Deonte Harty knew he could expect a big crowd when the Bills played the Washington Commanders despite the deterring weather.
The last time his team – the New Orleans Saints at the time – played at the Commanders, the Baltimore native said he had “probably like 20 to 25 people” on hand. His mom, Lisa, disagrees. She said it was way more.
Harty’s senior game at Assumption University was good practice; it also took place in the pouring rain, and his boisterous crowd of family and friends donned black and blue ponchos over their custom matching blue T-shirts.
As the Bills won 37-3 over the Commanders in the relentless rain Sunday, Harty again had a strong crowd on hand.
“We show up,” the Bills receiver said.
But whether or not they are physically there, Harty feels his support system around him constantly. They call themselves Tay Nation. He knows they can help him through any storm.
In 2021, Harty went through a bout of depression. His girlfriend had a miscarriage while he was at training camp. His childhood friend died. A hurricane meant he had to evacuate to Dallas. Any one of the those would have been a major challenge; Harty was grappling with it all at once, miles away from his support system.
He felt unmoored. He felt depressed. He felt so much at once. But he didn’t feel like he could reach out. Instead, he felt like he should fly back to Maryland without telling anyone.
“He kept it from us,” Lisa said. “He didn’t tell us that he was contemplating coming home, because he knew what would have happened. He knew I would have put him on another plane right back. Like, ‘No. We don’t quit. You’re going back.’ ”
Ultimately, Harty stayed. But the experience stuck with him, too. When it came time this offseason to plan a community event, Harty was still thinking about his lowest moments.
“It was just so much stuff just happening to me at once. And when I got through it, it was just something that was just always on my mind,” Harty said.
“I know people go through things like this on the regular. So, it’s like now, how can I be a voice and expressing to them, like: ‘I made it through; This is how I did it. We might not have the same story. But we can have the same solutions.’ ”
This past July, through his foundation, also called Tay Nation, and with a number of local partners, including the NFLPA, Harty continued his mission to make sure others know they are not alone, even when it feels that way.
It’s not unusual for NFL players to host camps in the summer, but Harty’s had a twist. On July 1, he and the Tay Nation Foundation hosted a day of mental wellness.
For a few hours in New Orleans, the Man Cave Alliance was a place where people could listen to panelists on mental health, share their own experiences and connect with others. The goal was to bring together the community, connect people with resources, and to tackle the stigma around mental health, particularly for Black men and boys.
“I think just because of like some of the things that happened to me in the last couple of years, just dealing with a lot of stuff – not necessarily on my own, but feeling like I was alone – and just not knowing who to go to,” Harty said. “Obviously, I knew I had my family, but it’s like, still, you get to a point where you’re so low that you get into your head, like nobody can help you.
“So, you know, it was just dealing with that and knowing that other people are dealing with it — it was like, now’s the time to speak about it.”
Lisa Harty, who was at the game, wasn’t surprised to see her son take on a mission like this, but was proud, nonetheless.
“It’s kind of empowering to watch your child come into their own,” Lisa said. “He’s an adult, he has his own ideas. … He really thinks about these things. He may not tell you all the time, but he’s thinking about those things, and he wants to give back to those who don’t have what he has, so that they can find the opportunities and the places to get the help that they need.”
‘You can’t protect them from everything’
Harty’s desire to give back started young. When Lisa was raising her boys, picking out Christmas gifts for kids in need from angel trees at the mall was a tradition. Now, he does toy drives each year, first filling the family’s living room with gifts.
The year he signed with the Saints as a rookie undrafted free agent, Lisa would get her master’s degree in social work from University of Maryland at Baltimore. She was frustrated when she couldn’t immediately find a job, but by then, Deonte had made it to the NFL. He told her they would take care of each other.
In 2021, she went to the most notable lengths. She drove to Dallas before the hurricane, then drove to New Orleans with his younger brother. They checked on the house, got the dog and drove back to Baltimore.
“I would have done it tenfold over,” Lisa said, “because I knew he was going through so much.”
Her mother’s instinct kicked in. She asked Deonte beforehand if she should come down. He said no. She knew better.
“You could tell me no, but I know my kids,” Lisa said. “So, when you say no, you know I’m really coming. But it’s hard to work with kids, but again, you’ve got to realize that they’re grown up. You can’t protect them from everything.”
Harty also knows that there’s no way to fully eliminate the feelings people may be up against; it’s about giving them ways to cope.
The plan is to continue to host an event like this every year in the offseason. During the season, the Tay Nation Foundation will look to provide resources to student athletes who are in crisis, with a focus on connecting them to culturally sensitive and competent providers. Additionally, a partnership with Minority Women in Sports Medicine and Huddle X Action is in the words to provide training to athletic trainers and administrators to look for major signs of a mental health crisis.
In all the work, and starting with the Man Cave Alliance, Harty looks to be both honest and solutions-based in his advice.
“First, it was just understanding that it’s OK to not be OK,” Harty said. “You can’t have it all together every day. Nobody does. If that was the case, you’d be perfect. And none of us are perfect.
