Jason Harper, Director, Rancho Cordova Athletic Association

Sometimes you meet someone who quietly rearranges your perspective.

I thought I was conducting another interview for RCAA’s Summer Apprentice Program. Our Director of Cricket, Vandna, had asked if I would meet a young man.

“Jason, there’s a U19 player here who plays on the U.S. National Team. He wants to help.”

Simple enough. I walked over, introduced myself, and asked the same question I ask every student.

"Tell me about yourself."

I had no idea where that answer would take me.

His name is Muzi. His father worked for the U.S. Embassy in Afghanistan.

In August of 2021, as Kabul fell during America's withdrawal, his family was told to stay inside their apartment. For twenty-eight days they waited.

Then, in the middle of the night, a van arrived. The family climbed aboard. The van became a bus. The bus became the airport. Under the cover of darkness, they boarded a military cargo aircraft.

Muzi was fourteen years old. He remembers looking through the small window as the plane slowly taxied away from Kabul International Airport. Everything he owned fit in his hands.

Many of us watched those evacuation flights on television. We also watched heartbreaking images of desperate people clinging to departing aircraft. Later, after arriving safely in America, Muzi saw those same videos.

“They were my countrymen,” he quietly told me.

His journey stretched from Kabul to Qatar. Qatar to Washington, D.C. Then Virginia. Chicago. Oregon. Finally... Rancho Cordova.

Imagine being fourteen years old. Not speaking a single word of English. Being enrolled immediately into an American high school. Trying to navigate hallways where every conversation sounded foreign. Unable to eat most school lunches because your family's faith requires Halal food. Finding comfort only among a handful of fellow Afghan students.

His family of twelve shares a two-bedroom apartment. Rent is $1,600. Car insurance approaches $700. Nine siblings.

Youth sports? Not even a consideration. And yet, throughout our conversation, Muzi never once complained. Not once.

Instead, he smiled and simply said, “I am just so thankful to be here.”

Perspective has a funny way of showing up.

Sometimes it arrives through a championship. Sometimes through a trophy. Sometimes through a fourteen-year-old refugee who reminds you that gratitude is stronger than circumstance.

Then came Independence Day. For two straight days during Rancho Cordova’s America 250 celebration, Muzi volunteered alongside our RCAA team.

In his hands were two flyers. One written in Pashto. One written in Dari. From across the park, he would notice an Afghan family. He would smile. Walk over. And begin speaking in their own language. You could almost watch their shoulders relax. In an unfamiliar country, at a community celebration, someone was speaking the language of home.

He wasn't simply handing out flyers. He was extending an invitation. Not just to play a sport. But to belong.

To discover teammates. To build friendships. To become part of a community that now calls them neighbors.

Standing there, I realized something.

For many of us, youth sports are another activity on the calendar. For families starting over in a new country, they can become the front porch into an entire community.

That moment has stayed with me. It also helped shape something we've been quietly building at RCAA.

We're calling it The Open Field Project.

The mission is simple. Every child deserves a place to play. Sometimes a family doesn't need charity. They simply need an open door.

Sometimes that looks like a pair of cleats. Sometimes it's a registration scholarship. Sometimes it's equipment. Sometimes it's transportation. Sometimes it's someone who can explain the process in their own language.

The Open Field Project exists to remove the barriers that keep children from experiencing youth sports—not just for Afghan families, but for every family beginning a new chapter in Rancho Cordova. Whether they've arrived from Afghanistan, Ukraine, Mexico, India, or simply across town after difficult circumstances, every child deserves the opportunity to wear a jersey, hear their name cheered from the sidelines, and know they belong.

Over the coming weeks, you'll begin to see QR codes linked to The Open Field Project. Some gifts will be five dollars. Some will be fifty. Some may sponsor an entire season.

Every dollar has the same purpose: Opening one more field. Creating one more teammate. Welcoming one more family.

Sports have always been about more than games. They teach resilience. Character. Responsibility.

But perhaps their greatest gift is something even simpler.

Belonging.

The irony isn't lost on me.

A boy who left Afghanistan on a military cargo plane at fourteen...Spent America's 250th birthday walking through an American park, proudly inviting other Afghan families into their new community. Not because someone asked him to. Because someone once opened a field for him. Now he's opening it for someone else.

Maybe that's one of the greatest expressions of America. Not simply that people arrive here. But that, given the opportunity, they begin helping the next family arrive as well.

An open field has no preferred language. No preferred income. No preferred nationality. It simply waits for children to step onto the grass.

And once the game begins...

They're just teammates.