Naomi Girma is the best of America.
In the literal sense, she is U.S. Soccer’s reigning Female Player of the Year and, at just 24, the anchor of the back line for the U.S. women’s national team. She’ll make her Olympic debut with the USWNT on Thursday, a year after playing every minute of every game at the World Cup.
But it’s the figurative sense that’s even more important. Girma is a first-generation American, the daughter of two Ethiopian immigrants. When she dons the jersey with the U.S. crest on the chest, it’s a reminder of the promise this country holds and proof of how much better we are when we welcome, and celebrate, the melting pot of races and cultures that is uniquely American.
Her father, Girma Aweke, (in Ethiopia, children take their father’s first name as their last name) was a teenager when he fled Ethiopia during the “Red Terror,” a violent civil war that left more than 1 million dead. Aweke eventually made it to the United States as a refugee and put himself through school by working as a busboy and a dishwasher, becoming an electrical engineer.
Education brought her mother, Seble Demissie, to the United States, and she stayed after she graduated. She worked in banking and met Aweke through the Bay Area’s Ethiopian community.
The two settled in San Jose, where they raised Naomi and her older brother, Nathaniel. Maintaining their heritage was important, however, and Aweke and some friends in the Ethiopian community began a Saturday morning tradition of gathering at a local park. The adults would have coffee and socialize while their kids played in what became known as the Maleda soccer club.
As in most other countries around the world, soccer has a passionate following in Ethiopia, the equivalent of the NFL here. Still, none of the Maleda parents dreamed these weekend games in local parks would take their kids anywhere. Education was their priority, their own experiences reinforcing the idea that school was the key to the American dream. MIT, Columbia, Penn and Stanford are just a few of the schools where Maleda kids have gone.
Girma and her family didn’t know anything about the pay-to-play system that dominates youth soccer in the United States, powerhouse clubs that have become the main pipeline to college scholarships and the national team.
Even if they had, they wouldn’t have been interested.
When Girma was in second or third grade, however, one of her best friends joined a local club, Central Valley Crossfire, and she asked her parents if she could, too. Demissie said they hesitated at first; both she and her husband worked, and they didn’t know how they’d get Girma to practice.
But other families in the club said they could carpool, and they and Girma’s parents took turns shuttling their girls to practices and games.
Girma was a teenager when she took part in the Olympic Development Program, which IDs players for U.S. Soccer’s youth system. She was selected for the U.S. Under-14 team, and steadily rose through the ranks despite continuing to play primarily for either Crossfire or her high school team.
She did occasionally play with De Anza, one of those high-profile clubs, as a “visiting player.” But unlike most of the top players in the United States now, Girma’s most formative years were spent playing simply for the fun of it.
Though she grew up playing midfield, the U.S. youth team coaches shifted her to center back, a spot often reserved for the brainiest on the roster. Indeed, Girma is a cerebral player, with the ability to anticipate how a play will develop and make the appropriate adjustments. She’s also fast and fearless, and her poise calms everyone else on the field with her.
After being a three-year starter at Stanford (she redshirted as a junior after tearing her ACL) and a two-time Pac-12 Defender of the Year, Girma was the overall No. 1 pick in the 2022 NWSL draft by the San Diego Wave.
Three weeks before she made her debut for the Wave, she got her first USWNT cap. By the end of the year, she was a regular in the starting lineup. At last year’s World Cup, where the USWNT made its earliest exit ever at a major tournament, Girma was one of the few positives. Whatever other problems the team had to solve, director of defense was not going to be one of them.
Girma hopes her unique path to first a Stanford scholarship, then the No. 1 pick in the NWSL draft and now a cornerstone of the USWNT will show kids, and their parents, that they don’t have to play for one of those big-name clubs to be successful.
If that’s what a kid wants to do, great! If they don’t, or if it’s asking too much of the family, Girma is proof there are other ways to get noticed. Her talent, and the support of everyone around her in those formative years, mattered far more than the name on the front of her jersey.
By reaching the heights she has, Girma is also an example for all those kids who look like her or are also children of immigrants.
Soccer has, traditionally, been a white sport. Dunn, Smith and Girma all have talked of wondering if they belonged because there weren’t other kids who looked like them when they were growing up. Now the three, along with Mallory Swanson and Trinity Rodman, are some of the USWNT’s biggest stars.
Each year, the Ethiopian Sports Federation in North America holds a festival to bring the Ethiopian diaspora together and celebrate their culture and heritage. It’s centered around – what else? – Soccer. Significant figures in the Ethiopian community are honored, and this year Girma was one of them.
She was chosen because she’s a role model for all Ethiopians but particularly those here in the United States, said Yared Negash, a spokesman for the federation.
For Girma and her family, they’re just happy they can, in a small way, give back to the country that gave them so much.
“Endless opportunity is what (my parents) saw and found here,” Girma said. “Me being in this position is one of those opportunities that they didn’t really think of but kind of happened and we’re grateful for. It just shows the beauty of this country.”