“So, one, just understanding that you’re gonna have bad days. And then it’s realizing that: ‘OK, this is not how I want to feel. And this is not how I should feel. So, who can I talk to?’ What friends, what family do you have in place to where they can get you out of that zone? So, really just understanding what it is that you’re going through, and then just having the right people around you.
“And then understanding like, ‘OK, I might go through something right now, but it’s not the end of the world.’ I could have a good day today; I might have a bad day tomorrow. But life is like a roller coaster. So, just understanding that not every day is going to be good. And just having the right people in place to help you get through those days, when they’re not so good.”
‘Quietly the funniest’
Lisa Harty has a request. She knows what some people say about her son, and she disagrees.
“I just want people to know that he’s not a quiet, shy guy,” Lisa said.
The word quiet still comes up when teammates and coaches talk about Harty. But it always comes with some additional context.
“He’s quietly the funniest guy on the team,” quarterback Josh Allen said of Harty. “He doesn’t say much, but when he does it’s pretty funny. He’s got a very unique personality.
“He just kind of lays low in the weeds – no pun intended, he’s not the biggest guy – but he’s awesome to be around. And as time goes on, he’s opening up more for the receiver room and this offense, and the more we can pull out of him, the better.”
Harty holds his hands to the side as he shrugs in agreement with Allen.
“That’s a very accurate statement,” Harty said. “Now, I am real quiet – I just like to absorb things. I don’t really like to say too much, but then when I see something that I think could stick, I just like to insert a little something here and there, you know?”
After signing a two-year contract with the Bills back in March, that personality is showing more and more.
“He’s got a little bit of humor to him at times,” offensive coordinator Ken Dorsey said. “He’ll mix that in.”
Coach Sean McDermott, wide receiver Gabe Davis and tight end Dawson Knox all echoed that. You don’t always hear Harty, but when you do, you’re bound to laugh.
Wide receiver Stefon Diggs, who also often advocates for athletes’ mental health in news conferences, said he hasn’t talked to Harty a ton about his camp given how busy this time of year is. Still, Diggs knows how important that work is.
“I love it. … Proud of him,” Diggs said. “Kudos to him taking those steps in the right direction, as far as like not even just as a player, but as a man in your community.”
Because Harty knows there will still be bad days ahead. But there will be plenty of good days, too. He’s ready for them all, and in Buffalo, he knows he’ll have plenty of the latter.
“It’s fun. I tell people all the time, this is probably the funnest group I’ve been around in my five years,” Harty said. “It’s fun coming to work with these guys every day.”
Deonte Harty knew he could expect a big crowd when the Bills played the Washington Commanders despite the deterring weather.
The last time his team – the New Orleans Saints at the time – played at the Commanders, the Baltimore native said he had “probably like 20 to 25 people” on hand. His mom, Lisa, disagrees. She said it was way more.
Harty’s senior game at Assumption University was good practice; it also took place in the pouring rain, and his boisterous crowd of family and friends donned black and blue ponchos over their custom matching blue T-shirts.
As the Bills won 37-3 over the Commanders in the relentless rain Sunday, Harty again had a strong crowd on hand.
“We show up,” the Bills receiver said.
But whether or not they are physically there, Harty feels his support system around him constantly. They call themselves Tay Nation. He knows they can help him through any storm.
In 2021, Harty went through a bout of depression. His girlfriend had a miscarriage while he was at training camp. His childhood friend died. A hurricane meant he had to evacuate to Dallas. Any one of the those would have been a major challenge; Harty was grappling with it all at once, miles away from his support system.
He felt unmoored. He felt depressed. He felt so much at once. But he didn’t feel like he could reach out. Instead, he felt like he should fly back to Maryland without telling anyone.
“He kept it from us,” Lisa said. “He didn’t tell us that he was contemplating coming home, because he knew what would have happened. He knew I would have put him on another plane right back. Like, ‘No. We don’t quit. You’re going back.’ ”
Ultimately, Harty stayed. But the experience stuck with him, too. When it came time this offseason to plan a community event, Harty was still thinking about his lowest moments.
“It was just so much stuff just happening to me at once. And when I got through it, it was just something that was just always on my mind,” Harty said.
“I know people go through things like this on the regular. So, it’s like now, how can I be a voice and expressing to them, like: ‘I made it through; This is how I did it. We might not have the same story. But we can have the same solutions.’ ”
This past July, through his foundation, also called Tay Nation, and with a number of local partners, including the NFLPA, Harty continued his mission to make sure others know they are not alone, even when it feels that way.
It’s not unusual for NFL players to host camps in the summer, but Harty’s had a twist. On July 1, he and the Tay Nation Foundation hosted a day of mental wellness.
For a few hours in New Orleans, the Man Cave Alliance was a place where people could listen to panelists on mental health, share their own experiences and connect with others. The goal was to bring together the community, connect people with resources, and to tackle the stigma around mental health, particularly for Black men and boys.
