When Girls Hold the Whistle, Everything Changes

Every whistle signals more than the start of a match. It says: Here is a space of rules, of fairness, of accountability. For youth at Soccer Without Borders (SWB), that whistle also marks a turning point – a small but powerful moment when a game becomes a training ground for leadership, voice, and transformation.

Refereeing is more than knowing the rules of soccer. It is an education in judgment, communication, and courage. Every call requires confidence. Every disagreement tests empathy. Every decision builds trust. In the friction of a match, when tempers flare or pressure rises, referees practice skills that will serve them for life: staying calm, weighing fairness, and standing by their convictions.

For SWB participants, referee training is not about memorizing regulations; it is a workshop in character. Over time, these young referees learn to bring those same lessons into their communities – listening deeply, navigating differences, and balancing authority with understanding. On the field they guide the game, but off the field they guide one another.

For girls, stepping into that role carries even greater meaning. Leadership in sports has long been coded male, especially in public or high-pressure spaces. So when a girl picks up a whistle, raises a flag, or calls a foul, she is doing more than officiating – she is claiming authority in a space that rarely hands it to her. She is proving that composure, fairness, leadership, and confidence are not gendered traits but human ones.

At SWB, girls are surrounded by mentors who help them hold that space. Coaches trained in trauma-informed methods ensure that girls learn to not only lead but to lead together. By constantly underscoring the beauty of building community together, the coaches help frame the contributions of referees as a responsibility that, in many ways, only makes sense for the girls themselves to hold. The experience changes how they see themselves and how they are seen. One participant described it simply: “[Being a referee] is another beginning in my life, a new opportunity for me.” Those beginnings and the power they develop ripple outward.

That ripple began far from the United States. SWB programs in Uganda and Nicaragua built the first girls' leagues years ago, rooted in the belief that when girls lead, entire communities shift. In Nicaragua, girls became captains, referees, and organizers of community tournaments. In Uganda, that seed has grown into something extraordinary: a national network known as the Uganda Girls Leagues.

The Uganda Girls Leagues began as a local effort and have quickly expanded across five regions, engaging 838 girls in their first round of play. By the next round just a few months later, that number had climbed to 1,278, with more than 13,000 hours of league time logged with girls across the country. Thirty-six young leaders recently completed a five-day youth referee training in Kampala, earning certification to officiate league matches and building confidence to lead in their communities. The layers of impact this focus has on girl-led leadership cannot be understated.

One coach from Busia explained, “Having female leaders in the league was great for the girls. It was easy for them to ask for support or for pads when they were menstruating because a woman was in charge. The league gave them that opportunity.” Her reflection speaks to the quiet revolutions that happen when representation meets empathy. The girls learn that leadership is not about control, but about creating environments of trust where they and others can thrive.

Those lessons in Uganda and Nicaragua inspired others. SWB Bay Area’s Global Goal Five (GG5) League took root after staff saw what was happening abroad and wanted that for their local players. From there, the spark caught fire. Massachusetts, Maryland, and Colorado launched their own GG5 leagues, each adapted to local realities but carrying the same spirit. Across these hubs, girls mentor younger players, lead opening circles, referee matches, and shape the tone of competition itself. The model spreads through reflection and mirroring: one hub watches another, one girl sees her own potential reflected in another’s courage, and the idea that they, too, can lead catches hold.

One player who began playing in the Bay Area in 2018 now competes on the GG5 Alumni team and serves as a sideline referee. She says that the league gives her “a place to go on Saturdays and see people I love. I’ve graduated now and don’t get to see my old friends. Playing helps me stay in touch with them.” When asked why she started to ref, she smiles a little sheepishly and says, “Some of the younger girls don’t know all the rules. I do, and can help them learn. I speak Spanish so I can explain things to them in a nice way and so they can understand.” What she’s describing is mentorship in motion — leadership that doesn’t assert power but passes it along gently, across language and age.

Another player remembered what it was like before the GG5 League even existed. “I used to hate refs,” she admitted. “They would be these old guys who made everything awkward. And they would get all mad when I didn’t know what a goal kick was, like I was stupid. I like that our refs now care about us and make things more fun.” Her memory captures the shift perfectly. When girls take the whistle, they don’t just change who leads the game — they change how it’s led.

This growth is part of a larger global movement. As journalist and longtime SWB volunteer and Bay Area Advisory member Mike Woitalla observed in Soccer America, women referees are breaking ground on the world’s biggest stages. Officials like Tori Penso, Kathryn Nesbitt, and Brooke Mayo are redefining authority in international tournaments, proving that fairness and leadership know no gender. The girls of SWB belong to that same lineage of change, learning early that power is not something you wait for — it is something you design and then practice.

When girls lead in sport, especially those from newcomer backgrounds, the transformation reaches far beyond the field. A girl who calls a game with confidence learns she can call out injustice in her community. A team that learns to respect one another across languages becomes a model for inclusion that extends into classrooms and neighborhoods. The more girls step into visible leadership, the more communities begin to shift their sense of who can hold authority and how it should look.

Every whistle a girl blows carries that potential. From Kampala to Granada, from Oakland to Baltimore, from Boston to Denver, the sound echoes across borders. It calls us to attention. It reminds us that fairness and leadership belong to everyone. And it signals something powerful taking shape: a generation of girls who are not waiting to be invited into leadership — they are already leading. 

Because when girls hold the whistle, everything changes.