NC State transfer Dante Daniels’ tough childhood shaped him. Football gave him hope

Editor’s note: This article contains descriptions of addiction that may be disturbing to some readers.

N.C. State tight end Dante Daniels leapt over Syracuse defensive back Clarence Lewis, his right leg stretched over Lewis’ tumbling body while cradling the football. Grass flew off his cleats. Wolfpack students looked on as Daniels picked up a 9-yard gain and first down.

Those watching the game probably thought they had witnessed an impressive feat of athleticism, which is true.

But, a lot led up to that one play.

It’s almost unfair to say “it’s complicated” when describing Daniels’ life and feelings about his childhood; like too big of an understatement.

To ask Daniels about his family life and childhood is to see the best and worst of the human experience, to feel life’s nuances and complexities. Most importantly, it’s a chance to feel hope and see prosperity.

Daniels’ road hasn’t been easy. He’ll probably deal with the repercussions for years to come. The best part? The Wolfpack junior transfer is just getting started.

‘I shouldn’t have witnessed that’

He remembers the police cars showing up in the middle of the night and being whisked away to his aunt’s house, adrenaline bumping through his body. He couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was whether his mother was alive or dead.

Daniels, 22, was born in Canada, one of six children. He’s the third-oldest, sandwiched between Tyler and Taylor; then Santino, Aliyah and Savannah.

His biological mother, Danielle, is recovering from addiction. Daniels said there were times when he thought his mother was sleeping on the couch. She was experiencing the side effects of drug use.

“I shouldn’t have witnessed that. I can still remember it so vividly in my head — what was going on, where I was at, what she was doing,” Daniels said. ”That’s just not something kids should have to worry about. It was tough.”

His biological father, Edward, moved to Detroit when Daniels was in elementary school, around 7 years old. As a child, Daniels simply told people he didn’t have a dad.

It wasn’t until his 15th birthday that his father told him the reason for leaving: Danielle’s drug addiction.

“I just couldn’t be around it,” Daniels said his father told him.

Tyler and Taylor later moved out on their own, leaving Daniels to care for the younger children. He did whatever he could to help the family, from selling recyclable cans for extra grocery money or searching for a job. He walked or took public transportation to school.

Daniels said he wasn’t completely alone. His mother’s boyfriend provided some financial support, and his maternal grandmother assisted in caring for the youngest children. Still, no one would argue that he had it easy.

“My mom just wasn’t being a good parent at the time,” Daniels said. “I barely went to school my freshman year of high school, because I was always trying to help out.”

Things deteriorated as he grew older. Daniels said his mother would often slur her words or struggle to walk. Sometimes, he said, she would overdose in bed.

“I was scared to bring my friends home, because I didn’t want my friends to see any of this,” he said.

Danielle moved to Detroit, about 10 minutes from Windsor, Ontario, during his sophomore year of high school. He was homeless and bounced around, staying with friends, until he found himself with the Fillion family full-time.

‘You’ve always got a place’

In a two-bedroom home not far from where Daniels grew up, three teenage boys crammed into a triple-bunk bed. The Fillions, Jen and Joel, have two children of their own: Paul, one of Daniels’ childhood best friends, and Joseph.

When they heard Daniels needed a place to stay in 2018, they immediately opened their home. He was basically already part of their family anyway.

“My natural reaction was, ‘Hey, we’ve always got room. We’ve always got a place at our house,’” Joel Fillion said. “‘You may have to sleep on the couch, but you’ve always got a place.’”

Daniels and Paul met when the two played T-ball together. Danielle and Edward were still married. Joel Fillion said Daniels didn’t attend the same schools as his kids, so they only saw him during the summer.

Daniels accompanied the family on a summer trip and bonded with them. He quickly became an honorary Fillion. He remembers them helping pay for his school sports or finding scholarships, but they didn’t know everything about his family’s past.

“Our family probably would have known a little bit more, because we’re a little bit closer to him,” Fillion said, “but even we still didn’t know the full extent.”

His sister Taylor called in the spring of 2018, shortly after Daniels turned 16. Danielle was in the hospital after overdosing. He wasn’t going back.

“Our kids weren’t asked to be brought into this world,” Fillion said. “We brought them in, so it’s up to us to give them the right path.”

The Fillions filed to become Daniels’ legal guardians, known as a kinship home in Canada. The process is similar to foster care and adoption, and he considers himself adopted.

They helped him get his driver’s license, obtain American citizenship to attend school — Edward, Daniels’ biological father, is from the U.S. — and health insurance. They enforced curfew, held him to high standards, signed permission slips and taught Daniels other life skills. Oh, and the fridge was always stocked with milk and orange juice, things that were once reserved for his younger siblings due to cost.

Though they did not legally adopt Daniels, he considers them parents, and they consider him a son.

“They allowed me to succeed in school. I got my grades up, went to school every single day. Never had missing days unless I was actually really sick,” Daniels said. “They gave me every single opportunity they gave their kids to succeed in sports. … They gave me every possible situation to succeed in life.”

