Unveiled: Roselis Silva

I Cry. I Get Up. And I Keep Going.

This has been my routine for years after my basketball practice.

Coming from a small and developing country like Venezuela, I do not have the time and luxury to be thinking about anything else but basketball. People have doubted my athletic ability since the very first day I started playing with all my boy cousins. And yet I have always been comfortable with this pressure on my back.

The words of distrust and doubt have never shaken my belief in my skills. Instead, what truly hurt me, for the longest time, was the lack of support from my family. Being the only girl sharing a court with boys who did not care for basketball but soccer, my family has never had the passion for basketball that I have always had.

Traveling to the U.S. did not change their perspectives. It was only when my mother came to watch one of my most important games that she understood. I cried for years because I was not sure of who I was as a basketball player nor my role in my family.

And now I still cry. Because I understand my role as the supporter of my family and the responsibilities that come with this realization. I worry for them constantly, and all I can do is pray and be better on the court.

Every second in practice and on the court is valuable for a player like me. There is no water break or downtime. All I can do and want to do is facilitate and score. Before playing in Europe, I was my own harshest critic. Seeing athletes who had the world’s top resources available to them while I struggled and scrambled for basketball shoes made me feel as if I didn’t belong.

I am a 5’5 guard who can pass, score, and steal just as efficiently as any other player, yet I lacked the confidence that every professional player must possess when facing her opponent. I finally pursued and grasped this unspoken yet firm belief in myself when my team made it to the semifinals in the Queen’s Cup.

It was a Cinderella story for us. We were the underdog who flipped everyone’s expectation and finally proved ourselves to the people who doubted us. Coming from Venezuela did not mean I was any worse than others. My background and heritage only made me tougher and stronger on and off-court. I am now ready for the challenges ahead because I am my own biggest fan and I believe that I can achieve more in my professional career.

There are more tasks and responsibilities for me to fulfill and carry. We, as athletes, should always remember that we are much more than “athletes” who play a sport professionally as we have the influence and resources to spread our positive messages.

Leaving my family who shaped me into the person I am today and saying farewell to my friends who have constantly supported me throughout the years has not been easy. But I am extremely fortunate, grateful, and happy with where I am today. It is time to look beyond myself and to care for others who are in need.

Somewhere in my hometown, I know there is a little girl struggling and wanting to play basketball while everyone says no to her. I know this because I once was that little girl. That little girl now needs inspiration and a role model to guide her through her voyage of chasing a dream.

It is easy for us to simply ramble on about the misery and challenges of being an athlete, yet I want to transform these thoughts and feelings into positivity, words of encouragement, and hopes for a better and brighter future generation.

In order to change your world, I need to better myself.

Roselis Silva is a pro basketball player who has played in her native Venezuela, Paraguay, and Spain. She has been a member of the Venezuelan National Team. She is graduate of Arkansas Tech University.

As told to Wei Lai