Shades of White PROLOGUE In third grade, I had to join a jiu-jitsu school after doctors warned me that my next asthma attack could take me if I did not strengthen my lungs. Uptown Jiu-jitsu was a few blocks from my school, making it a natural fit. After a month, I enjoyed jiu-jitsu so much that I wanted to grapple every day, yearning for more time than the twice-weekly kid’s classes offered. On a Saturday afternoon, I was running errands with my mom in Chinatown when we came across an oversized sail of jewel tones. “Look! A jiu-jitsu flag!” I shouted with excitement. The unmistakable combination of the vibrant blue and deep green colors—borrowed from the Brazilian flag1—was billowing from a second-floor window in the onshore winds, calling me in. A short, muscular Japanese man was sweeping the sidewalks. He looked up, noticing my enthusiasm. I explained that we had the same flag at my dojo. “Oh yeah? Where you train?” he asked in his thick pidgin accent. “Uptown,” I explained. He knew Uptown. He, too, had a jiu-jitsu school. “Wanna come in someday and try us out? I don’t charge fo’ try-out. You gonna like it, the reigning champion trains here, you know!?” 1 The martial arts form of jiu-jitsu originated from Brazil in the 1920s, after Brazilian Carlos Gracie was taught traditional Kodokan Judo by a traveling Japanese judoka, Mitsuyo Maeda. Carlos refined the Japanese judoka to fit smaller, lighter persons, based on utilizing one’s leverage best. It focuses on the skill of controlling one's opponent, gaining a dominant position, and using several techniques to force them into submission via joint locks or chokeholds. Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, or BJJ, became a separate, defined combat sport through the innovations, practices, and adaptation of Carlos Gracie’s sons, including Carlos Jr. and Helio. Today, an intricate governing body, the IBJJF, outlines its rules for uniform, global applications. With the end of the sales pitch, his walis-tingting broom finally stopped. He sized me up, one last time. We promised to come back and went on with our Saturday, disappearing into Chinatown’s heady smell. SHADES OF WHITE2 It was months later that I returned to that Merchant Street spot. By then, I was knee-deep in jiu- jitsu, going to every tournament. I looked for the jewel tones, downwind from the apothecary window with the rat and snake skeletons, and mounds of dried-up herbs of unknown origin, promising to bring long life. The sensei remembered my name as if we were old friends. I stayed for the practice and returned weekly to train. A few months later, my Uptown coach, Jeff Furuta3, called me into his office after practice and reprimanded me for my “breach of loyalty.” He sternly announced that I could have been “kicked out” of the school for going to another school. He claimed it was the cornerstone of Japanese culture to stay loyal. His talk caught me off guard, his words came without a precedent. I heard what he said but didn't understand a word of his. Breach of loyalty? Me? I was loyalty. Every ounce of my body craved and worshipped the sport—how could I be called a traitor, an unfaithful apostate? His explanation was curt and swift, hardly an explanation at all, more like an announcement that I “wouldn’t understand it,” because I was not Japanese. In the end, he decided to pardon me, only because I went to another Relson Gracie outfit, not some unaffiliated franchise. 2 Despite popular belief, “white” is not a color. It is the lack of color. White often—and aptly—signifies innocence, a clean slate, as is the case with novices in jiu-jitsu, who always start with white belts. “White” also commonly refers to Caucasian people. In my story, I started as a Caucasian kid with a white belt, who had no jiu-jitsu experience, no preconceived notions. Both meanings of the color “white” will come into focus during the story. 3 Jeff Furuta was the sensei, the owner of Uptown Gracie Jiu-jitsu. 