Then there’s sexism. Earlier this year, a survey conducted involving women working in football found more than two-thirds had experienced some form of sexual discrimination. But Blatter insists his organization promotes the careers of women. After all, there are now three women on FIFA’s executive committee. A committee of 28, by the way.
Eva Carneiro, Chelsea’s club doctor, believes women are being discouraged from taking up leadership roles in their chosen professions. A glance around club boardrooms, a look at coaching staffs, a listen to commentary of a match, a scan of bylines — all will reveal that women aren’t adequately represented in soccer.
But it’s not just the boardrooms that are holding women back. Fans, too, shape the sport. It’s tough to watch a Chelsea match without being subjected to men objectifying Dr. Carneiro each and every time the camera sweeps past her. Laura Williamson, football writer at the Daily Mail, receives so much abuse regarding her stories that the website has to filter the misogynistic vitriol. With such abuse so common, why would women want to pursue such careers?
This isn’t just limited to public figures. It’s happening in bars, on Twitter, in forums, in the stands. As long as women are being told they don’t understand the game, that they aren’t capable of appreciating a player for more than his looks, or that their primary role in soccer is to be the one serving food and drinks, they’ll never to be able to advance to fill greater roles in management, medicine or media.
I’m a woman; I’m interested in and write about soccer, and so I face this sort of discrimination every day. On social media, in critiques of my writing, when out watching a game in public. And I’m not alone. Nearly every female fan I’ve spoken with has a similar tale. We’ve been bullied. We’ve been the brunt of (bad) jokes. We’ve had our opinions ridiculed and dismissed.
Based on one single, solitary criteria: our gender.
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