“There’s been hundreds (of donations) probably,” from coaches, friends and soccer families as far afield as Redwood City, she says. “Soccer uniforms get used once and then sit in the cupboard and don’t get used again. It seems like such a waste of clothes, especially considering there are kids around the world without any clothes.”
Syme boxes up the uniforms and carries them to her garage, where they will remain until a helping hand guides them to their destinations in Liberia and Sierra Leone in Africa – the birthplaces of her six adopted sons.
 Barbara Syme allows her adopted grandchildren to try on some of the donated soccer jerseys that are headed to needy children in Africa. |
“There’s a lot in there,” she says.
From her journeys to Sierra Leone and Liberia, at the orphanages where Syme found her children, she recalls an inherent love for soccer, especially among children.
“Kids all over the place play soccer there, so you could hand these out on the street corners and there’d be plenty of takers,” Syme says. “But they usually kick around something with their bare feet and make soccer balls out of anything they can find.”
That includes kicking soccer ball-sized rocks around in the dirt, said Musa, one of Syme’s boys from Sierra Leone.
The uniforms, Musa said, “would make (kids at the orphanages) really happy and mean a lot.”
A single mother who juggles a full-time job and six boys, Syme’s schedule, her home, and her hands are all full. To get the shipments underway, Syme is coordinating with a few organizations and individuals who, as it happens, make special efforts to deliver soccer gear to African children.
Jeremy Johnson, a construction worker from Fort Collins, Colo., flies to and from Liberia to build community centers for kids. Whenever he jaunts to Africa he tries to pack his bags with as many supplies as airline regulations allow. Johnson transports only the bare essentials: medication, school supplies, building materials … and soccer jerseys.
“It’s American football magnified by 20,” Johnson said of the soccer culture in Liberia. “The people there live, eat and breathe soccer. But that’s all they have. Their overhead is a soccer ball, and they’ll use it until it’s literally shredded to pieces.”
Johnson said he handed out about 50 pounds of gear to kids in December and “didn’t even make a dent.” In preparation for his next flight, in March, he has arranged to haul between 100 to 200 pounds of Syme’s uniforms.
“This time we’re gonna take a bunch of stuff out, so that every kid can get a jersey or some cleats or something so they don’t feel left out,” Johnson said.
Johnson shares his mission with several organizations, both domestic and international. Among them are Peace Passers, Spirit Liberia and U.S.-Africa Children’s Fellowship – groups Syme has considered in her quest to get soccer equipment to African children.
Syme’s sons remember what soccer meant to them at the orphanage – it was “the only sport we knew how to play,” 10-year-old Adam said. To this day they’ll break into teams based on their home countries and play three-on-three matches in their backyard in Half Moon Bay.
“They love making it an international competition,” Petra Syme said. “There’s always a soccer ball being kicked around.”
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