“If there is a tiny speck of light on the horizon, just keep walking towards it.”
Those are the words of my beautiful, loving mother. Words that guided me through personal crisis, injuries and severe depression.
Words that motivated me to chase my dreams. Words that inspired me to reach my dreams.
. . .
I’ve had a lot of amazing teachers in my life, but two have been there right from the start and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank them enough.
One was my wise, loving grandmother, Saleemah Afful, who taught me that the best way to connect with people is through compassion and love even though it might require great sacrifice.
The other was my mother, Qanita Tatum, who most everyone knows as “Ummi.’’ She showed me that if I kept walking toward that speck of light and let it reveal itself, it might just be your fondest dream coming true.
I grew up in Racine dreaming, literally, of playing basketball and going to school at Wisconsin. I was 8 when images of the Badgers – their names and uniforms and games – would come to me while I was going to bed. I started to tell my family and friends that I wanted to play for the Badgers at the Kohl Center one day. The fact that I actually made it validates a lot of what I learned from my grandmother and mother.
But their messages had much more to do with my journey than my destination.
They sustained me through two major injuries suffered playing basketball – torn ACLs in both knees – and back problems so limiting that I almost quit sports altogether.
I grew up in Racine dreaming, literally, of playing basketball and going to school at Wisconsin.
. . .
They carried me through a personal crisis – my parents separated when I was 9 – when my inner anger and sadness routinely got the best of me.
They fortified me when I was diagnosed with severe depression – brought on in part by my injuries and unanswered trauma – that required medication for a time.
Lastly, and I think most importantly, they helped an introvert find a voice and a leadership role on a campus where diversity is a topic of discussion every day.
My grandmother and my mom are heroes to me. They’ve given me tough love when I’ve needed it. They’ve made countless sacrifices for me. They’ve always been there to listen and nudge me in the right direction.
“Lead with love,’’ my grandmother would always say.
“Have faith and be patient,’’ my mom would always say.
My opportunity to play college basketball for the Badgers is a direct result of their diligence, confidence and influence. I made the team following an open campus tryout at the beginning of the fall semester. When I got the text message asking if I could come and meet with Coach Greg Gard, I sat down in my apartment – I’d just gotten up and was getting ready to head to class – and cried. When I met with Coach Gard and he told me that I’d made the team, I did all I could do not to cry again in front of him.
For the longest time, I never thought I’d play college basketball. I’d found my niche as a student at Wisconsin. The idea of becoming a student-athlete too seemed like pure fantasy.
For the longest time, I never thought I’d play college basketball. I’d found my niche as a student at Wisconsin. The idea of becoming a student-athlete too seemed like pure fantasy.
I’m majoring in kinesiology with a goal of becoming a physician and someday building a sports training center in my hometown of Racine.
I discovered my academic passion when I was a sophomore at Horlick High School. I enrolled in PEOPLE (Pre-College Enrichment Opportunity Program for Learning Excellence). It’s designed to help under-represented and first-generation college students prepare for college and complete their degrees.
Through my exposure to PEOPLE, I took a neurology class at UW the summer before my junior year, an experience that changed me forever. I found myself fascinated by the complexity of the nervous system, the brain and how they interact with the body. I remember sitting there thinking, “This is me.’’
That same year I was invited to attend the Congress of Future Medical Leaders for a three-day seminar in Boston. It only served to strengthen my belief that healthcare was my calling. I immediately made plans to focus on biology and anatomy. That’s how I found kinesiology and fell in love.
I’ve always loved school and done well in my classes. I was on the honor roll with a 4.0 grade-point average throughout high school. Through hard work and my amazing support system, PEOPLE provided me with an academic scholarship to Wisconsin. It was a direct result of the work ethic that my parents engrained in me.
I attended that life-altering neurology class at UW in serious pain. I’d injured my left knee playing in a summer-league high school basketball game with guys from Horlick, tearing the ACL, MCL and meniscus. I also chipped the kneecap.
My mom knew something was wrong as soon as I limped through the door. I didn’t know if going to Madison for the summer was a good idea because my leg was killing me. In a strong, loving voice, my mom reminded me that becoming a PEOPLE scholar was my best path to college. She handed me an ice bag and walked away.
I wound up having surgery in August after the summer program was done. Before and after the operation my mom would help me massage and ice my knee and make my way around our home. When I would get irritated, she would always say, “Your time will come.’’
My mom has an amazing inner strength. She grew up in Milwaukee in the Muslim faith and was bullied all the time as a child for wearing traditional clothing. Kids would tease her and rip the hijab off her head. She could easily have quit, given the amount of hate she encountered and the trials she had to go through, but she never did. She got good grades in school and wound up enrolling at the University of Arizona, but she had to leave to care for her sick mother before becoming a mom herself to me and my brothers, Ahmad and Imad.
