At just 15 years old, Aman Dosanj made history as the first-ever South Asian footballer to represent England at any level, breaking barriers for both communities that belong to the South Asian diaspora and women on the international stage. A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of speaking with Aman about her journey—one that inspired this article.
Her journey:
Like every female footballer during that time, Dosanj pursued her passion for the game without being paid, juggling school with her commitment to football. She began her journey at Southampton Saints under the guidance of coach Sue Buckett, who recognised her talent and one day assured her mother that she had the potential to play for England. That single conversation was enough to win her parents’ support, and from then on, they drove her up and down the country for games. She later earned a spot at Arsenal Ladies before securing a scholarship at Lee University. But just as her promising goalkeeping career was taking off, a serious knee injury brought it to an abrupt end.
Throughout her footballing career, Dosanj emphasised the unwavering support of her family, who stood by her at every stage. This challenged the widespread myth that South Asian families prioritise education over sport. Football leaders often use this stereotype to justify the lack of South Asian representation in the game, shifting the blame onto communities while failing to take accountability for the sport’s systemic lack of inclusivity.
The release of Bend It Like Beckham in 2002 marked a turning point, sparking conversations about the microaggressions and barriers faced by marginalised communities in the wake of post-war migration. While Aman remained steadfast in refusing to let external voices dictate her path, she often felt the relentless pressure to prove herself. The film’s success suddenly made her story newsworthy, with The Telegraph running the headline: “She bends it like Beckham and saves it like Seaman.” For Dosanj, it was a rare moment of recognition—tangible proof that, as the child of immigrants, she had defied the odds.
The illusion of progress:
With the Lionesses’ recent success bringing women’s football into the spotlight, there is a growing desire to progress the game including making the game more inclusive. But this raises an important question: Are institutions truly doing enough to ensure lasting, meaningful progress? What does it mean to inspire and foster an inclusive environment for players of colour to feel included and accepted?
Despite her historic achievement, Dosanj’s milestone barely seemed to register. Decades later, the same conversations about representation in football continue.
“We keep on going back, but there isn’t really any progress,” she reflects. “We’ve already ticked those boxes, yet nothing seems to have changed.”
The lack of archives and records on women’s football has left us in a frustrating cycle, constantly trying to break barriers that have already been broken and have erased monumental stories of trailblazers like Aman Dosanj.
Reviving her legacy and keeping her story alive is crucial – honouring her contribution and inspiring the next generation, showing thousands of South Asian girls that their dreams are achievable.
However, the most vital takeaway should be realising that true progress in football is not just about increasing numbers and meeting quotas; it’s about creating an environment where players from all backgrounds feel seen, valued and supported.
A key example of this is that during the Islamic holy month of Ramadan, Birmingham City’s Layla Banaras has created nutritional guides for athletes to ensure they can balance their faith and their fitness. Initiatives like this are steps in the right direction, where there is a clear acknowledgement and accommodation of diverse backgrounds, highlighting that real change requires a systematic shift in how clubs and organisations address inclusion. Only then can we move beyond ‘ticking boxes’ and ensure that the barriers Aman broke down are not rebuilt for the next generation.
