminole Square to discuss its third-place finish at the U.S. Cup last weekend in Washington.

The reason? Rojas was hard at work in his new custodial job at Fashion Square mall. He’ll soon begin a second job at Littlejohn’s Deli on the Corner — which might cut into his soccer time, but you won’t hear coach Joshua Bare complain.

“One of our guys who had been frustrated, who had been out of work, went back and started applying for jobs on Monday morning,” Bare said. “He has already gotten a job. He is our team spokesperson, and he’s not here because he’s working.”

There was plenty to celebrate for Rojas’ teammates on Monday, starting with their bronze medal in the DC Cup competition. Two of the team’s refugees were honored individually — Iraqi goalkeeper Sammy Almohelm won the Courage Award, while midfielder Ehneh Ser, a refugee from Myanmar by way of Thailand, earned a spot in the national pool, placing him in contention for a spot on the U.S. team in the Homeless World Cup in Milan, Italy, in September.

Ser, 23, scored 17 goals in the U.S. Cup, second-most in the tournament. His family moved from Myanmar to a refugee camp in Thailand shortly before he was born, and he lived there his entire life before seeking asylum in Charlottesville less than a year ago.

Ser now lives with his family in an apartment on Jefferson Park Avenue and works on the housekeeping staff at the Boar’s Head Inn.

“You’re not free to go outside,” he said of his life in the refugee camp. “You have to stay in the camp every day. … When I came here, we have freedom to do everything.”

Ser and his teammates have been a quick success in a program that has been in place for only six months. Bare and University of Virginia student Trigg Brown, younger brother of Street Soccer founder Lawrence Cann, put the team together as an offshoot of Hope Community Center on 11th Street.

“We started going to Hope Community Center in the mornings and eating breakfast there,” Brown said, “sitting down, taking the time to get to know some of these guys, coming out there three or four days a week in the mornings, kicking a ball around, collecting interest. Once we developed some relationships and got some trust, we started practicing regularly in the evenings and eating together.”

Bare was looking for a new outreach program after the community center’s homeless shelter was shut down in a zoning dispute. The Covenant School graduate, a former NAIA soccer All-American at Lee University in Tennessee, got in touch with Brown after reading about Street Soccer, and the pair started holding small practices last fall before ramping up the program in the spring.

To join the team, players are required to put together a resume, go through interview skill classes and participate in job fairs.

“We want to use Street Soccer to give a different face to homelessness,” Bare said. “These men who are out here want a better life. They want to work. They’re not panhandlers, not drug addicts, not drunks. They are people who are really trying to get back on their feet.”

Other players are recent immigrants trying to get a foothold in the United States. That’s the case with Almohelm, 42, a former member of the Iraqi army who worked as a translator with U.S. soldiers before emigrating in June.

Almohelm — who asked that his real name not be used due to fear of reprisal from Iraqi insurgents — joined the program on the advice of his brother, a fellow refugee, one day after arriving in Charlottesville.

“I make relationships with people, friendships,” said Almohelm, who is trying to obtain his work visa. “It’s support for homeless people. This is a hope that’s everything in their life. If you have no hope, you can’t continue in life. We play with the hope to one day get a job in America or to be professional.”

That professionalism is one of the values Bare and Brown hope to impart.

“A soccer team or any sports team is an incubator for leadership, for dealing with frustrations and anger, dealing with team dynamics,” Bare said. “You have to have all of these things when you go into the workplace.”

The team has also been a vehicle for the Charlottesville players to get noticed by Street Soccer USA. Ser has already gotten his call to the national pool, and the coaches thought that Almohelm warranted a spot as well.

“We were really surprised that he didn’t make the national team,” Bare said. “He had the best record, and he’s a character. He’s a story that people should hear about. He’s not only a guy who was here for political asylum, but he’s an Iraqi soldier who was a speed translator for American soldiers who went into combat with them.

“I have seen his commendations from 12 or 15 battalions where this sergeant, this major, says Sammy Almohelm has saved American lives. He has pulled men out of combat. They actually let him carry an M-16 into combat because he was somebody they trusted.”

That trust extends to their coaches, who spend their evenings checking on the players’ whereabouts.

“We spend, sometimes, driving around an hour and a half trying to find everybody and keep tabs on people,” Brown said. “In Charlottesville, you can drive five minutes out and you’re in a rural place. Some of these guys live in tents, so making sure they’re all right and keeping tabs on them is a pretty important thing.”

It’s all part of a day’s work for Bare and Brown — using soccer and fellowship to help their players rebuild their lives or start new ones in a strange land.

“We still have players who are living on the street, living in the woods, trying to get their life together,” Bare said. “This is the tool that we use to encourage them, to say, ‘Life is tough, life is rough. You’re living in the woods, but it’s not your end.’ This is a stepping stone.”