The Route Changed, But the Purpose Never Did: How Def Familia Began

A lot of people see Def Familia today, but they don’t know where the vision really came from.

More than 25 years ago, I had a plan.

My dream was to make it to the NBA, and I already knew what I wanted to do if that opportunity came. I wanted to use that platform and that money to establish my own business, create opportunities, bring people together, and build something much bigger than myself.

Before that NBA tryout ever happened, I had already played three years of basketball at Gallaudet University.

Eventually, I had to leave because I simply couldn’t afford to continue.

So I went back home and started working at Sam’s Club in Princeton, collecting shopping carts in the parking lot.

At that point, basketball wasn’t even my focus anymore.

I had not touched a basketball in more than three months because I was concentrating on working, catching up financially, and trying to get myself back on my feet.

Then one day, somehow, my former high school coach found out I was no longer at Gallaudet.

He found me right there at Sam’s Club.

I was outside collecting carts when he came up to me and basically said:

“Go pack your basketball stuff.”

I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Where are we going?”

He said:

“NBA tryout at Monmouth University.”

I’m standing there thinking, I can’t just leave work. I haven’t even been playing basketball. I haven’t touched a ball in months.

I told him, “You’re going to have to talk to my supervisor.”

So while I kept collecting carts in the parking lot, he went inside Sam’s Club.

A little while later, I looked up and saw supervisors and coworkers coming outside.

They were excited for me, yelling things like:

“Don’t forget us!”

“Bring us tickets!”

My supervisor approved me to leave.

Just like that, I went from collecting shopping carts in a Sam’s Club parking lot to rushing home to pack my sneakers and a few clothes for the weekend.

I barely had time to process what was happening.

This was an NBA tryout.

An opportunity I never expected to come knocking on my door like that.

We headed to Monmouth University.

My former high school coach took me there, and his presence mattered because I knew communication could become important if coaches approached me.

At one point during the tryout, he stepped away to make phone calls.

I remember begging him to stay.

Something in me kept saying:

You never know who might come talk to me.

Sure enough, while he was gone, two coaches approached me.

They showed interest.

For a moment, it felt like everything I had worked for might finally be happening.

Then they realized I was Deaf.

I was the only Deaf player at the tryout.

And more than 25 years ago, there was nowhere near the level of awareness or understanding of Deaf people and Deaf culture that exists today.

Once those coaches realized I was Deaf and communication became an issue, they turned away.

Just like that.

The opportunity disappeared.

That moment crushed me.

When my former coach came back, I was furious.

I told him:

“I hope that phone call was more important than my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity at an NBA tryout.”

The ride back home was one of the longest rides of my life.

For a long time, I blamed him because I kept wondering what could have happened if he had stayed.

Would he have been able to interpret?

Would those coaches have understood me better?

Would the conversation have gone differently?

Would my life have taken a completely different direction?

I’ll never know.

What I do know is that before all of this happened, I already had a vision.

If I ever made it to the NBA, I wanted to use that opportunity and that money to build something of my own.

So when the NBA dream didn’t happen the way I imagined, the vision didn’t disappear with it.

I simply had to build it another way.

I didn’t have NBA money.

I didn’t have investors.

I didn’t have a major company funding my ideas.

I started building with my own pocket money, my own time, my own ideas, and my own determination.

That journey eventually became part of the foundation of Def Familia.

Because I had to build it myself, I haven’t always been able to move as fast, travel as much, or accomplish everything on the scale I originally imagined.

But one thing nobody can take away from me is this:

I’m still here.

Still building.

Still creating.

Still connecting Deaf and hearing communities.

Still opening doors.

Still investing in people.

Still believing in the vision.

The NBA dream didn’t happen the way I wanted it to.

But the purpose behind that dream never disappeared.

The route changed, but the purpose never did.

That is part of what Def Familia is.

One Vision. One Family. One Movement.

Silence Is The Loudest Sound.