A’ja Wilson was tall and getting taller. Her dad was a former basketball player, so it seemed natural for her to follow in his big footsteps and join the sport. At least, it seemed natural to everyone else. A’ja wasn’t so sure about basketball yet.

On weekend mornings, while she slept cozily in bed, her dad would appear in her doorway hollering “rise and shine!” expecting her to join him at the gym. But working out? Ugh. And basketball? No thanks! A’ja pulled a pillow over her ears and tried to go back to dreaming.

Knowing now that A’ja is not only a basketball star but a rookie of the year-, Olympic gold medalist-, three-time WNBA MVP-, Nike-shoe-named-after-her kind of basketball star, it might be shocking to hear that her dreams didn’t always include basketball. But as a kid, A’ja didn’t feel like she was good at sports. And she hated to sweat! She didn’t know yet where she fit in, but she sure didn’t think it was going to be on the court.

Lucky for the rest of us though, it was only a matter of time before basketball found her.

I’m Eva Wilson, A’ja’s mother. And this is Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls. A fairy tale podcast about the real-life rebel women who inspire us.

On this episode, my daughter, A’ja Wilson: record-crushing basketball star who uses her platform to inspire other girls to achieve their dreams.

As a kid in the 90s, A’ja went to her Grandma Hattie’s house every single day. She’d fix her grandma coffee and help out with chores, then they’d work on epic building block projects, making copies of their city, Columbia, South Carolina or building trees like the gorgeous ones lining the street outside. While they snapped together the tiny blocks, Grandma Hattie told A’ja stories.

Grandma Hattie described being a young girl in the 1920s and wanting to take a shortcut home from the grocery store through the University of South Carolina campus. Her bags were heavy and it would have saved her time. But USC was one of the last universities in the United States to admit Black students– it was a segregated school all the way until 1962! Because little Grandma Hattie was Black, she wasn’t even able to walk across the USC campus. She had to go the long way around.

When A’ja’s dad headed to college in the late 1960s, USC wasn’t a possibility for him either– there had never been a Black player on USC’s basketball team. A’ja was heartsick hearing about the racism her family members had experienced.

Despite it all, A’ja’s family worked hard to make a good life for themselves, and made sure A’ja had lots of opportunities.

At school, she daydreamed about writing a book one day. But letters seemed to swim and jumble across the pages of her textbooks. A’ja processed language differently from other kids, a learning disorder called dyslexia. A specialist suggested she might learn better in smaller classes, so her parents sent her to a private school. There weren’t many other Black kids at her new school, but A’ja had no problem making friends with the white kids.

Until one day, in fourth grade. A friend had a birthday party coming up and it was all anyone could talk about. A’ja pictured giggle-fests and pillow fights. She couldn’t wait!

Before the party, though, the birthday girl pulled her aside. She wanted A’ja at the party, the girl said, but she would have to sleep outside. A’ja was shocked as her friend explained that her father didn’t like Black people and didn’t want her sleeping in the house. What!

After telling her parents what happened, A’ja begged her dad not to confront her friend’s father. She didn’t want to feel any more different at school. But after that, she did feel more different. She realized that the racism her father and grandmother had experienced wasn’t in the past—it was still all around her: in the Confederate flags flying from government buildings in her state, in the way her classmates thought their one Black teacher was mean, even in the way people looked at her.

A’ja found solace in the love and safety of her parents and grandparents. Her grandmother’s example in particular meant the world to her. She got to see a strong Black woman in action every day. And she vowed to be a strong Black woman herself.

In a world where she always felt a little out of place, A’ja needed an activity where she could express herself fully. Ballet didn’t work for her. Soccer and volleyball were not quite right either.

When she was ten, she finally gave in to her dad’s urging and tried basketball. She walked onto the court, the only girl in a sea of boys that clearly didn’t want her there. A’ja almost turned right around… until she got the big orange ball in her hands and a straight line to the basket. A surge of energy filled her body. She dribbled, fast as lightning. She was a natural! She was midair in a jump shot before she realized…wait, this was the wrong basket. And then… she missed. She sat down right under the basket and cried.

Okay, so that first experience was a disaster. But in seventh grade, A’ja had a growth spurt. Suddenly, she was a head taller than everyone else. Even she could acknowledge that she should give basketball another try. In that brief moment on the court, she’d loved dribbling, loved picking up speed across the floor– she’d felt like a cheetah! So, she joined a recreation basketball team, and a travel league that her dad started.