My father, Ahmad Qawi, endured his own set of challenges growing up. He got involved with the wrong crowd and told me once that he nearly lost his life in one incident. He managed to escape the dangerous life and wound up playing football at Illinois State. He rose to become the chief operating officer for the Racine Family YMCA, but while his relentless drive and love of sports was admirable, it came to me a little late.
I started to fall in love with basketball playing at the local YMCA when I was 8. That was right around the time my parents split up. My mom got a job and took care of us kids. My grandmother moved in to help. It was a time where I didn’t understand life.
While my mom worked, my grandmother watched out for us. I was angry at the world and didn’t know where to channel that energy, but she’d settle us all down. I’ve never told her this, but she’s the person who kept me sane during that time.
I found an outlet for that energy in basketball. My grandma never really liked me playing, but she saw how much I loved it and she never stopped supporting me. Basketball gave me a place to be creative, to be free, and provided me an environment to create new relationships. Unfortunately, I had a hard time staying healthy.
After missing my entire junior season at Horlick recuperating from knee surgery, I planned to make the most of my senior year and maybe – just maybe – get a chance to show people that I could play in college. But I developed a pinched sciatic nerve in my lower back and was diagnosed with multiple bulging disks. That not only limited me on the court, it made me think seriously about quitting basketball all together.
The clincher came when I tore the ACL in my right knee playing a pick-up game at the SERF during my freshman year at UW. I thought my playing days were done for sure. I wanted to quit. I couldn’t do it anymore.
My mother had other ideas. She said, “If you’re getting injured all the time, then you’re not taking care of yourself.’’ Neither one of us was happy, but we re-lived the rehab process. “You’re going to heal,’’ she said. “You’re going to come back and do whatever it is you want to.’’
I heard her, but I didn’t listen. I thought the path was closed for sure, but she kept showing me an opening, a speck of light in the distance. I started listening to my mom and began exercising regularly. I researched rehabilitation techniques through Google and health journals. I lifted weights and played pick-up games at the Shell almost every day for two years.
I also expanded my horizons, physically and mentally.
Being on this campus, I thought I was alone as a black male. I was wrong.
The more I thought about it and the more I learned, the more I wanted to do something about it. So I joined the Wisconsin Association of Black Men and recently served as its president.
WABM and Black History Month go hand-in-hand. They’re about enlightenment. They’re about making connections. They’re about shining a light on social justice and racial progress on campus.
There’s definitely a larger community than I first thought when I got to UW and I’ve made a lot of friends as a result. My goal was to connect as many people as possible. Playing a high-profile sport has given me an even bigger platform and I’ve tried to use it to better connect athletics to campus.
The chance to play for the Badgers just fell into my lap. I got an email from Coach Gard inviting me to an open tryout at the Nicholas-Johnson Pavilion. I’m pretty sure I made a good impression on Aleem Ford, Brevin Pritzl and D’Mitrick Trice, three UW upperclassmen on the team who played with me at the Shell. They must have put in a good word.
There were 40 or 50 guys trying out and we all took part in fundamental skill drills before scrimmaging. It might sound cocky, but I thought, “I’ve got this.’’ I knew I had the tools. I also knew this was my big chance and I couldn’t let it slip sway. I had no doubt. It was the most confident I’ve ever been on a basketball court.
A couple days later, I was standing in Gard’s office. I was drenched in sweat, my body was shaking and my brain was going wild. A tiny voice in my head wondered, “What if he tells me I didn’t make it?’’ Gard shook my hand and asked me to play for the Badgers. I couldn’t cry because we were in this professional setting, but I was close.
The tryout changed me in more ways than one. I was diagnosed with severe depression and general anxiety as a sophomore at UW, issues that probably arose from dealing with all my injuries and trauma. I didn’t know how to manage it until this past summer. I finally figured out that I want to live this life to the best of my ability. I was looking at it so negatively. Then something clicked. Life is a beautiful mystery and I want to experience all I can.
Meeting all my new teammates was surreal. They’ve been great to me since Day One. All the coaches have been extremely supportive, giving me tools to be the best that I can be. I’ve played in six games so far, each appearance more wonderful than the last. The whole experience has been unbelievably enjoyable, but also tremendously challenging.
I walk into the Kohl Center every day with a smile on my face.
What’s the lesson in all this? What should you take away from my journey?
Have faith.
Have patience.
Lead with love.
Always strive for your dream, even if it takes years to achieve it.
