From street soccer in The Gambia to pursuing opportunities in the U.S., Sarjo is determined to see how far the game can take him. Sarjo’s journey began playing street soccer in his village in The Gambia. Before coming to the United States, he played with several local teams, developing his game through the opportunities available to him. After arriving in the U.S., Sarjo joined Seagam FC and continued pursuing the sport that had already become such an important part of his life. Primarily a midfielder, he has continued developing his game while navigating challenges familiar to many young athletes — the cost of playing, access to equipment, and finding opportunities to be seen. But he has kept going. For Sarjo, soccer has become about more than what happens on the field. The game has helped him grow, build confidence, and stay focused on what he wants for his future. His priorities now are to continue developing as a player, complete his education, and pursue opportunities to compete at the highest level possible after high school. His ultimate goal? To become a professional soccer player and earn the opportunity to sign with a professional club.

A dream that began on the dirt fields of The Gambia has evolved into a mission to build pathways for the next generation — and a new chapter in his own journey as a professional coach. From Player to Pathway Builder Long before he became a coach, club leader, or co-founder, Sulayman Ceesay was a young player in The Gambia with dreams of becoming a professional footballer. He grew up playing on dirt fields, developing his game with the same ambition shared by young players around the world: to see how far football could take him. After immigrating to the United States, however, life demanded something different. As a primary provider for family back home, the financial responsibilities of adulthood took priority, and the pursuit of professional soccer had to be put on hold. But Sulayman never left the game. For years, he continued playing throughout Washington's local soccer community. Over time, he began recognizing something bigger than his own playing career: talented players around him were facing many of the same barriers to opportunity and visibility. Rather than simply accepting those limitations, he began building what he wished had existed for him. Through Seagam FC, Sulayman dedicated himself to helping develop a community-based team into a competitive semi-professional program competing in the UPSL — creating an opportunity for players to experience a higher level of competition, development, and exposure. His work eventually expanded beyond one team. As co-founder of Folonko Sports Foundation, Sulayman has helped create pathways for young athletes through accessible programming, player development, mentorship, and opportunities designed to help the next generation see possibilities beyond where they begin. Today, his journey is entering another chapter. After years spent developing players and building opportunities for others, Sulayman is intentionally developing his own professional coaching pathway — expanding his education, experience, credentials, and network with the goal of establishing himself at increasingly higher levels of the game. His playing dream may have taken a different path than he originally imagined. But it never disappeared. It evolved into something bigger: helping create the opportunities he once dreamed of for the players coming behind him.

Loving the Game Should Be Enough Lydia loves sports. She loves the excitement, the competition, and the feeling of being part of something. But Lydia uses a wheelchair, and like many people living with disabilities, finding opportunities to participate isn't always as simple as finding a program and signing up. The barrier isn't always a lack of interest. Sometimes, it's a lack of access. Sometimes, it's a coach who wants to include everyone but has never been given the training or resources to know how. Sometimes, it's a program that wasn't designed with different abilities in mind. And sometimes, people like Lydia are unintentionally left on the sidelines because no one stopped to ask what participation could look like for them. That is the need Folonko Sports Foundation is working to address. We believe building a more accessible sports community means investing in the people who lead it. Coaches and community leaders need practical tools, education, resources, and partnerships that help them confidently welcome people with disabilities, older adults, and individuals with different mobility needs into spaces centered around sports and movement. Because inclusion shouldn't depend on whether a coach happens to have previous experience working with someone with a disability. It should be part of how we prepare coaches to serve their communities. Lydia's story represents something bigger than one person. There are people in every community who love sports, want to move, want to connect, and want to belong—but the opportunities around them were not built with them in mind. Folonko wants to help change that. Not by assuming what someone can or cannot do, but by giving coaches better tools, creating more adaptable opportunities, and building environments where the first question isn't “Can you participate?” It's: “What do you need to participate?” Because when we remove barriers, we don't just create better sports programs. We create communities where more people have a place in the game.

