PENN STATE COLLEGE — When Adisa Isaac was a junior, he asked a lot of questions like a junior.
There’s an explanation that requires some thought: “Why are my brothers and my sisters different?”
His mother, Lisa Wiltshire-Isaac, expected this day to come. Of her four children, Adisha is the only one who can speak. She asked him to sit down.
She told him that his eldest brother, Kyle Wiltshire, was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. A lack of oxygen at birth resulted in autism, mental retardation, developmental disabilities and cerebral palsy.
Adisa’s next brother, Y’ashua Isaac, did not hit some developmental indicators as a toddler. Doctors told Lisa he had an intellectual disability and developmental delay.
His mother told him that Adisha’s sister, Taji Isaac, had a similar story. Taji has also been diagnosed with intellectual disabilities and developmental delays.
So it’s understandable that young Adisha would ask this question.
But this spring, as he prepares to be drafted in the early rounds of the NFL draft, there’s another question, and perhaps a better one, that’s being answered.
Why was Adisha Isaac born in this family?
At the age of 3, Adisa could write her own name and knew her mother’s phone number. At the age of 8, he started learning traffic rules, how to make a car go left or right, which pedal to accelerate and which to stop. Lisa often spends time alone with her children, whose father is not involved in their lives. Her mother thought it would be a good idea for Adisha to learn to drive, just in case.
From Lisa’s point of view, it was her responsibility to take care of Kyle, Yahshua, and Taji, not Adisha’s. But he watched what she did and how she did it. He helps out when her load gets too much, making sure his siblings are bathed properly or their teeth brushed thoroughly, helping them get dressed, tie their shoes, prepare meals or clean the bathroom – anything necessary.
While his friends play games, Adisa might take his siblings to the park, watch a movie with them or help them create Play-Doh. Lisa said she couldn’t imagine what she would do without him.
deeper
How ready are Penn State’s NFL draft prospects?What we learned from Career Day
Lisa spent her childhood in Kulepe, Trinidad and Tobago, where she had never heard of the NFL. At the age of 11, she immigrated to New York with her mother and sister. Today, she is a special education teacher at PS 138 in Brooklyn, teaching students in kindergarten through second grade. She does the same things at home that she does at work.
“I do,” she said in a Trini accent, “I was sent here to do this.”
Especially since Adisha went to Penn State, it’s still a mystery how she fares.
“She did a million unexplainable things in the dark that made her who she was,” Adisa said.
“You can have a full conversation with her, and somehow she knows what her three (developmentally disabled) children need without even looking,” said Kyle Allen, Adisha’s director in Canarsie. Football coach for first three years of high school.
He will tell you that Adisha’s power comes from her.
For much of his childhood, the family lived in Brownsville, Brooklyn, where trouble came to every bus stop or convenience store parking lot. Sometimes, it’s like a tugging guard that seems to come out of nowhere, with rage. But Adisha always manages to get around it.
Allen said he never saw Adisha skip class, hang out with the wrong people or get into fights. Lisa focused on her grades, so schoolwork ended up being a priority alongside family and sports.
When Adisa was a sophomore in high school, he came down with the flu. His mother instructed him to stay in bed and drink water before calling to check on him, but he heard noises in the background.
Lisa: “Where are you?”
Adisha: “At school.”
Lisa: “What are you doing at school?”
Adisha: “We have a basketball game today and I can’t let my players down.”
“He always put others before himself,” Lisa said.
When Adisa first stepped onto the football field as a high school freshman, he found where he was meant to be. “I’m in love,” he said.
The game loves him too. After initially viewing Adisa as a wide receiver, Allen was so awed by the way he threw that he made Adisa a pass rusher. Allen also recognized the extraordinary football character.
“When I started coaching him, I realized he was a little different from other kids,” Allen said. “His maturity is different. His focus is different. His coaching ability is different.”
Adisa served as a team captain for three seasons at Canarsie and was a two-time team MVP. As a senior, he had 25 sacks and was rated the No. 1 prospect in New York by 247 Sports, ESPN and Rivals.
He chose Penn State over Alabama, Michigan, Miami and other schools because he was impressed with the way the coaches treated his family. Schools within driving distance were a priority because Kyle didn’t feel comfortable on airplanes.
Adisa Isaac (right) with brothers Kyle (top) and Y’ashua (left) and sister Tadj (bottom). (Courtesy Lisa Wiltshire Isaac)
Kyle, 33, is often cautious, serious and a loner. Adisha calmed his anxiety. Kyle sulked. Adisha made a face. Kyle laughed, a huge smile on his face. Then he wanted to get his brother’s attention.