Said Joel Fillion: “As much as people say, ‘Oh, you’ve done so much for Dante,’ he’s done so much for us. I think life works in mysterious ways, and I think everything has a way of balancing out. This is one of those situations where people say, ‘Oh, you did a good thing.’ It’s like, no, we didn’t do a good thing. We just did the right thing. It was the only thing to do.”

‘Stick this thing through’

The sun beat down as Daniels lugged grocery bags from Walmart to his dorm at Butler Community College in El Dorado, Kansas. By car, it’s a five-minute trip. Walking it took 30 minutes.

When Daniels was in high school, he didn’t receive any offers to play college football. A former youth coach connected him with Brice Vignery, who leads the small junior college program with a rich football history, producing such players as Dallas Cowboys defensive end DeMarcus Lawrence and Cincinnati Bengals head coach Zac Taylor, who played quarterback at Butler.

Vignery gave Daniels a chance to play and an opportunity to flourish.

“This is what adulthood looks like,” he said. It was a fresh start.

“It gave me a chance to step away from the environment I was raised in, and gave me time to set back and reflect on my life and what brought me to where I was at,” Daniels said.

Of course, this wasn’t an easy experience, either. The players weren’t particularly close, Butler doesn’t have state-of-the-art facilities and chartered travel, and Daniels missed home. He wanted to move back to Canada in 2022.

“You’re not welcome home until you graduate,” Joel Fillion recalled his wife telling Daniels. “It was basically saying, ‘Stick this thing through. Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Just work hard.’”

Daniels attended the school for three years, playing 10 games and recording a touchdown. He learned the value of hard work and that playing college football is a privilege.

While at Butler, N.C. State saw his potential. He signed with the Wolfpack in December, and enrolled in January.

“It’s been fun to see him transition. I love recruiting junior college players. They come in so grateful, because there’s nothing at those places,” Wolfpack head coach Dave Doeren said. “In some cases, no one’s there to tape their ankles. They’ve got no training table, they eat at the cafeteria. Then, all of a sudden, someone hands you a shake, and you’re like, ‘What’s this? You’re giving me something?’ (There’s) appreciation and gratitude, especially with his story, going through what he did as a youngster.”

Emotional contradictions

Families of N.C. State football players often sit near the 50-yard line in the lower bowl of Carter-Finley Stadium.

On Saturday, for the first time in his career, Daniels will have members of his adoptive and biological family in attendance when N.C. State hosts Stanford for homecoming. The Fillions are traveling to North Carolina for the third time. They attended the spring game and the Pack’s matchup in Charlotte. This, however, will be the first time Edward, Daniels’ biological father, will see his son play college football.

It’s exciting, but it also brings up complicated emotions. Edward remarried and took in his wife’s children after moving from Canada.

For many years, Daniels resented his father for leaving him and his siblings. Now, he says it might’ve been difficult to raise children where Edward lived in Detroit. He thinks Edward was concerned about what his wife, Danielle, would’ve done without the children around.

They have a better relationship now, but what happens if Edward says something that hurts Daniels again?

Danielle, meanwhile, has never seen her son play college football. She’s trying to stay clean, he said, but their relationship is strained. Daniels sometimes feels like he can’t talk about the past and the impact it had on him.

Fillion struggles to watch Daniels process the warring feelings. It’s painful and, at times, frustrating. He knows Daniels wants to see Edward as the best dad, but he wasn’t present and is just now rebuilding that relationship.

Even the way Daniels talks about his childhood reflects the contradictory feelings he holds. He doesn’t think any child should be put in the position he was in, but Daniels also wishes he could go back and tell his younger self to “be a man.”

“I know he struggles with it,” Fillion said. “I think it’s a very complex situation for him.”

‘It made me who I am today’

Tears welled up in Daniels’ eyes when he exited the tunnels at Clemson Memorial and Bank of America stadiums for his first Division I college games. Every hardship, all of the long nights, the fear and sadness fell away as he took in his surroundings.

Some of his teammates grew up playing under bright lights and were expected to be there. He wasn’t sure if he’d go to college. Sports were just a way of distracting himself from what happened at home.

Daniels said coming to N.C. State has changed his life. He’s learning that it’s OK to cry and express gentler emotions, and he’s extending the family he started to make in Canada.

The tight end proposed to his longtime girlfriend in September. Justin Joly and Aiden Arias took photos. Teammates and coaches called, texted and commented on his social media posts. He doesn’t have to feel alone — in his happiness or pain.

“His story is a lot different than most people’s stories. He’s been through a lot,” Doeren said. “I think he’s at peace. He’s forgiven people in his life. I think he’s very grounded. He’s engaged. So, his life is different than a lot of college people’s lives.”

It’s been a wild journey for Daniels to get to where he is today. He’s seen broken families, addiction and heartache. He’s also experienced joy and new beginnings.

Things may never be simple. He may always feel conflicted, but Daniels can be proud of the way he emerged.

“I’ve grown as a person. It made me who I am today,” Daniels said. “If I had that two-parent system, I don’t think I’d have the edge I have now to play college football. … I feel like everything happens for a reason. I’m glad it happened this way.”