young girl in her water polo suit and parka

Lessons from the Pool Deck

What water polo is teaching my daughter about sisterhood, access, and community power.

Guest Post – Gabriela Robles, Chief Executive

This spring sports season, I’ve been watching my daughter, Giuliana, grow in a way that reminds me of why access matters so much for young people, especially young girls.

She is part of the first all-girls’ water polo team her club has fielded in years. Historically co-ed, the club now fields a team for the 10-and-under girls this year. And what I’m seeing is so much bigger than a sport.

They are gelling as a team. They know their roles and take care of each other. They take turns putting on each other’s caps, which, if you know water polo, is an act of love and patience. They bring snacks for each other and hug when they see each other. They are learning to compete and to love each other.

I once asked Giuliana whether being the goalie was stressful, and she said it wasn’t because she feels connected to the team and knows they have each other’s backs. This is what I’ve always wanted for my kids – to be surrounded by people who are just as committed, who know how to love one another, and who help them feel confident that someone has their back.

As a mom, I’m beginning to see team and community building happening at the same time. Mothers, fathers, and caregivers show up and sit together for hours. We cheer for every girl, not just our own.

I love that at such a young age, Giuliana is learning the power of sisterhood. She is learning that she can be strong, athletic, strategic, emotional, loving, and joyful all at once. She is learning that being powerful does not mean being alone.

Giuliana does not have a sister, and her only female cousin is much older. To have this kind of sisterhood at such a young age feels like a gift. These girls are learning life lessons in real time. You work hard, surround yourself with good people, and look after each other. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team. It’s about community. It’s about each person’s gifts.

A few weekends ago, her team lost both games. But there was no finger-pointing. The only question was, “What did we learn from this?” Then they brought those lessons forward.

The next day, they won both games.

In between, the girls and their families went to a nearby Japanese bakery. We were all so happy. And I found myself thinking that this is what community can look like when we have access to spaces where we are seen, supported, and challenged.

Access is not just about whether a program exists. It is about whether our children can fully belong once they get there.

For girls, especially girls of color, access to sports and team-based activities can shape so much more than physical health. It builds confidence, creates friendships, teaches leadership, and gives them a place to practice courage, strategy, failure, joy, and resilience.

It also gives them mirrors.

Recently, Giuliana began learning about Brenda Villa, the first Latina water polo player to win multiple Olympic medals. Brenda grew up in Commerce, near East LA, where an aquatic center now bears her name. For her, learning about a Mexican-American woman who excelled in water polo, became an Olympic medalist, and now coaches at Stanford gives her a broader sense of what is possible. It helps Giuliana see that she belongs in the pool, in leadership, and in any space where she is willing to work hard and bring her whole self.

This is why access matters. When young girls have access to sports, mentors, role models, safe spaces, and community, they are not just learning to play a game. They are learning to take up space, to lose without shame, and to win with humility.

Their parents and caregivers are learning too.

We are learning to build community around our children. We are learning to show up consistently and to cheer for every girl in the pool. We are learning that sometimes the most meaningful community building happens on pool deck folding chairs, in conversations between parents, over shared snacks, and in the simple joy of watching our girls become more themselves.

No matter how many seasons she plays, this experience reminds me that community is built in small, ordinary, loving ways when we create spaces where our children can feel safe enough to grow and strong enough to lead.

And that is the kind of access every young person deserves.