Taji, 19, wants his love. She is possessive of Adisha. If someone she didn’t know shook his hand, she might grab Adisha and try to pull him away. After a game last season, he was in a crowd signing autographs when a suddenly excited Taji appeared out of nowhere, rushed to him, nearly hugged him, and then planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
“She was a very caring girl,” he said.
With Y’ashua, Adisa is more likely to be chased. Y’ashua has a mind of his own and likes to push his boundaries, especially when he sees an opportunity to flirt. “He was a cool guy,” said Adisa, 22, a year younger than his brother, with whom he shared a bedroom growing up.
At every game Adisa plays, his siblings wear jerseys, T-shirts or sweaters with his name and No. 20 on the back. Of the more than 100,000 fans surrounding Beaver Stadium, no one was more excited and joyful than the three guys sitting in the front row behind the Nittany Lions bench.
Adisha found them during pregame warm-ups. Often, when he comes to the sideline after a defensive series, he lets them know he sees them. They pointed. He did a little dance. They become crazy.
“They were screaming, making noises, making gestures,” he said. “It makes me feel good to acknowledge them and play with them.”
However, they have nothing to be excited about in 2021. That summer, Adissa injured his ankle while doing a lateral drill. Adisa required surgery to repair a ruptured Achilles tendon and missed the entire season. This was a challenging time in his life, but one that few can put into words.
“He’s like, ‘OK, this happened for a reason and I’m going to get over it,'” Penn State defensive line coach Dionne Barnes said. “It really didn’t bother him that much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him down.”
It will take a while for Adisa to fully recover, but by the 2023 season, he’s ready to move to the next level. He led the Nittany Lions with 7.5 sacks and 16 tackles for loss in a loss. He was selected to the All-Big Ten First Team. Sports Information Solutions named him a first-team All-American.
His teammates voted him captain last season. He acted as a go-between when coaches and players couldn’t communicate. Adisa stressed to a teammate the importance of maintaining correct technique, even if that player is successful in his own way. When another player was frustrated because of a dip in form, Adisa would talk to him every day and try to keep him positive and upbeat.
He also interned about 20 hours a week at a state high school, working with children with disabilities, earning $10 an hour.
Adisha often works one-on-one with students. One boy, Sahd, struggles with anxiety. Using the sounds of an all-night jazz DJ, Adisha teaches him how to walk the hallways with his head held high, how to say what he wants with conviction, and how to interpret what’s going on around him.
“He ended up growing, learning, and having a happier personality that he didn’t show at the beginning,” Adisa said.
Adisha sometimes worked long shifts and stayed up late teaching students how to be self-sufficient and prepare them for independence.
Barnes said Adisha still did extra soccer practice while working at the high school. “It was like the internship didn’t exist in my mind,” said Barnes.
“I get a little tired sometimes, but it’s important to me to be able to help them grow,” Adisa said. “I feel like I’m already juggling a lot more than that. So it’s easy for me.”
At 6 feet 4 inches tall, Adisa stands more than a head taller than his siblings. His mother couldn’t explain his height. Or his heart.
“Sometimes he wonders why I stare at him because he’s so in awe of me,” Lisa said. “He was such a beautiful man.”
Adisa learned the value of selflessness and how a positive attitude impacts those around her. He learned why responsibility is so important and developed patience. All of that reflected in the footballer he became. He is different.
“You’re going to want a thousand Adisas,” said Barnes.
Perhaps his most outstanding trait is his bending ability. Protractor would say he rushes passers at 160-degree angles at times. Barnes said he turned things around by relying on the flexibility of Chandler Jones, who had 112 career sacks with the Patriots, Cardinals and Raiders.
“When I watched him work out at pro day, he was so low that I thought he was going to fall over, but he kept his footing,” said one veteran NFL talent evaluator.
His flexibility isn’t limited to football. “He’s very adaptable,” Lisa said. “He sees a situation and adapts to it, blending in as needed, trying to come up with solutions.”
Isaac and his mother, Lisa Wiltshire-Isaac. (Courtesy of Isaac Wiltshire)
He hopes to continue helping people with disabilities. Potential philanthropic activities swirled in his mind. He graduated in December with a major in health and human services and is considering dedicating his retirement to working with children with disabilities, possibly in counseling or teaching.
After Adisa worked out for NFL scouts at Penn State’s pro day, he, Allen and Allen’s two sons sat eating ice cream outside Penn State’s Berkey Creamery. Alan asked him if he realized he would soon be rich.
Adisha says yes. His family now lives in a poor area of East Flatbush. His goal is to provide them with a better home and he wants them to be close to him.
“I feel like God knew what He was doing to put me in this situation,” Adisa said. “Obviously, I’m here for a reason.”
(Photo: Dan Goldfarb/ Competitor; Photo: Todd Rosenberg/AP)
