Naomi Girma isn’t just making her Women’s World Cup debut for the United States this summer – she’s inspiring first-generation Americans across the country.
The daughter of Ethiopian immigrants, Girma has developed into one of the world’s best women’s soccer players.
The 23-year-old California native was the No. 1 overall pick in the 2022 NWSL Draft, joining the San Diego Wave. That was after three seasons at Stanford, where she won the Women’s College Cup in 2019 and graduated with a symbolic systems degree in 2022.
In her debut professional season, Girma was named NWSL Rookie of the Year and Defender of the Year. Last month, she signed a new contract extension to remain in San Diego through 2026.
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While all the accolades and accomplishments are impressive, there’s even more to Girma’s story that most fans don’t know.
On the latest episode of NBC and Telemundo’s “My New Favorite Futbolista” podcast, Girma shared the incredible journey she’s been on to get to this point.
Building a new life in the Bay Area
Girma’s parents came to the U.S. from Ethiopia for vastly different reasons.
As Girma explained, her mother came for school, while her father fled his home country in the midst of a civil war.
“He was fighting against this, like a dictatorship,” Girma explained. “And him, and like the younger generation, that was kind of like not putting up with it. And they were fighting and had to pretty much flee the country.”
The two met in California’s Bay Area and started a family, first becoming parents at 22 years old when they had Naomi’s brother, Nathaniel.
From a young age, Girma’s love for soccer quickly developed. Her father started a soccer club for Ethiopian kids in the community of San Jose, which sparked her passion.
“It was just like the Ethiopians in the Bay,” she explained. “We would get together and we'd play soccer and I think just them creating that environment for me and making it such a fun and safe space for me to just like, fall in love with soccer. I always say it was like the most low pressure environment you could imagine.”
The challenges of being a first-gen American
With two immigrants as parents, Girma is considered a first-generation American – she was part of the first generation of her family to be born in the U.S.
This designation might seem unimportant to traditional American families, but the role is crucial in families like Girma’s. Between the language barrier, and then simpler things like enrolling in school or signing up for club soccer, parents who didn’t grow up in the country can have a tough time figuring it all out.
Girma’s mother, Seble Demissie, said that their neighborhood had playdates for all the local kids. While Girma and the other children played, she would exchange information about school and extracurricular activities with the other parents.
As Girma developed her soccer skills, one of the major difficulties was just being able to attend every training session.
“One of the biggest challenges, I would say, was (getting) rides to training, especially as it went from like two days a week to three days a week,” she said. “I was getting rides from anyone who could take me. I had like one of my really close friends, her mom would come get me from my school and then go get her daughter and then get someone else and then we would go.”
While Girma got help from different families of her teammates, her soccer career nearly ended prematurely simply because of her impressive skills.
“(My mother) told me she went to a meeting,” Girma said. “They wanted to move me up to the top team. And we didn't know the families on the top team yet because I'd been playing on whatever team I joined with my friend. She was like, ‘I don't think Naomi can join. I just can't get her to practice.’ And you have to be at practice to play, you know?
“And they were like, ‘No, that's not a reason for her to not keep playing or not to be on the team’ and, kind of just saying, ‘We're going to figure it out, don't worry.’ And yeah, I just think it's really cool that multiple families who just, out of the kindness of their heart, would swing by my house or swing by my school and get me. And I'm so thankful because I would have maybe had to stop playing because I couldn't drive myself.”
Giving back to the next generation of first-gens
Naomi was fortunate to have her older brother, Nathaniel, to help learn how to be a first-gen. But not all children have that type of luck, and she recognizes that.
“I think my message to first generation kids would be, ask for help, don't be afraid to ask,” she said. “I learned that from my mom. She's always like, ‘I would just ask, it's fine.’ And I was like, ‘Oh, no it's embarrassing.’ And she (says), ‘No, just ask. People are more likely to help than turn you down or make you feel bad about it.’ So, that would be my biggest piece of advice.”
Beyond just great advice, Girma is putting her words into action. She has partnered with multiple organizations – including Common Goal and United Women of East Africa – to help children of immigrants in the U.S.
Not only do those groups help children answer questions they have, but they also help with mental health – an important cause for Girma.
“The reason I was really passionate about (those causes) is because my best friend Katie Meyer passed away from suicide,” she said. “So, I think, in her honor, just like starting something that she would be proud of and I know can help a lot of kids, especially in marginalized communities where mental health isn't something that's like talked about.
“And I think that was one of the things that drew me to the United Women of East Africa, actually. So, they work with first-generation kids in San Diego, and they do a lot of things that I felt like could have been helpful for me when I was a kid. Some of that is resources as far as school, health, well-being, but also one thing that they prioritize is mental health. And for young girls, I think growing up in like African communities, it's not something that you talk about. And I think it's starting to become less taboo in American culture. But I don't think it's changing, necessarily, in those cultures.”
Proudly sharing her culture with the world
Ethiopian culture has always been important to Girma, but especially as she’s gotten older.
While at Stanford, her parents hosted Thanksgiving dinner at their nearby house for players who couldn’t get home for the holiday. While the family offered traditional American food for everyone, Ethiopian food was more popular.
“(My mom) made the biggest spread of classic American Thanksgiving food so that everyone felt like they were (home),” Girma said. “I was like, ‘I've never seen this before’ … but we had like 15 girls on the team over. So you wanted everyone to feel like they were at home for Thanksgiving – and everyone ended up just trying the Ethiopian food and eating it and the other food really wasn't touched, so that was funny.”
The culture is important to Girma now, but it wasn’t always that way.
“As a kid, you don't always see how cool it is,” she said. “It’s kind of like this other thing that you kind of have to balance. But I think as we've gotten older, we've realized it is a blessing and it's really cool to have like this other culture and these other experiences that you can share.”
Now, she’ll be able to display her culture on the biggest stage of women’s soccer. Girma is the first player of Ethiopian descent in the NWSL and on the U.S. women’s national team.
“I hope it makes them proud, just for the little girls,” she said. “I hope they feel like they can do the same thing. I think it can be hard to see your family sacrificing so much to come to the U.S. and then also be like, ‘I want to do this thing. I want to play competitively.’ It does take over your life in a way – it's your parents sacrificing a lot every weekend. I hope there are kids who are inspired to kind of bet on themselves and follow their passion.”
