One Zoom Call. One Tinted Visor. One Ticket Home

Tuva Hammarlund chose a university she had never visited.

Josiah Winans returned to football after two season-ending injuries, unsure whether anyone would see beyond his visual impairment.

Henry Ngang arrived on campus five days after ACL surgery, wearing a brace, walking on crutches and wondering what his future would hold.

Not exactly the easiest first-day-of-college stories. But easy was never really the point.

For these three student-athletes, choosing an NAIA school meant taking a chance on a coach, a team, a community and, ultimately, themselves.

From Sweden to Sioux City

Tuva grew up in Stockholm, Sweden, where athletics and education rarely share the same schedule. Continuing her education likely meant giving up competitive soccer.

Then, during an ordinary walk from the cafeteria to her locker, a recruiting representative stopped her and asked one life-changing question:

Had she ever considered playing college soccer in the United States?

Soon, Tuva was talking with coaches from Morningside University. She had never visited Iowa. She had never even been to the United States. Still, something clicked.

“I can’t put my finger on it,” she said. “But I knew it was a place where I could see myself living.”

Her first introduction to Iowa included an empty campus, twice-a-day practices and a crash course in heat and humidity. Welcome to America, and preseason.

Yet somewhere between soccer practices, classes, shared meals and friendships with students from around the world, Sioux City stopped feeling like a temporary destination.

“This is actually my life now,” she remembers realizing.

Now entering her senior year, Tuva coaches a local girls’ soccer team, supports new international students and calls coming to Morningside the best decision she has ever made.

The Visor That Meant Everything

Josiah’s road to Tabor College (Kan.) was anything but straightforward.

After multiple season-ending injuries and two years away from football, he signed with Tabor before visiting campus. The opportunity came with a major bonus: his younger brother had also been recruited. Today, there are three Winans brothers on the team. Yes, three. Family dinner probably includes a full depth chart.

But Josiah’s biggest obstacle was not returning from injury. It was finding a program willing to support him. Josiah has ocular albinism, which causes extreme sensitivity to light. To play football safely, he needs a dark-tinted visor, equipment normally prohibited by rule. At previous schools, he often felt defined by his disability. At Tabor, his coaches and athletics staff helped him submit an appeal to the NAIA.

When Coach Gardner called Josiah into his office to tell him the visor had been approved, the coach was genuinely excited. Before games, he even made time to personally explain the accommodation to officials.

“That’s how you know,” Josiah said. “When your head coach takes time out of a busy pregame warmup to talk to the refs for you.”

Since arriving at Tabor, Josiah has become a Scholar-Athlete, earned highest honors on the Dean’s List and taken on leadership roles across campus. He leads the football Bible study, serves as president of both DECA and the Campus Ministry Council, and stepped into a team captain role.

Tabor did more than give him another chance to play. It gave him opportunities to lead.

A Ticket Home

Henry had already traveled from South Africa to pursue his education and soccer dreams in the United States. Then came a torn ACL. Bushnell University (Ore.) continued recruiting him anyway.

Coach Joao and Coach J Rea made it clear that Henry still had a place on the team, even if his first season would be spent rehabilitating instead of competing.

Henry arrived five days after reconstructive surgery. He needed help showering, walking, and navigating daily life. For an athlete accustomed to independence, accepting help was not easy. But people kept showing up.

Teammates slowed their pace to walk beside him. Trainers checked on more than his knee. Students and faculty took a genuine interest in how he was doing.

Then came the moment Henry will never forget.

His friend Trison Hedges told him that students and faculty had arranged a flight so Henry could return home and see his family in South Africa.

He initially wanted to refuse. The gesture felt too big. But he accepted.

“I still remember my mother’s tears,” Henry said.

That flight helped Henry understand that he had chosen the right school. His injury had temporarily taken soccer away, but the people around him helped him discover that his identity and value had never been limited to his performance.

More Than a Campus

Tuva crossed an ocean without seeing her destination.

Josiah returned to a sport that had already knocked him down more than once.

Henry arrived unable to play the game that had shaped much of his life.

Each came searching for an opportunity. What they found was something more.

Coaches who advocated. Teammates who stayed close. Professors who made adjustments. Communities that showed up.

A university can be a collection of classrooms, residence halls, and athletic fields.

Or it can become home.

Sometimes all it takes is one Zoom call. One approved visor. One plane ticket.

Because when coaches advocate, teammates show up and communities care for the whole person, not just the athlete.

That is more than college sports. That is The Right Way To Play®.