How sport becomes a lived way to learn regulation, reflection, and accountability.
Safe, inclusive play allows vulnerability without shame.
Sport as a facilitator for agency, leadership, and self-worth extending into everyday life.
On a dusty football ground or a flying disc arcing across the sky, something more than a game is unfolding. For organisations working at the intersection of sport and youth development, play has become a way to talk about emotions without naming them outright—to practise disagreement without escalation, to fail publicly without shame, and to belong without performance.
At One-All, which works with young people through ultimate frisbee, the sport’s structure itself creates the conditions for emotional learning. Mixed-gender teams and non-contact rules immediately change how aggression, confidence, and failure are expressed. There are no referees; players govern themselves.
“Ultimate frisbee is special because boys and girls play together on the same team, and there are no external referees telling you what is right or wrong. The self-refereeing aspect of the game helps children take ownership of their actions as well as emotions they show on and off the field,” says Varsha Yeshwant Kumar, co-founder of One-All. “This requires a journey of self- reflection and curiosity to discover why they felt that way about certain actions.”
That reflection doesn’t stay abstract. After matches, teams come together in what One-All calls Spirit Circles - shared spaces where both teams discuss positives and areas for improvement. “Sharing these experiences in the Spirit Circles enables a sense of belonging within the team. So, outcomes of games help people to come together. This is especially valuable when they lose -they need extra support to build an emotionally safe place where they can show their vulnerability.”
Encouragement, too, is made visible and valuable. “In our sessions, motivating your team is valued. Giving energy on the field and on the sidelines visibly uplifts the team,” Kumar explains. These moments are then consciously connected back to life beyond sport. “We connect these experiences to life off the field and ask children how we can use these learnings to better support each other in life.”
Accountability in ultimate frisbee is not theoretical - it is procedural. When a foul is called, play stops. The two players involved have 45 seconds to resolve it between themselves. “They both express their opinion in turns… If they don’t agree—the player on whom the foul was called can ‘contest’ the call, and the frisbee goes back to the last uncontested pass.”
The lesson, Kumar says, is subtle but profound. “This practically means that they have two different ways of seeing what happened… either could be right, agree to disagree and re-do that pass. This helps adolescents understand that there are different perspectives to life and there is no one absolute truth in any situation.” Calm communication and respectful body language are not optional; they are peer-reviewed through Spirit of the Game scores given at the end of matches. “This helps people realise the importance of accountability, not just to others, but to the self as well,” explains Kumar.
Despite its gentler framing, ultimate frisbee is not anti-competition. “Ultimate Frisbee is highly competitive, in the best possible way,” Kumar says, pointing to Rule 1.4 of the sport. “‘Highly competitive play is encouraged, but should never sacrifice the mutual respect between players, adherence to the agreed-upon rules of the game, player safety or the basic joy of play. This is one of the most elegant ways of describing how life can be lived,” she says.
When pressure or disagreement surfaces, it is held collectively. “Spirit Circles are the key to building that support system for mental wellbeing—where even when pressure is faced or disagreements ripe, it is talked about—tears are shed—and then we move on.”
A similar philosophy underpins the work of Enabling Leadership, which uses football as a tool for leadership and emotional development in schools. For Nishanth Puzhunkara, Curriculum and Content Lead, sport begins with a simple need. “Students sit in their classrooms all day and are looking for an outlet to spend their energy on. Football helps them with that.”
But the sessions are carefully designed to go beyond release. “Children should be given opportunities to express themselves without fear of making mistakes, and our sessions are designed to give students that opportunity,” he explains. Risk-taking, speaking up, and rotating leadership roles are built into play, along with individual attention—something many students rarely receive in classrooms.
“Confidence is not something a child develops overnight,” Puzhunkara says. “As they develop a particular football skill, speak in front of their teammates, play matches in a pressure situation, it gradually leads to them becoming more confident and in control of their emotions.” The emphasis is clear: “Purpose of our program is not to create top footballers but to get students to have fun and develop certain skills and leadership qualities.”
Reflection is not an add-on; it is the method. “We consider reflection, emotional awareness and coping skills as a part of the leadership outcomes,” he explains. Activities are intentionally designed to surface conflict or tension. “We then have reflection questions to make students think about what they experienced. We call this experiential learning.” This is reinforced throughout the session and anchored by a longer debrief where students articulate what they felt and learned.
If One-All and Enabling Leadership work largely within schools and structured programs, Parcham Collective’s work unfolds in public—on open grounds where visibility itself becomes part of the challenge.
“Participation in football has had a transformative impact on the girls we work with,” says Sabah Khan, co-founder of Parcham. “Playing on an open ground, aware of strangers watching, builds a kind of confidence that often goes far beyond what conventional life-skills workshops conducted within organisations are able to achieve.”
Many girls begin cautiously. “In the initial days of play, they move with stiff, guarded bodies, conscious and often uncomfortable about running freely or drawing attention to themselves.” Over time, that self-surveillance loosens. “That consciousness of the body is lost, and all that matters is playing to win,” Khan observes.
The shift is not without contradiction. Concerns about skin colour and appearance persist. “So we have had parents investing in sunscreen for the girls, girls themselves wear arm sleeves to prevent tanning. But it has yet to stop them from playing.”
What has changed most dramatically is family perception. “In Parcham’s early days, some girls hid the fact that they played football… Today, parents themselves come to register their daughters for training.” Families increasingly recognise changes beyond the field—discipline, focus, seriousness about studies.
For the girls, Parcham becomes a social anchor. “Many tell us they have found friends at Parcham whom they trust to stand by them.” That sense of belonging is intentionally nurtured through workshops on identity and choice, and through something rarer in urban life: a physical space to simply exist together. “If you walk into Parcham, there are always young people around… These friendships are important in today's time of increasing alienation, as the youth just have followers on Instagram rather than friends.”
Football also opens doors outward. Girls can move into digital literacy and citizenship programs, engage with local governance, and see tangible outcomes from civic action. “Successfully resolving local concerns brings them public recognition and strengthens their sense of agency… Such positive acknowledgement significantly contributes to the girls’ sense of self-worth and emotional well-being.”
Even those who do not join additional programs are encouraged to give back - volunteering, reading to children, carrying books into neighbourhoods. And perhaps most tellingly, aspiration itself shifts. “The girls in the Parcham program all aspire to have careers before marriage. Marriage is now an option, not a destiny because you are a girl,” Khan signs off.
Across these diverse contexts—ultimate frisbee, school football, community grounds—the throughline is not elite performance or medals. It is the slow, repetitive practice of showing up, disagreeing safely, being seen, and belonging. In a time when young people are increasingly spoken about through the language of crisis, these organisations suggest something quieter and more durable: that mental health can also be learned, embodied, and rehearsed - one game at a time.
