The separation of immigrant parents and their children at the U.S.-Mexico border this summer was one of those moments when Norman could not turn away. He flew to San Antonio, spent the wee hours of a midweek June morning filling Walmart shopping carts with toys, books and book bags, and then delivered the assorted items to those children. Still, Norman was disappointed.

“We all see it, but nobody’s moving to action,” he said in a quiet moment after a recent practice. “And to be honest with you, I would actually like to have done more. . . . Because it was needed.”

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As he embarks on his seventh pro season, Norman acknowledges a personal transformation. After years spent irritating opponents with his unrelenting brashness and seeking to become the NFL’s highest-paid cornerback, his priorities have changed.

At 30, Norman has found a voice and a mission of a different kind. He is a member of the Players Coalition, and he refuses to let anyone — President Trump, especially — define the limits of his platform.

“You want to say that I can’t speak on any other issues but watching football games, then you should turn your effin’ channel,” the Washington cornerback said, with a chuckle, his words dripping with a South Carolina drawl. “’Cause ain’t no way in heck you’re going to tell me, as a person, as a tax-paying citizen, any differently. I have more than enough rights to say whatever the heck I feel like saying. As long as I pay taxes, you can’t tell me anything.”

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The war of words over patriotism and the role of athletes in the discussion of social justice rages on with no end in sight, and as the 2018 NFL season gets underway, players appear to have two choices: Ignore the inflammatory rhetoric led by the president or soften their public stance for fear of continued reprisal.

For Norman, the decision is easy.

While he has not chosen to kneel or raise a fist during the pregame playing of the anthem, Washington’s most recognizable defender expresses unwavering support for the players who have and continue to do so.

“The crazy part about it is: They’re not even protesting the flag itself,” Norman said. “It’s not a disrespect to the military or to the armed forces or the service members who do their job daily to keep us safe. It’s towards the tyranny and the things that are going on in the United States and the person who’s actually behind it all, governing this whole thing.”

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In a movement composed of varying voices, motives and methods, Norman is just one of hundreds of NFL players aiming to exact change in his own way.

Making a difference

Norman reclines on a sofa, still in uniform, saturated in sweat. Legs outstretched, he massages his furrowed brows. A two-hour training camp practice in the dead of summer has taken a physical toll. But as he opens up about his personal struggles and growth, it becomes clear that finding the solution to serving others is an equally draining exercise.

Before his impromptu trip to San Antonio this offseason, he donated $100,000 and raised an additional $150,000 over a two-week period to assist residents of Puerto Rico after the island was ravaged by Hurricane Maria last fall. Half of his initial pledge went to the Boys & Girls Clubs of Puerto Rico. In honor of his fundraising efforts, Norman was named a “community MVP” by the NFL Players Association, which made a $10,000 contribution to a charity of his choice.

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Last summer, Norman’s Starz24 Foundation raised money to provide middle school students in the District with backpacks and school supplies and raised nearly $100,000 for additional outreach programs.

But Norman doesn’t want credit. He wants help.

The giver always existed within him, but his reach rarely extended beyond his nonprofit efforts in his hometown of Greenwood, S.C.

“It wasn’t going out of the way and helping people in Puerto Rico, helping people in Texas, helping people in Mexico,” he said. “It wasn’t that type of Josh.”

In his words, “Early Josh” — the Coastal Carolina walk-on who became a fifth-round NFL draft pick — was a “young fire-head” who was “95 percent” driven by making a name for himself on the field. Over time, he said, his focus shifted.

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“That excites me. Like, it really makes my day making someone else’s day,” said Norman, who signed a five-year, $75 million deal with Washington in 2016. “You never know who you’re touching. . . . But one thing you do know is, you’ve helped that person out in life, one time, out of however many years they’ve been living. And that right there is what it’s all about.”

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His spur-of-the-moment trip to Texas with New Orleans Saints linebacker Demario Davis was born out of that same purpose. But Norman can’t mask the frustration that comes with the limits of his reach.

“I was only there for a day and a half trying to get everything together. It worked out, but still,” he said, visibly frustrated. “I can only help so many. Hell, people like that are in need of help, and they’re struggling. So why not help them?”

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Norman cited a Bible verse from the book of Luke: “For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.”

He then smiled and said: “For me to be so successful and have what I have, it seems like I want to give it all away.”

Taking a stand

A broader worldview often comes at a cost, however. Players such as Norman often have been reminded to stay in their lanes.

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After Trump referred to any player who didn’t stand for the national anthem as a “son of bitch” and indicated such a player should be fired, Norman and Redskins teammates linked arms before their game Sept. 24 against the Oakland Raiders last season. The gesture, Norman said, had a simple yet strong message: “You can’t break us.”

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The veteran corner anticipates more divisive comments this season — not only from Trump but from a subsection of fans who believe sports figures have no place in political discourse. But Norman won’t waste much energy on Trump.

“Personally, I’m just going to ignore the guy. Period. For me to even look at him and take him serious — Me? Protesting him?” Norman asks, incredulously. “I’m going around in circles. I’m really going around in circles. What am I going to affect with him?”

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Instead, there is a far more important question on his mind, one that won’t be answered for two more years.

“What am I going to affect in 2020?” Norman asks, referring to the next presidential campaign. “That’s when I’m going to be an effect.”

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“He’s been dividing people since he first ran,” he continues on Trump, “so why would you not think that when he gets in office he would do the same thing?”

As a member of the Players Coalition — which was founded by Philadelphia Eagles safety Malcolm Jenkins and former NFL wide receiver Anquan Boldin — Norman is committed to assisting the group’s efforts to combat police brutality and racial injustice.

“I’m just the doorkeeper,” he said with a smile. “I’m a servant to those guys. I’m just here to help.”

Norman is tasked with helping to organize a Players Coalition listen-and-learn event on educational reform in D.C. within the next few months, but the NFL schedule presents challenges for the group, which he said now consists of 12 players. Asked why he has never shown interest in being “the face” of the movement, Norman insisted he’s content being in the background.

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“I feel like, if you’re the face of something, you have to be dedicated to that 100 percent. And, me, I’m like a wild card, man,” joked the cornerback, whose chaotic summer included cross-country trips to Los Angeles during a four-week stint on “Dancing With the Stars,” as well as a sojourn to Jerusalem. “For me to be 100 percent dedicated to just one task, it’s going to pull me away from other things that other people need help in doing.

“And who knows? Maybe one day, once some of those things go away, I could be the head of the NFLPA. I could do something with the league office. I have so many avenues I want to pursue.”

For now, though, his mission beyond football is simple.

“I just want to push forward on this agenda: Helping others get to the top,” he said.

Some football fans will always see him as nothing more than an entertainer. But Norman remains undeterred.

“You can’t change their minds,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “They’re far gone.”