“I think just because of like some of the things that happened to me in the last couple of years, just dealing with a lot of stuff – not necessarily on my own, but feeling like I was alone – and just not knowing who to go to,” Harty said. “Obviously, I knew I had my family, but it’s like, still, you get to a point where you’re so low that you get into your head, like nobody can help you.
“So, you know, it was just dealing with that and knowing that other people are dealing with it — it was like, now’s the time to speak about it.”
Lisa Harty, who was at the game, wasn’t surprised to see her son take on a mission like this, but was proud, nonetheless.
“It’s kind of empowering to watch your child come into their own,” Lisa said. “He’s an adult, he has his own ideas. … He really thinks about these things. He may not tell you all the time, but he’s thinking about those things, and he wants to give back to those who don’t have what he has, so that they can find the opportunities and the places to get the help that they need.”
‘You can’t protect them from everything’
Harty’s desire to give back started young. When Lisa was raising her boys, picking out Christmas gifts for kids in need from angel trees at the mall was a tradition. Now, he does toy drives each year, first filling the family’s living room with gifts.
The year he signed with the Saints as a rookie undrafted free agent, Lisa would get her master’s degree in social work from University of Maryland at Baltimore. She was frustrated when she couldn’t immediately find a job, but by then, Deonte had made it to the NFL. He told her they would take care of each other.
In 2021, she went to the most notable lengths. She drove to Dallas before the hurricane, then drove to New Orleans with his younger brother. They checked on the house, got the dog and drove back to Baltimore.
“I would have done it tenfold over,” Lisa said, “because I knew he was going through so much.”
Her mother’s instinct kicked in. She asked Deonte beforehand if she should come down. He said no. She knew better.
“You could tell me no, but I know my kids,” Lisa said. “So, when you say no, you know I’m really coming. But it’s hard to work with kids, but again, you’ve got to realize that they’re grown up. You can’t protect them from everything.”
Harty also knows that there’s no way to fully eliminate the feelings people may be up against; it’s about giving them ways to cope.
The plan is to continue to host an event like this every year in the offseason. During the season, the Tay Nation Foundation will look to provide resources to student athletes who are in crisis, with a focus on connecting them to culturally sensitive and competent providers. Additionally, a partnership with Minority Women in Sports Medicine and Huddle X Action is in the words to provide training to athletic trainers and administrators to look for major signs of a mental health crisis.
In all the work, and starting with the Man Cave Alliance, Harty looks to be both honest and solutions-based in his advice.
“First, it was just understanding that it’s OK to not be OK,” Harty said. “You can’t have it all together every day. Nobody does. If that was the case, you’d be perfect. And none of us are perfect.
“So, one, just understanding that you’re gonna have bad days. And then it’s realizing that: ‘OK, this is not how I want to feel. And this is not how I should feel. So, who can I talk to?’ What friends, what family do you have in place to where they can get you out of that zone? So, really just understanding what it is that you’re going through, and then just having the right people around you.
“And then understanding like, ‘OK, I might go through something right now, but it’s not the end of the world.’ I could have a good day today; I might have a bad day tomorrow. But life is like a roller coaster. So, just understanding that not every day is going to be good. And just having the right people in place to help you get through those days, when they’re not so good.”
‘Quietly the funniest’
Lisa Harty has a request. She knows what some people say about her son, and she disagrees.
“I just want people to know that he’s not a quiet, shy guy,” Lisa said.
The word quiet still comes up when teammates and coaches talk about Harty. But it always comes with some additional context.
“He’s quietly the funniest guy on the team,” quarterback Josh Allen said of Harty. “He doesn’t say much, but when he does it’s pretty funny. He’s got a very unique personality.
“He just kind of lays low in the weeds – no pun intended, he’s not the biggest guy – but he’s awesome to be around. And as time goes on, he’s opening up more for the receiver room and this offense, and the more we can pull out of him, the better.”
Harty holds his hands to the side as he shrugs in agreement with Allen.
“That’s a very accurate statement,” Harty said. “Now, I am real quiet – I just like to absorb things. I don’t really like to say too much, but then when I see something that I think could stick, I just like to insert a little something here and there, you know?”
After signing a two-year contract with the Bills back in March, that personality is showing more and more.
“He’s got a little bit of humor to him at times,” offensive coordinator Ken Dorsey said. “He’ll mix that in.”
Coach Sean McDermott, wide receiver Gabe Davis and tight end Dawson Knox all echoed that. You don’t always hear Harty, but when you do, you’re bound to laugh.
Wide receiver Stefon Diggs, who also often advocates for athletes’ mental health in news conferences, said he hasn’t talked to Harty a ton about his camp given how busy this time of year is. Still, Diggs knows how important that work is.
“I love it. … Proud of him,” Diggs said. “Kudos to him taking those steps in the right direction, as far as like not even just as a player, but as a man in your community.”
Because Harty knows there will still be bad days ahead. But there will be plenty of good days, too. He’s ready for them all, and in Buffalo, he knows he’ll have plenty of the latter.
“It’s fun. I tell people all the time, this is probably the funnest group I’ve been around in my five years,” Harty said. “It’s fun coming to work with these guys every day.”