This feature originally appeared in the Winter edition of the Cal Sports Quarterly. The Cal Athletics flagship magazine features long-form sports journalism at its finest and provides in-depth coverage of the scholar-athlete experience in Berkeley. Printed copies are mailed four times a year to Bear Backers who give annually at the Bear Club level (currently $600 or more). For more information on how you can receive a printed version of the Cal Sports Quarterly at home, send an email to CalAthleticsFund@berkeley.edu or call (510) 642-2427.



Six years later, Alaysia Styles still remembers the knock on the door. She remembers the policeman handing over a sheet of paper with the words "Eviction Notice" printed across the top and having to quickly move into a Motel 6 down the street. She recalls days where she and her older brother, Rimani, would buy as much food as they could at the nearby Jack in the Box, hoping it would last the day.
 
"There were days we would have to pick between breakfast, lunch, and dinner," said Styles, now a sophomore on the Cal women's basketball team. "But looking back, it's definitely one of the best things that ever happened to me. At the time, it was pretty horrible, but it's the biggest reason I am who am I today."
 
Today, Styles is flourishing at the top public university in the world and proving to be a valuable contributor on the court. But her journey to Berkeley was filled with uncertainty and hardship.
 
Known to most by her nickname, "Bird," Styles spent her early childhood in Rancho Bernardo with her mother and older brother until eighth grade, when they were forced to leave their apartment and move to Escondido. But shortly after, they were evicted and moved into the Motel 6, where they had to change rooms every few days. A few months into their stay at the hotel, Styles' younger brother, Bryson - who she calls her "biggest blessing" – was born.
 
Family and dreams of playing collegiate basketball steadied Styles during this time.
 
"She told me when she was six years old that she was going to be a Division I athlete," Styles' mother, Ra Russell, recounted with a laugh. "That's what's most impressive to me about her – that she never lost her focus. She had the opportunity to be distracted by a million and one things, but she kept her eye on the prize."
 
"I just knew I wanted to make my mom proud," Styles said. "I feel like I could have easily turned to drugs, alcohol, or so many other things, but I knew the last thing she wanted me to do was go down the wrong path. It was extra motivation. I wanted to make sure that my mom would never have to be in that position again, and that if I had a family that would never happen to me again, either."
 
Styles began her freshman year at San Marcos High School with the goal of improving her grades to get accepted into La Jolla Country Day School, one of the top private schools in the area and a perennial power in girls' basketball. But early in the school year, the family was forced to move once again, unable to pay for the Motel 6 with Russell out of work caring for her newborn son. This time, they landed in Chula Vista, staying with a family friend.
 
Every morning, Russell would wake her three children up at 5:30 a.m. and load them into the car to make the drive from Chula Vista, the southern-most part of San Diego, up to San Marcos, the northern-most part of the city. While Rimani and Alaysia attended class, Russell and newborn Bryson would wait in the Starbucks across the street, unable to afford the gas money to make the round trip twice in one day. When basketball season began, that often meant not returning home until midnight, only to be up before dawn the next morning to repeat the trek.
 
Despite the long days and long drives, Styles raised her GPA from a 2.9 to a 3.9 and was accepted into La Jolla Country Day for her sophomore year. Yet the struggles continued, with Styles feeling completely out of place in her new world.
 
"Going to Country Day was definitely a culture shock," said Styles. "I was one of just a few black people at the school. I lived on the other side of the city. I was poor. I took the bus to school and back every day. It was really rough at first. I don't think I've cried more in my life."
 
The basketball court had always been Styles' safe haven, her escape and the space in which she knew she belonged. But even that was ripped away to start. Under the guise of illegal recruitment, the California Interscholastic Federation deemed Styles ineligible to compete for her sophomore season. The decision left both Styles and her mother feeling helpless.
 
"That month was one of the longest months of my life," said Russell. "I had a kid who didn't understand why she had to go through this at the young age of 15, why the game she loved was being taken away from her. With all I had been through with these kids – all the ups and downs – this was the first time I that I felt truly helpless. I couldn't fix it."
 
Styles would eventually make her way back to the court when the father of one of her teammates took up her case pro bono and fought the CIF ruling. The decision was overturned and after four games, Styles returned to the hardwood.
 
From there, she quickly found her footing, and the season that appeared lost at the outset ended with a trophy being hoisted on Pete Newell Court at Haas Pavilion, as Styles led the Torreys to the 2015 Division V state championship.
 
One year later, she returned to Haas Pavilion on an official recruiting visit. Following the state championship run, a host of schools, Cal among them, heavily pursued Styles. But from the outset, she had her heart set on Maryland, developing a strong bond with the coaching staff and intrigued by the prospect of a new environment and new competition.
 
Per Russell's insistence, Styles came on her third and final official visit to Cal late in the spring but viewed it as a mere formality. She was headed to Maryland.
 
But then she walked back into Haas Pavilion and stepped back onto the court.
 
"We're having this moment and she just looked at me and said, 'This is it,'" Russell recounted. "'Mom, this is my house. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is my home.'"
 
"They say that when you get to the right school you'll just know," added Styles. "It's true. In my heart, I knew that Cal was calling my name."
 
The year-and-a-half that Styles has spent in Berkeley has only reaffirmed that decision.
 
"I seriously did find a home here," Styles said. "The campus and Berkeley in general make me feel like I belong. I've grown so much more comfortable in being able to express who I am and what I've been through. I used to be really shy and was so scared to talk about it because I didn't want to be judged. But halfway through freshman year, I realized there was really nothing to be scared of. One of the things that Cal has taught me is you shouldn't be ashamed of who you are."
 
As Styles has grown to embrace her past and the trials that brought her to Berkeley, her mother remembers that the best is yet to come.
 
"It's a pleasure being her mom and she has taught me so much," said Russell. "Commitment. Loyalty. Accountability. That came from Alaysia and watching her pursue her love of basketball. I tell her all the time, 'Be better than me. Be everything that I wasn't.' What she's been through and never broke … She is who she is based off of what she went through, and I wouldn't change any of our struggle. That's our story, and I feel like Birdy's is only beginning. And it's only going to get better."