As I’ve walked onto a football field, people have made assumptions about where I come from.

“Tevaughn’s from Toronto. His mom and dad raised him in a big house with endless opportunity and that’s how he got here.”

“He thinks he deserves something being from the big city.”

“He’s had it all.”

They just didn’t know.

Growing up in the neighbourhood of Scarborough, I was raised in the projects. “Metro Housing” was where low-income families went to live. There, my mom raised four kids by herself.

Often, there were shootings outside of my window and crackheads walking the street. Police cruisers patrolled the neighbourhood every day. And when the police did come around, they’d harass you. 

I was walking home one day and a few officers stopped me in a staircase. They asked me for some identification, needing to see “proof of residency.” I was a child. I didn’t even have a library card.

I didn’t know what “identification” was.

This was a normal part of everyday life.

But there were some of us, not a lot of us, but certain kids in Scarborough who dreamt of something different.

It’s important to mention, though, that wanting to play sports in my neighbourhood wasn’t easy. A lot of folks couldn’t afford to play. That is, they couldn’t afford to leave and go to practice. They were stuck. And over time, being stuck in this neighbourhood becomes as good as it is ever going to get. So what’s the point of trying to get out?

Seeing so many lives go down that hill, I didn’t want to be a part of that. I knew that sport was my only real escape and I had to do whatever it took to make it a reality.

When I left Scarborough for the University of Regina, I just wanted to see where life would take me. I was young and going to a new city thousands of kilometres from home. I wasn’t looking for a big city and Regina never raised any red flags for me as a dangerous place to live. It wasn’t as congested as Toronto. It was quieter and I liked that. I wasn’t here to go play professional football. I just wanted to play, period. I didn’t think further ahead than that.

In Regina, there weren’t many people that looked like me. There wasn’t a significant Black culture scene in Regina. It’s a predominately white city. And people looked at me differently.

Coming from Scarborough, as I mentioned earlier, many folks thought I had come from a place of privilege. I was a “Toronto kid.”

That first year in the Regina Rams program was eye opening.

I’m skinny, 170 pounds, and I’m walking into a system where everyone already knows the system. They know each other, have girlfriends, and an entire ecosystem of people in their corner. I was just trying to make the team.

I didn’t start that first year, sometimes didn’t even travel. I played a little special teams, which I had never really played in my life. I was used to being the star athlete in my circles back home. But out here, it was like, these guys are the type of raw athlete that I hadn’t seen before. I walked onto the team and there’s Akiem Hicks at 300 pounds running like that. It knocked me down a peg but then it built me back up.

I lived with Stefan Charles, an NFL calibre player like Akiem and another dog on our Regina Rams defensive squad. Stef was also from the Toronto area and knew where I had come from to get here. Having him be able to relate to my upbringing was a key part of our relationship. He challenged me and I would listen. Like a big brother, he pushed me both on and off the field to envision myself as a professional athlete.

As things progressed in my collegiate career, I knew the CFL was the next step. But I wanted it to be the NFL. I saw Akiem get drafted and Stef picked up in free agency. I wouldn’t say I was mad about going to the CFL. I just had this burning desire to reach higher. 

The talent in the CFL was what I had expected it to be. What was unexpected were the politics.

There is a preconceived notion in the CFL that Canadians can’t play cornerback.

I went from the Calgary Stampeders to being traded to Saskatchewan. With the Roughriders, I came in and they had their pre-determined “Canadian spots” on defence - safety, linebacker, and defensive line. Cornerback was unavailable to me, so I bumped up to 200 pounds and played safety for the first week or two of training camp. After that, they wanted me back at corner. And so I cut weight back to 185 -- then, they didn’t play me at corner. I ended up on the special teams unit instead. I went on to play games at safety and at halfback.

Cornerback is such a strategic and fundamental position. The perception is that Americans are taught better. They are faster. They are stronger. The idea around the CFL was that you could always get another Canadian. “But this American corner…he’s good. We need him on the team.” And so I was expendable.

I was traded from Saskatchewan to Montreal. In my second year with the Alouettes, I was supposed to start at corner. One of my old coaches from Calgary was the new defensive coordinator. I knew the system already. I was excited to finally be given a real shot to produce as a cornerback at a high level.

On the day I was set to do my physical, I get a knock on my door.

“The team is moving in a different direction.”

I didn’t get a call from the GM or from the coach. Not even my agent at the time. I called him and he himself was confused. He didn’t know why they had decided to release me.

I got in my car and drove from Montreal to Toronto. Back home, I was staying with my mom. My girlfriend was back in Regina. I didn’t know what to do. Should I bring her here? Or am I going to get signed to another team and have to move again? I’m sitting there waiting, waiting, and waiting. By the end of CFL training camps, no one had called. 

I thought football was done and my career was over.

Three months into the season, a friend texted me.

“Are you watching the Montreal game?”

I’m like, “Nah. What’s happening?”

“The corners are getting beat. A lot. Did the GM call you?”

I immediately texted my agent to call the Alouettes GM and tell him I am ready to come back. My agent called me 10 minutes later.

“Montreal wants you here on Wednesday.”

I’m the starting corner my first week back. And I balled out for the rest of the season.

The Als wanted to re-sign me, but I said no. Last year, I received no explanation as to why I had been cut. No one said a word. I didn’t want to come back here and deal with that business for another year.

From that point forward, I made my mind up -- I’m going to the NFL. I brought on a new agent and decided that if the NFL doesn’t work out then it is what it is. But I had to try because I felt I deserved better.

My first play in the NFL was Week 4 against Tom Brady and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

Playing in L.A., with the Chargers, I hadn’t been a starter at that time. It was probably the third or fourth play of the game, and Desmond King dislocated his finger. He had to come off the field to get it popped back in. So I went in and played nickel corner.

I wasn’t concerned about Tom Brady. All I thought to myself was, “Now that you’re here…don’t fuck it up.”

Snap comes in. The running back caught the ball out in the flat and on my first play I made my first tackle. All the guys started jumping around me. It was a really exciting time. And then Desmond gets back in there, his finger now back in place, and I’m back on the sidelines thinking, “Damn! Get me back in there. I need more snaps.”

I don’t like to dwell on anything too heavily. I’m always thinking about the next opportunity. Later in the season, Week 11 against the New York Jets, I intercepted Joe Flacco for my first pick six. Running into the end zone, I was excited, and then it was over. After the game, I went home and I turned on my Xbox and started playing Call of Duty. I didn’t answer any calls or texts.

I just let it all decompress and went on to the next day and the next challenge.

This past season with the Chargers was a rollercoaster.

We weren’t a bad team. Everyone knew that we had the talent and an exciting quarterback in Herbert. But we kept shooting ourselves in the foot early on. Everyone in our conference we should have beaten twice. And it shows because at the end of the season we went on a winning streak and took out everyone in our conference. 

In our last game of the season, we beat Kansas City. It was bittersweet. We weren’t going to the playoffs. But we knew that this winning energy would translate into next year.

I’m technically a veteran. We are a young team and we need leadership to take that next step. That doesn’t mean my voice has to be louder than the rest. It means giving one guy a little piece of information and that wisdom will flow throughout the team.

In everything I have overcome in life and on the football field, I try to pass those lessons on.