From couch surfing to fighting for gold, how Williamson Pohlman is now living in a ‘parallel universe’

In just five years Marissa Williamson Pohlman has gone from sleeping on couches to being our first female Indigenous Olympic boxer, she shares one of the most powerful stories in world sport.

Marissa Williamson Pohlman tells it straight - boxing saved her.

No matter how she fares in the Paris Olympics, it’s doubtful any athlete will come from further back to get there than Australia’s first Indigenous female Olympic boxer, one of the most powerful and inspiring stories in Australian sport.

Her journey, through 16 foster homes and four high schools around Ballarat, Werribee and Lara, left her traumatic life without a rudder or a role model.

Forget the Olympics. For many years her gold medal was finding a spare couch.

Then she stumbled upon sport’s “sweet science’’ and a sympathetic trainer, former army sergeant Kelvin Bryant, who saw her pugilistic potential as the chance to rescue a lost soul.

“Boxing helped to get me off the streets and keep me out of trouble,’’ said the proud Ngarrindi woman who will represent Australia in the 66kg division in Paris.

Marissa Williamson Pohlman has an inspirational story. Picture: Getty Images

“It’s been an uphill battle for a number of years and really the reason I started sports was because my life was not great.

“I could have gone down a different path in life. It would have been easy to do that. I have gone from living on couches five years ago to winning three Australian titles and I am travelling the world and going to the Olympics.

“It’s weird. I feel as if I am living in a parallel universe to where I once was.’’

It’s not as if Olympic selection has plonked her on easy street. She had to give up a full-time job to train and has started a GoFundMe page to help her through.

But nothing or no-one can scare her in Paris. Not after what she’s been through.

“If I fail I will just get up and get on with my life. It’s just a sport - it’s not my lifeline. ‘’

Her success has given her a voice to help others and she uses it with considerable force and frankness.

“I think there were 7500 Aboriginal children out of home care when I was in care at 17.

Marissa Williamson Pohlman booked her ticket to Paris. Picture: Getty Images

“To be honest what I have been through has been a universal experience for most black fellas. I don’t know anyone in my family who has not been homeless or in care .. why, statistically, was I more likely to go to jail than go to grade 12? I am head first. I am headstrong. I am really proud of myself to be this young aboriginal woman representing my country.’’

Marissa’s turnaround would not have been possible without her father figure, Collingwood Boxing Gym trainer and former 45 year Australian army veteran Bryant, who took her on, unperturbed by a call from a senior boxing official saying “good luck with that one.’’

The journey has been all the more satisfying for the potholes and pitfalls which had to be negotiated on the road to Paris and beyond.

Two months after they started working together Bryant received a call to say his protege was in hospital after attempting to end her own life.

He went to the hospital and while many may have been tempted to send her back to the world of foster care he boldly, and shrewdly, urged her to go the other way.

How will she go in Paris?

“I said ‘let’s find a place to live by yourself’’ and we found a studio in Carlton. She lived by herself for 18 months and in that isolation she found time to think. Her biggest growth came through her solitude in that period.

“I sat her down two and a half years ago and said “I can see enough in you to make you a champion’’ and she said “really’’ so basically it has been head down arse up the last couple of years. She’s done really well.

“There were times when I had to kick her out of the gym and say “that’s unacceptable’’ but she kept coming back.

“We set some goals and her major one was to have coffee with me every day which we did and talk about all things including boxing. That is how we became close.’’

Marissa, who now lives with a couple she calls mum and dad and is so appreciative of their efforts she has taken her “mother’s’’ name Pohlman, says of Bryant: “He is my best mate. My coach. My friend. He made room for the trust to be built because he knew I came from a background of trauma. We have developed an unbreakable relationship.’’

They worked together to plane off some rough edges.

Trainer Kelvin Bryant is a father figure to Marissa Williamson Pohlman. Picture: Rob Leeson.

“In her first fight the father of the girl she was fighting kept yelling out and having a go at Marissa. At the end of the second round she just stopped and told him to shut up. She was a bit rough early but her ring etiquette is great now. She stands there and smiles and will complement her opponents. She acts like a real professional.’’

One of her secret salvations came from visiting local libraries and her passion for the printed word has given her an impressive vocabulary and knowledge of the wider world.

As well as working at McDonald’s, in the construction industry and as a bushranger, she’s also worked for the Victorian government helping to administer the national heritage act.

At an Australian Sports Hall of Fame function she was asked to do the Welcome to Country and went on to deliver an address about Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine.

“It was outstanding,’’ Bryant said. “The place fell silent. I was standing next to (marathon great) Robert de Castella who said “who is this girl - I have to meet her.’’

With more than a hint of pride Bryant responded “I train her’’ and every little part of a challenging journey felt worthwhile.

Originally published as From couch surfing to fighting for gold, how Williamson Pohlman is now living in a ‘parallel universe’