Amid the cacophony of 80,000 shouting fans, Tee Higgins can still hear a single voice.

It is the same voice he heard growing up in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. The same voice he heard as he packed his bags for college at Clemson University. The same voice he hears frequently offering him advice from the opposite end of his phone.

It is the voice of his mother, Camillia Stewart.

She has used her voice to encourage and to implore. She has used it to scold and to comfort. She has used it to push and to protect. On Saturdays, she uses it to cheer.

Higgins is an All-American wide receiver whose stunning catches draw deafening roars from Clemson fans. But no one screams louder for Higgins than Stewart.

“The Georgia Tech game, I was on the sideline. Defense was on the field,” Higgins said, recalling Clemson’s home opener. Even while the fans rooted on the defense, Higgins could hear Stewart’s call.

“’Teeeeee!’” Higgins mimicked with a smile. “It’s just good to see. I want to have that type of support for my child. It’s just great having that type of mother, who will come see you play anywhere and everywhere.”

Stewart works tirelessly as a home health aid in Oak Ridge, but she tries to attend all of Higgins’ games. She will travel to Arizona to watch him compete in the Fiesta Bowl College Football Playoff semifinal on Saturday.

But even when she is not present, Higgins can still hear her voice. He always carries her counsel. Her words have guided his steps, away from the hardships she faced and toward a life that maximizes his gifts.

“I always talked to him about how blessed he is from God,” Stewart said. “The talent that he has, if he doesn’t treat it with respect, God can easily take that away.”

Stewart did not offer an empty warning. She spoke from experience. Instead of attending college, playing basketball and pursuing a nursing career, Stewart surrendered her dreams to a drug addiction.

“I found myself on the wrong side of the tracks,” Stewart said. “I can’t blame anybody but myself, but I was around people I shouldn’t have been. It looked like they were having fun, so I wanted to have fun with them.”

The fun Stewart sought quickly turned into despair. She battled the binds of crack cocaine for 16 years. In 2005, the dealer she dated shot her in the head. She survived the attack and escaped that toxic relationship, but her struggles persisted for an additional two years. 

In 2007, during a four-month stretch in jail, Stewart reached her limit and reached out for help.

“It came to a point where I got tired. I wanted better. I wanted my kids to have better,” Stewart said of Higgins and his older sister KeKe. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t ask for that. So, why keep putting them through something they shouldn’t have to go through? Having my kids there to support me means everything to me. They loved me unconditionally.”

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With the help of faith and family, Stewart walked off that path of destruction. She has been stepping along the road to recovery, steady and sober, for more than 12 years.

Stewart cherished her second chance to be a mother. She became more nurturing and caring. She also became fiercely protective.

“I don’t even think you could call me a Mama Bear. You’ve got to give me another name, something a little more aggressive than that,” Stewart said with a laugh. “I’m going to tear something up.”

Stewart said, thankfully, she has not been forced to act fully on her protective instincts. But she has flashed her fangs enough to demand respect simply by reputation. As Higgins’ dazzling athleticism attracted attention from college coaches, Stewart ensured that her son would not be exploited, endangered or deceived.

“She don’t play,” Clemson coach Dabo Swinney said of Stewart. “She has done an amazing job raising him into the young man that he is, and I’m just honored that we were able to kind of take the baton from her.”

Stewart asserted that protecting her children is more than a motherly duty. It is her mission. It is an obligation of her recovery, to help her children avoid the same pain she endured.

“I wasn’t going to allow my kids to go through that,” Stewart said, holding back tears. “I may not have been a positive role model, but I was a role model to show them the way not to go. They knew what not to do.”

Stewart said Higgins embraced the message early. He quickly internalized her voice. And aside from the typical adolescent mischief and minor teenage trials, Stewart seldom had to raise her voice.

“I couldn’t ask for a better kid. He’s never given me trouble. He’s just so humble and quiet. He’s always made the right decision. I’ve never even seen him fight. I don’t even know if the kid can fight,” Stewart said with a laugh.

Stewart never envisioned her soft-spoken son would blossom into one of the most prolific receivers in Clemson history. She never imagined he would vault to the top of National Football League draft projections. She recognized he was a special athlete, but her primary focus has always been Higgins’ education.

Higgins knew that. Consequently, while he can always hear his mother’s encouraging voice, he is also driven by his own words— his vow to earn his bachelor’s degree.

“My mom, she wasn’t able to go to college,” Higgins said. “So, me and my sister made a promise to her that we both were going to get our degrees and graduate.”

KeKe graduated from Middle Tennessee State University in 2014, after leading the women’s basketball team to the NCAA Tournament. She is close to completing her second bachelor’s.

In nursing.

Higgins is on pace to graduate with a degree in sports communication. Even if he forgoes his final season of eligibility and enters the NFL draft, he can return to Clemson to complete his coursework.

“I’m being blessed through my kids,” Stewart said. “Seeing them not go through the hardship that I went through, to be able to stay focused, that’s where I get my blessings, seeing them do great.”

On Saturday in State Farm Stadium, amid the cacophony of 63,000 shouting fans, Higgins will listen for that same voice. It is a voice of strength. A voice of perseverance. A voice of reason. A voice of resolve.

It is the voice of a victor. A conqueror. A mother.

“I have to live day to day with things that affected me in my life, but I’m not going to let it hinder me and be a crutch,” Stewart said. “My past does not define the person I am today. I went through a hard period in my life. I’m not ashamed nor embarrassed. I don’t think my kids are either.

“God spared me. He brought me from a dark place. All I can do is thank God, for allowing my kids to go a different route.”