I think sport can play a really positive role in young girls'

Hear the voice of Ellyse Perry, who with both wisdom and gentleness declared: “I think sport can play a really positive role in young girls’ lives and be great to see as many of them playing sport as possible.” Do not dismiss these words as mere commentary on games, for in them lies a truth ancient and enduring—that through the discipline of the body, the courage of the spirit is awakened, and through the joy of play, the soul learns freedom.

For sport is no trivial pastime. It is the training ground of resilience, where strength is born from effort, and where unity is forged among those who strive side by side. To the young girls of the world, long told to shrink themselves, to yield, to stay unseen, the field, the court, and the track offer a different song. It is the song of power, of movement, of discovering one’s own force. In the rhythm of running, the leap into the air, the clash of competition, they learn: “I, too, am strong. I, too, may claim my space beneath the sun.”

Consider the story of Wilma Rudolph, the child who was stricken with polio, told she would never walk again. Yet through grit and through the power of sport, she rose not only to walk but to run, and in the Olympic Games of 1960, she became the fastest woman alive, winning three gold medals. Her life was a testament that through discipline, courage, and the flame of competition, one may rise from ashes to glory. For the girls who watched her, she was not merely an athlete—she was a herald that they, too, could conquer the impossible.

Thus Ellyse Perry speaks not only as an athlete but as a seer of possibilities. She knows that positive role does not mean only health of the body, but also the strength of mind and the boldness of spirit. Through sport, young girls learn the art of striving, the dignity of loss, and the triumph of persistence. They learn that greatness is not given but earned, and that in every drop of sweat lies the shaping of character.

And more still: through play and competition, they find community. They learn to labor not only for themselves but for their sisters beside them. They discover that victory is sweetest when shared, and that even in defeat, there is kinship and pride. In this, sport becomes more than physical—it becomes the seedbed of belonging, of resilience, of courage to face the greater battles of life.

The lesson for us, therefore, is clear: encourage the young girls to play. Do not bind them with doubts or silence them with custom. Place in their hands the ball, the bat, the racket. Give them fields to run upon and courts to leap across. Let them test their power, their speed, their endurance—for in doing so, they will not only grow in strength but also discover the unshakable truth of their worth.

Practical action lies before us: parents, teachers, elders, open doors of opportunity. Praise the effort, not just the victory. Provide spaces where girls may thrive in competition without shame. And to the girls themselves: embrace the challenge, chase the ball, run the race, for every step you take is also taken for those who will follow you.

So let it be said, and let it be remembered: sport is not merely a game, but a mirror of the soul’s courage. To see the daughters of the earth running, leaping, striving, is to see the dawn of a brighter age—an age where no child is told she is less, but all are reminded they are capable of greatness. Ellyse Perry’s words are thus both wisdom and prophecy: the more young girls take their place upon the field, the stronger the world shall become.