Brazilian women still struggle for acceptance at home,
Females left out in country crazy about men’s game
Brazil’s famed bright yellow soccer jersey conjures up images of a nation utterly obsessed, consumed and in love with its national team, more so than any other country.
Yet while the Brazilian women’s team, which starts its World Cup campaign Tuesday against South Korea in Montreal, shares the same distinctive apparel as its male equivalent, the reality of life for its players is very different.
“Brazil is not the greatest land of football, it is the greatest land of men’s football,” said Aline Pellegrino, the recently retired former women’s national team captain. “If you are a woman and you want to play, it is not the same.”
Sexism in Brazilian soccer is rife and deep-rooted. Smaller crowds for matches and lesser media coverage are one thing — the same can be said for virtually every country in the world.
But young Brazilian girls and women also face drastically limited opportunities in soccer, with active discouragement from parents and society and a frustratingly constant battle against outdated stereotypes.
Female players on professional teams have been discouraged from having short hair, and taunts from male spectators frequently included the derogatory Portuguese term for “lesbian,” according to Caitlin Fisher, a Harvard graduate and former pro player who moved to Brazil when the American women’s league Women’s United Soccer Association folded in 2003.
“People really put social pressure on women not to play soccer,” Fisher told USA TODAY Sports. “Soccer is associated with masculinity in Brazil. It is a very traditional, male-defined thing. There is a lot of prejudice for women who are seen as a threat to that, just by the simple fact that they want to play.”
In 2010, Fisher and other players started the Guerreiras Project, aimed at combating discrimination against women’s soccer and helping the broader goal of fighting discrimination against women in Brazil.
She was inspired by stories of players such as Pellegrino, who defied her father’s orders forbidding her from playing soccer as a child and by what Fisher calls a “pervasive sense of social stigma” toward the women’s game.
Fisher stopped playing two years ago when her club, Santos, one of Brazil’s most famous and wealthiest, cut its women’s team. The reason, she says, was to pay the increased salary required to retain men’s team superstar Neymar. A year later, after the 2014 World Cup, Neymar headed off anyway — taking his talents to Spanish giant Barcelona.
Brazil’s men’s team has won soccer’s biggest prize five times, and its crushing defeat to Germany in a semifinal last year was seen as a national tragedy. The women’s side has yet to win a world title, losing in the final in 2007, but, considering the obstacles its players have overcome, the fact that it is a consistent contender is a victory in itself.
“We are hungry to win the World Cup,” said Marta, Brazil’s standout player and one of the most exciting talents in the tournament. “But we also want to inspire girls in our country to play and to believe in themselves. That is very important.”
While there are limitations, progress has been made. At least women’s soccer isn’t banned in Brazil anymore, as it was by government decree from 1941 to 1979. By then, in the USA, Title IX had been in place for seven years, and the U.S. boom in women’s soccer was well underway.
Brazil is among the favorites for the World Cup and could meet the USA in the Round of 16 in what would be a mouthwatering matchup. But win or lose, the struggle for acceptance will go on.
“Even if Brazil wins the World Cup, there is still a long way to go,” Fisher said. “And a lot of hurdles to overcome.”