Even with her dad as coach, though, success didn’t come right away. In fact, A’ja barely needed to wash her jersey after games— she got so little play that it seemed as fresh as when she started. And her other problems were still there, just with a new twist. At school, she was the only Black girl. But on her basketball team, the other Black girls judged her for going to such a white school. Either way, she stood out.

Basketball became the thing that gave A’ja purpose and belonging. With a ball in her hand, things made more sense. Once A’ja threw herself into the sport, she got better and better.

At age 16, A’ja’s hard work paid off with an invitation to try out for the USA Basketball Junior National Team. Rather than being happy, though, A’ja freaked out. Everything was about to change…right when things had fallen into place. The team traveled the world, literally and figuratively going way out of A’ja’s comfort zone, away from her old teammates, her family, and everything she knew.

A’ja thought, “I [have] the whole world in front of me, and all I [want] to do [is] lay in bed underneath my covers.” Her parents understood her worries. If she didn’t want to take this opportunity, she didn’t have to. They’d support her, whatever she chose.

But A’ja was brave. She was resilient! She was trying everyday to be a strong, confident woman, just like her grandma.

So, when it came time to decide, A’ja chose basketball.

Colleges all across the country tracked A’ja’s skyrocketing basketball career and soon, she accumulated two giant crates of recruitment letters. She decided to “make history in her own backyard” and chose the school down the road, the University of South Carolina.

At USC, she would be playing on a full scholarship for Dawn Staley, a powerful woman coach and former player herself. At the very same school where her grandmother couldn’t set foot on campus, where her dad couldn’t play on the all white team, A’ja was not only welcome, but embraced.

A’ja’s new team became her family, a group of women who celebrated and accepted her for who she was. They supported each other through the highs and lows of both basketball and life. And when one very low came, the loss of A’ja’s grandmother, her team was there. Coach Staley helped A’ja find a therapist to take care of her mental health, and gave her time to grieve. And when A’ja looked up at the funeral, the entire team had come to support her.

With her team by her side, A’ja went on to have a record-breaking college basketball career. By the time she graduated, she was the all-time top scorer in USC women’s basketball history. She’d never felt so powerful.

And A’ja kept thriving! In 2018, the WNBA’s Las Vegas Aces announced A’ja Wilson as their number one pick. People everywhere buzzed about her amazing skills… and her confident outspokenness.

When A’ja saw racism and sexism in her sport, she bravely called it out. Whether it was Black girls getting called aggressive, or male players getting paid significantly more, there were inequalities in basketball that A’ja couldn’t ignore. And people recognized her for talking about important issues. Basketball player Lebron James even called her a “Rookie with a Voice.”

A’ja’s talent, dedication, and power on the court earned her two Olympic gold medals and multiple World Cup and Championship titles. In 2020, 2022, and 2024, she was named the WNBA Most Valuable Player. And in 2024 she also became the first player to score one thousand points in a single WNBA season.

When Coach Staley shared that A’ja’s alma mater was going to erect a bronze statue of her at USC, A’ja couldn’t believe it. A statue of her? But then she realized, this statue was a symbol of something larger than herself. A’ja said, “The statue…it’s not about me. It’s about us. It’s about all the little girls who are going to walk across that campus [and] remember the feeling of seeing a young Black woman immortalized in bronze on that campus.” Once again, Aja’s family had found a place at the University of South Carolina to belong.

Alongside all her basketball success, A’ja made another lifelong dream come true. Adapting to work with her learning disability, she wrote the book she’d always wanted to write. She surprised readers who knew her as an MVP by referring to herself as the “Queen of Mediocre.” She wanted to show that “you don’t come out of the womb perfect.” Her book, DEAR BLACK GIRLS: HOW TO BE YOU, became a New York Times best seller.

A’ja Wilson has made history—all across the world, but maybe even more importantly, in her own backyard. With her parents by her side, her grandmother in her heart, and an orange ball in her hands, she has become the strong Black woman she always wanted to be.

This podcast is a production of Rebel Girls. It’s based on the book series Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls.

This episode was narrated by ME, Eva Wilson, A’ja’s mother. It was produced and directed by Haley Dapkus, with sound design and mixing by Mumble Media.

The story was written by Nicole Haroutunian. Fact checking by Lauren Brown West-Rosenthal. Our intern was Arianna Griffiths. Our executive producers were Joy Smith and Jes Wolfe.

Original theme music was composed and performed by Elettra Bargiacchi.

A special thanks to A’ja Wilson and the whole Rebel Girls team, who made this podcast possible! Until next time, staaaay rebel!