2 A couple of months later, I entered the Triple Crown Championship under the auspices of both schools. When my Uptown teacher found out, he unleashed a rant about the embarrassment I had caused by competing under another school’s flag. He said no one has ever humiliated him as I had done. He did not expect me to understand it—pointing it out for the second time— because I was not Japanese. It became clear to him, at any rate, that there was no place for someone like me in their school. With an irretrievable decision wrapped in swift words, Jeff kicked me out of Uptown. Kicked. Out. I wasn't even ten years old. Barred. Expelled. Confused and hurt. I couldn't tell what I did wrong. I was either white, not Japanese, or too in love with the sport. None are a crime and none should be held against a nine-year-old. What was the genesis of these unwritten rules of loyalty? Years later, I found out that these rules date back to the original Relson Main Academy4. Prior to 2004, anyone who practiced this type of martial arts learned it from Relson himself, at his academy. Members considered themselves an Ohana5, a distinction that Relson often incorporates into his speeches6. These "brothers" are bound together by the salt and stain of their sweat, running deeper than blood. New members learn the importance of imprinting and memorializing our shared experiences during their initiation. After receiving their belt from the sensei of the school, the instructor tells them to wash the new belt to cleanse it of the factory’s chemicals. The belt will never be washed again. It will carry every drop of sweat we burn, every tear we shed, every drop of 4 Relson Gracie is the son of Helio Gracie, who was Carlos Gracie’s son. Grandmaster Helio was the one who put together all of the Gracie brothers’ moves and techniques and unified it into a cohesive and unique branch of martial arts. He refined the sport to take advantage of leverage, so younger/lighter people can successfully defend themselves against larger, older opponents. 5 Ohana means “family” in Hawaiian 6 To this day, the 69-year-old Relson Gracie travels between his jiu-jitsu franchises frequently, giving lessons and speeches to the schools. 3 blood it wicks away—ours and our opponents’—during our grappling and tournaments. It is the ultimate communal bond that represents our hard work and our commitment. Sensei promote only after the students master the skills that represent the higher belt color7. Children start with white belts and inch their way up to green. Novice adults also start with a white belt and work toward the ultimate, red belt8. To demonstrate readiness for the next level, students enter competitions, where they can earn swords for placing in the top three of their weight/age division, or the coveted belt for being the best child or adult, regardless of age and weight. This entire promotion-system centers on an intimate and rather subjective assessment process, that takes a long time. I became quite attached to my white-cum-beige9 belt that stayed with me through my first victories, first medals, and swords. Others, however, do not fare so well with the lack of objective assessments, and therein lies the problem. The sport was predominantly pursued by male practitioners in the past,10 saturated with grown men who show up after work—donning a gi11—ready to spar with other grown men until one taps the other one out. It is a friendly sport pursued for dear life. When some of the men rise to the top, earning higher belts than the rest12, a peculiar thought crosses their mind: a sense of superiority will overcome them. They are better than the rest. They know more. They fight 7 Unlike with karate—where instructors hand out belts after completing each “level” of instructions—jiu-jitsu belts must be earned. 8 Red belts are reserved "for those whose influence and fame takes them to the pinnacle of art,” according to the Gracie brothers. [Gracie, Renzo and Royler (2001). Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: Theory and Technique. Invisible Cities Press Llc. p. 304. ISBN 1-931229-08-2.] If a student received his or her black belt at the age of 19—which, in itself, is a truly exceptional accomplishment—the earliest they could expect to receive a ninth degree red belt would be at the age of 67. The 10th degree was given only to the pioneers of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and the Gracie brothers: Carlos, Oswaldo, George, Gaston, and Helio. The highest-ranking living practitioners are 9th-degree red belts, such as Relson Gracie, Helio Gracie’s son, as there are no living 10th-degree red belts today. 9 Since I started at Uptown, then transferred to Waterfront—essentially starting this observation period all over— by the time I got promoted up from my white belt, my white belt was beige, a lighter shade of brown. 10 Women are slowly entering the ranks, but the sport is predominantly male-driven, to this day. 11 The gi is the official outfit that jiu-jitsu practitioners wear, woven in white, cotton, in the pattern of a wrap-shirt top with the loose-fitting, drawstring pants. Relson Gracie’s schools only allow a white gi, but other schools often use blue or black gi for men, and pink gi for women, in addition to the traditional white gi.