I Know What It Feels Like to Be Priced Out. I didn't start Folonko because I grew up with every opportunity. I started Folonko because I know what it feels like when opportunity is something your family simply cannot afford. I grew up in a single-parent household with eight siblings. There wasn't extra money sitting around for registration fees, uniforms, equipment, travel, private training, or all the other expenses that can come with youth sports. When a family is trying to make sure everyone has what they need, sports can quickly become a luxury. And I understood that. But understanding why you can't have something doesn't make wanting it hurt any less. As I've gotten older, I've realized just how expensive access to sports can be. A registration fee is only the beginning. Then there are uniforms, cleats, transportation, tournament fees, camps, additional training and, eventually, the cost of being seen in the right places by the right people. For some families, those expenses are manageable. For others, one fee can be the difference between their child participating or watching from the sidelines. I was one of those kids who understood the sidelines. That experience stayed with me. Today, I'm a mother. I'm a wife. I'm a caregiver. I'm a community leader. And I've experienced seasons of my adult life where I've had to stretch myself, my time, and my resources further than I thought possible. Those experiences have made me look at families differently. When a parent says something is too expensive, I understand there may be an entire story behind that sentence. When a child doesn't have the newest equipment, I don't see a lack of commitment. When a family can't travel across the state every weekend, I don't believe that should determine how far their child can go. And when someone has talent but doesn't have connections, money, transportation, visibility, or access to the traditional sports system, I don't believe their potential should end there. That is why Folonko means so much to me. Folonko Sports Foundation was built around a belief that comes directly from my own life: Talent exists everywhere. Visibility does not. Neither does access. I can't go back and change what was available to me as a child. But I can help build something different for the children and families coming behind me. I can help create programs where a parent's first thought isn't, “Can we afford this?” I can advocate for resources that put equipment into children's hands. I can create opportunities for athletes who may never have been seen otherwise. I can help coaches reach communities that traditional sports systems have overlooked. And I can make sure families know that their financial circumstances do not determine the value or potential of their child. Folonko isn't just an organization I founded. It's something I needed when I was younger. And every time we remove one more barrier for a family, I know we're building the kind of sports community I wish had existed for mine. Access creates possibility. And sometimes, one opportunity can change the direction of an entire life.

What Happens When the Playing Stops? For so many young athletes, the dream is simple: Make it. Play at the next level. Earn the scholarship. Become a professional. But the reality is that most athletes will eventually play their last competitive game. For Amara, that shouldn't mean sports no longer have a place in her future. She represents something we believe isn't talked about enough with young athletes: there is an entire world of opportunity beyond being the person on the field. Coaches. Athletic directors. Photographers. Social media managers. Broadcasters. Trainers. Event producers. Sports marketers. Agents. Designers. Analysts. Community leaders. The sports industry needs all of them. But young people can't pursue careers they don't know exist. That is another access gap. At Folonko Sports Foundation, we want young people like Amara to experience sports from more than one side. We want them to understand the game, but also understand the industry surrounding it. That could mean learning how to capture a match through photography. Helping create content for a team. Learning what happens behind the scenes at an event. Exploring coaching and leadership. Meeting professionals working in sports. Or discovering a career they didn't even know had a name. Because success in sports should never have only one definition. We should absolutely encourage young athletes to dream about becoming professionals. But we should also show them who owns the team. Who markets it. Who photographs it. Who manages it. Who builds the partnerships. Who organizes the events. Who tells the stories. And who makes the decisions. That's the opportunity we want Amara—and every young person who comes through Folonko—to see. One day, the final whistle will come for every athlete. Our job is to make sure they know it doesn't have to be the end of their story in sports.

He Came for Soccer. He Needed More. James came to play soccer. At least, that's what everyone could see. He wanted to run, compete, improve his game and be part of a team. But like so many young people, what James carried with him didn't disappear when he stepped onto the field. Sometimes a child doesn't need another person telling them how talented they are. They need someone to notice when they're unusually quiet. Someone to ask why they haven't been at practice. Someone who expects them to show up, holds them accountable when they don't, celebrates their progress, and reminds them that they matter beyond what they can do with a ball. James needed more than soccer. And that's where we believe community sports can become something much bigger. At Folonko Sports Foundation, we understand that coaches often become some of the most consistent adults in a young person's life. That relationship carries responsibility. It's why we believe coaches need more than knowledge of the game. They need tools to mentor, communicate, recognize when a young person may need additional support, and connect families with resources when something is bigger than what a coach can solve. We don't expect coaches to be therapists, teachers or parents. We do expect them to care. For James, the field can become a place where he is known by name. Where people notice when he's missing. Where mistakes don't define him. Where discipline comes with encouragement. Where he can learn leadership, responsibility, confidence and what it means to belong to something. Soccer may be what brings a young person through our doors. But sometimes the most important thing we can give them has nothing to do with soccer. It's a mentor. A safe community. Someone who believes in them. And a place where they know they'll be missed when they don't show up. Because we're not just developing players. We're investing in the person wearing the jersey.