“Dad’s going to take me to Judo with him!”   I only get to watch while Dad and my younger brother John get to play. Girls aren’t allowed in judo. I really hate being a girl.

When we get to the club, Dad sticks me in the box that is used to store the mats and tells me to sit nicely and be quiet. I try, really try to sit still, but I want to play judo too. I wriggle around and fidget: then I decided that it wouldn’t really hurt anyone if I copied the exercises. I pull up my skirt to get it out of the way, spread my legs, and start to stretch just like the boys.

Grandpa notices and he looks mad. Dad walks over and stands me up, straightening my skirt, and tells me to sit and stay still, “Judo is not for girls.” I sit for a while, and then just can’t any more, and I start doing sit-ups with the class. Dad comes back over and this time, I get spanked and told “Judo isn’t lady-like and your mother would kill me- Sit.”

A few minutes later, I just have to try a summersault. I look at my dad and see him talking with Grandpa and Sensei. They are not looking my way, so I try another. Suddenly, I’m lifted out of the box and handed a pair of judo pants; “go put these on” Sensei says as he pushes me toward the bathroom.

Breathless with excitement, I run to change. When I get back to the dojo, Dad and Grandpa are waiting for me with a lecture, and wanting a promise from me. “You can’t tell your mother,” Grandpa says. He goes on to explain that if I wanted to join the class, I couldn’t tell anyone. Sensei tells me that he knows about a couple of ladies that do judo. So, if I follow all the rules and keep the secret I will be allowed to play. I’m good at keeping secrets; and this isn’t the first one Grandpa has asked me to keep.

I love the judo class; the physical exercise, the tumbling, the power of throwing someone, and the feeling of belonging, being one of the boys- almost. The secret was hard to keep from my mother and it made me sad that I couldn’t share this wonderful place where I belonged.

At home and school I tried even harder to behave like a girl. I helped with the housework, stayed indoors except when accompanying my mother on one of her walks or when I was forced to go out for recess at school. I tried to stay quiet, in the background, and be obedient.

My grandparents lived only a few blocks from our house and my brother and I often went there after school for dinner. One evening when Grandpa was watching us, John punched me, and I cried. Grandpa called me over and shook me by the shoulders, “If you are going to behave like a boy, then you better defend yourself. Either you stand up and beat him, or I will beat you.” I turned around timidly, not really sure what was expected of me, to face John who was standing there laughing. “She’s just a girl, she can’t beat me” he yelled, and I hung my head to cry harder.

Then, John pushed me, and I got mad. I wasn’t going to let him beat on me and then have to take another one from Grandpa. So I grabbed him and the fight was on. He punched me and pulled my hair. He bit and kicked and gave everything he had to hurt me. And with Grandpa yelling at me, I fought back. When he hit me, I threw him; when he kicked, I hit harder. Within a few minutes, John gave up and ran; I ran after him. I had been restrained for so long; all my anger came out, directed at my brother, the bully. I grabbed him tightly and threw him one last time, and he didn’t get up. Grandpa was cheering and I was feeling great. Then Grandma came in the room, and we were all in trouble, including Grandpa. She demanded to know what was going on and why he was telling me to fight like a boy. Grandpa gave up our secret and told her that they had let me start Judo class. He also said that he didn’t think it was right that I had to put up with being hit by my brother at home, so he made me fight back.

A little later that evening, my parents came over and they all went into the living room and John and I were banished to the back rooms. We could hear lots of yelling and upset voices, but couldn’t really tell what was being said. We did know that it was about judo. I spent the evening wondering if I would be allowed back to class. John and I fell asleep before they finished talking, and we were taken home without waking up.

When I woke the next morning my dad was very quiet and Mom was mad. She told me to fix breakfast for everyone and to get dressed nicely. After they had all eaten, I sat down to have my long hair brushed out and braided. Mom yelled at me that she wasn’t going to do that for me anymore, especially since I wanted to act like a boy. Dad herded my brother and me to his car, and told my mom that he would take care of it. I felt strange and kept running my fingers through my hair, trying to comb it out. I had never left the house without it being brushed and tied up. We pulled up in front of the barbers and got out of the car. I guessed that Dad and John were getting their hair cut like they always did. This time I was put in the barber’s chair, and Dad told the man to cut mine as short as he could without shaving it. I cried all the way through the haircut. I didn’t recognize myself when it was done.

On the way home Dad told me something that confused me. I could be in judo if I were a boy. But at home, I had to be a girl and behave like one and help my mother when she asked. The haircut was so I could remember that being a boy could only happen at judo. It seemed as if my Mom cried for weeks. She couldn’t even look at me.

I went back to Judo class that week and had the best time. I was finally allowed to participate with the boys, learning as much as them. Only occasionally would Sensei tell me that I needed to do the technique “like a girl” or sit properly “like a girl.” At home, I tried to stay out of Mom’s way, dress neatly, keep quiet, and do as I was told. I still managed to get in trouble almost every day. All it took was a flicker of expression on my face when I was told to do something, a moment too long to respond to a call, a task not completed to perfection, anything at all and she would take out Dad’s belt and start swinging it like a whip. She frequently threatened to punish me by taking my books or my other favorite possessions. I lost all access to the outdoors both, at home and for recess at school. I was not allowed to have any friends. The only thing that she didn’t threaten to take away from me was my judo class and therefore, it became my sanctuary. It was the only place I belonged and could be myself, a place of victory over my home life and my mom.

As we were getting ready for a tournament one Sunday, Dad told both John and I to bring our uniforms. When we got there, he was filling out paperwork and we both had to weigh in. We were going to compete!! John was called first and he won his match. Then I was called; my match only lasted seconds before I was declared the winner. We went back and forth this way, both of us beating every opponent. Then both John and I were called up at the same time; we would be fighting each other. This match lasted a long time. John was afraid of what would happen if he hurt me and I was afraid of what would happen if I beat him. The referee stopped the match, called us both together, and ordered us to fight “or else”. Neither of us knew what “or else” might be, so we began to fight in earnest. Just as the timer went off, I threw John and won the match.

When the awards for the tournament were given, my name was called. I had placed 1^st and would get a gold medal. I stepped up to the front of the room to receive my award. The head instructor hesitated and bent over to me to quietly ask; “Are you a girl?” I thought it was an odd question, but answered anyway, “Yes”. He said “oh, I need to talk to your instructor before I can give this to you.” I didn’t know what that meant. Dad came over and talked to the Sensei and then they announced a change to the awards. I had been disqualified- for being a girl.

My Instructor called me over to the side and told me that he needed me to meet someone. She was older, tall, and red-headed, just like me. Her name was Rusty Kanokogi; she practiced Judo in New York and had been to the Kodokan to study. I was told she had won tournaments and then had her medal taken away. We corresponded once or twice a year, for much of my childhood and she soon became a mentor as well as an example of a female judo player to me.