9 April 2026
There was a time in many villages of Rajasthan when even sports were not equal. For many years, we have seen that even sports are not free from caste. It raises an important question , why do we mostly see players from dominant castes in elite Indian sports?
One of the biggest reasons is access. an open ground where children gathered, laughter echoed, and games unfolded. But beneath that surface, there were invisible boundaries, shaped not by the game, but by society.
When the OSCAR Foundation started its Rajasthan programme, it became evident that even sports carried the weight of caste. At the start, children from dominant castes did not come to play football. At the same time, when we look at elite Indian sports, we often see the dominance of certain social groups. The reason lies in access. Some children grow up with the freedom to play, freely, confidently, and without restriction. The ground feels like it belongs to them, not by rule but by social acceptance. Their presence is natural and unquestioned.
For children from marginalised castes, the experience has been very different. Many stood at the edges, watching, waiting, and hoping. Sometimes they were allowed to play, but only after others had finished. Sometimes they were asked to leave. Often, they chose to walk away on their own, moving towards smaller and less visible spaces to create their own version of a playground. They played, but not equally. They participated, but not fully. They existed, but never at the center. This was never just about sports; it reflected a deeper social structure that defined who belonged, who was visible, and who remained on the margins.
If caste created one layer of exclusion, gender created another. For girls, the playground was almost non-existent. Social norms, cultural expectations, and family restrictions kept them away from sports. Running freely, playing football, or simply being part of a group activity was often seen as inappropriate. Their world was confined, not by physical walls, but by invisible expectations. While boys negotiated their space within the playground, girls were often denied entry altogether.
When the OSCAR Foundation programme began in these communities, change did not come easily. The same social barriers continued to exist on the field. Participation was limited, children from marginalised communities were hesitant, dominant caste children were not actively involved, and girls were almost entirely absent. The idea of equality on the field was new and unfamiliar, and like any social change, it required time and persistence.
A significant turning point came during the early days of the Young Leader training programme, when only three girls showed up. Just three. Even bringing those three girls into the space required effort—not only convincing them, but also their families, challenging long-held beliefs, and creating a sense of safety. Recognising the resistance within the community, the team took a deeply personal step. They began with their own families, encouraging sisters, relatives, and girls from within their immediate circles to join. This became the first layer of trust: a visible, relatable example that stepping onto the field was safe, acceptable, and meaningful.
That small step sparked a larger transformation.
As the community began to see familiar faces on the field, hesitation slowly gave way to acceptance. What started with just three girls grew into something far bigger, a shift where the playground evolved into a space of inclusion, dignity, and equality.
Today, nearly 40% of participants in OSCAR Foundation’s Rajasthan programme are girls, with children from all castes and communities playing together, side by side.