Impact’s Brovsky an athlete with a social conscience
‘It’s the most selfless thing you can do’
Before coming to the end of the story, like all great tales, and understanding what motivated Jeb Brovsky, what helped him to become a man who wants to have an impact on the lives of impoverished children, you must go back more than a decade, learning about the tragedies and violence he was exposed to from an early age.
Born in Lakewood, Col., Brovsky was a fourth-grade student, only 10 years old, at Normandy Elementary School in April 1999 when two senior students, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, orchestrated a massacre at next-door Columbine High School. The pair murdered 12 students and one teacher in the shooting rampage. Four of his neighbours, including 15-year-old Daniel Mauser, who lived two doors from Brovsky on a quiet cul-de-sac, were killed. Mauser, in the library at the time, died from a single shot to the face.
“I can go through that day, secondby-second, what happened, where I was,” Brovsky, now 24, and heading into his second season as an Impact defender, recalled during an interview this week. “To have that vivid memory in your head every single day of your life, to have that tragedy so close to home, really shakes a young man’s world.
“Daniel was absolutely brilliant and kind. He wouldn’t hurt a soul.”
Two years later, Aly Meyer, a sixth-grade student in Brovsky’s class, was killed by a drunk driver. That same year, one of Brovsky’s friends, Joey Yates, also a sixthgrade student, committed suicide.
Instead of shielding his eyes to these tragedies, Brovsky’s family encouraged him to speak about his feelings, trying to help him understand the world as it was. Nonetheless, he internalized so much, trying to fathom what had transpired. Why, at such a young age, it seemed he was attending far too many funerals.
As he grew older and matured, and started to understand social evil exists, that bad things happen to good people, Brovsky was drawn to the macabre, determined to make a difference.
“It wasn’t fascinating, but I was so drawn to (Columbine) as an experience. I wanted to learn as much as I could,” Brovsky said. “I wanted to change something, be proactive. It drove me to my social outlook of life. If you have a goal or passion ... if you believe in it, fight for it.
“It numbs your heart and body, but it gave me something to fight for. You’re a human. You’re not invincible. Things can happen. It was my cross to bear when I was young. The fact I was going to funerals at such a young age advanced my perspective on life. Through the grief of others, things can be learned from. Hopefully out of the ashes arises a rose. There’s no better way to live on in these people’s memories than try- ing to change something.”
Soccer and other sports were Brovsky’s outlet. His father, John, was one of the co-founders of the Colorado Rush, a minor soccer program. Brovsky jokes his father put a ball in his crib and it wasn’t long before the toddler was kicking it. Indeed, as the story goes, the infant was strapped to his father’s back while he was coaching one of the youth teams.
But Brovsky also developed into a brilliant student, attending the University of Notre Dame, where he majored in business management and international peace studies, earning bachelor’s degrees in both. He had a cumulative 3.472 gradepoint average in the former.
While taking a course, Peacemaking in Divided Societies, Brovsky learned of thousands of children in war-torn countries forced to become soldiers.
And so it was, in the fall of 2010 as a junior, Brovsky had a stroke of genius, creating an organization that would become known as Peace Pandemic — a volunteer-based global group that harnesses the power of soccer to create opportunities for children, worldwide.
Brovsky and his wife, Caitlin, conducted an 18-day tour of India following the 2011 season. Last winter, they visited Guatemala for eight days.
Brovsky’s mandate is to alleviate social injustice — especially that inflicted against girls — while facilitating cross-cultural understanding through soccer, the one sport in the world whose requirements are simple, a ball, but a sport that’s played seemingly everywhere.
Brovsky believes soccer can be a vehicle for social change, that a ball and field can help unite those who suffer from cultural, racial and religious differences.
“Our No. 1 issue is violence against women, the treatment of girls and gender inequality,” Brovsky explained. “It’s shocking.”
With the help of a translator, and working with nongovernmental organizations in the countries they visit, Caitlin, who has a degree in exercise science, wants girls to understand they can strive to become professionals, like her. Brovsky, in turn, wants the boys to comprehend the true test of a man revolves around the manner in which he treats women.
They might play on haphazard, makeshift fields strewn with broken glass, the children in bare feet, but soccer’s the catalyst. Brovsky isn’t naive enough to believe conducting these camps guarantees things will change, but believes the message being conveyed, combined with the fact it’s being delivered by a pro athlete, doesn’t hurt.
“Kids going through a constant grind, begging, seeing a soccer ball and thinking that’s their outlet. That’s what makes me happy,” Brovsky said. “The sport’s gravitating, because it’s played everywhere and requires nothing. If you saw what we were doing in India, that’s why they call it the ‘beautiful game.’
“A lot of these boys don’t have a man in their lives, especially a pro athlete. They don’t know my name, but they know I play against David Beckham ... Carlos Ruiz ... That connection alone makes them tune in. And if they see a man treat a woman with respect, as an equal ... it opens their eyes. That’s the first breakthrough we want.”
Brovsky hopes to visit Africa or Haiti next winter, and will attempt to raise some of the funds through a pair of upcoming fundraisers — a poker night in April along with tentative plans of staging a celebrity game at Saputo Stadium this season. But mostly, Peace Pandemic survives on the generosity of donations.
As for the season, that’s approaching soon enough. The Impact, which has been training in Florida since Feb. 7, plays Columbus on Saturday night (8 p.m., TSN2, RDS2) in the final of the Disney Classic before launching its regularseason March 2, at Seattle.
About to embark on his third season of MLS play, Brovsky has the distinction of playing for Vancouver and Montreal, two expansion teams. Not only has he never made it to the playoffs, in Marco Schallibaum, Brovsky’s playing under his fifth head coach in three years.
Articulate and intelligent — not to mention the Impact player most active on Twitter (@JebBrovsky) — Brovsky could easily become the face of the franchise. “This is my art, my career,” he said. “I take it seriously and am blessed to play pro. I understand it’s based on performance and is a business.”
He quickly denies he should be called a saviour, despite his cause, and said this isn’t about himself. Perhaps not, but he should be commended nonetheless.
“It’s about what’s bigger than ourselves as humans. It’s what connects us,” he said. “I hope my career and hard work has given me an outlet to get this going on a larger scale. It’s the most selfless thing you can do.” To learn more, visit peacepandemic.org. Donations are accepted through PayPal on peacepandemic.blogspot.com