During my introductory session, my therapist hit me with one of the most common questions for mental health you could possibly hear: “How often are you exercising?” Every day,” I responded — because once a week is basically every day to me.
Yes, physical activity is great for one’s mental wellbeing and believe me, I’ve held myself more accountable since then. When I heard this, I couldn’t help but think of those who no longer have the luxury of exercising to supplement their mental health.
Of course, when somebody becomes really good at exercising, they can actually turn it into a career; which feels unreal. But what happens when the very thing that sustains them becomes the cause of their mental detriments?
They become a spectacle for the world to psychoanalyze—publicly and ill-informedly.
Read more: 9 Asian North American athletes we’re excited about
Naomi Osaka in the spotlight
Naomi Osaka was born for greatness. In 2018 at the ripe age of twenty, Osaka became the first tennis player from Japan to ever win a Grand Slam title. Over the course of the next couple of years, she would maintain her dominance and eventually claim the number one spot in the Women’s Tennis Association rankings.
Fast-forward to 2021 at The French Open and Osaka is making headlines once again, but this time not for her performance. She’d decided to pull-out — forego one of the biggest tournaments in the world, in favor of her mental health.
The immediate response was largely unpleasant, and perhaps magnified by the culture of Japan. As a country often defined by discipline and stoicism, it was challenged by somebody looking to set a new precedent.
Our Culture in the Name of Sport
There are many cultural nuances the Asian diaspora carries into athletic competition. It’s important to acknowledge that not all of them are positive. In fact some even contribute to the feeling many of us have become all too familiar with in the COVID-era: “burn out.”
One of these nuances that’s made its way into sport is the necessity for perfection. Many of us are taught from a young age that no matter what we want to do, we must put our heads down, take the utmost honor, and work until reaching an objective success. And once we reach whatever the “success” may be, we keep going. But from a cultural perspective, when do we entertain satisfaction and enjoy the fruits of our labor?
Upholding this belief system maintains a potential for danger, perhaps even more so when viewed through the lens of professional athleticism.
The Cold, Hard Truth
A Human Rights Watch study conducted in 2020 found widespread cases of systemic corporal punishment in Japanese sports — known as taibatsu. Unfortunately, instances as such can be found all across Asia, and when coupling these findings with a historic stigmatization of mental health, our people are destined to continue the cycle.
Unless of course there are people like Naomi Osaka.
When Naomi Osaka took that stance, it represented so much more than just self-care. She took the first steps in breaking generational trauma amongst the Asian diaspora, all for the world to see. She showed that it’s okay not to be stoic. That it’s okay not to be perfect. That it’s okay not to be okay.
Read more: Cultivating a space for Asian mental health conversations
A Light at the End of the Tunnel
Sports aren’t exactly synonymous with the Asian diasporic experience, but they’re clearly still something we care very deeply about. I mean c’mon, how could you not be passionate about South Korea and Japan’s recent performances in the World Cup?
There’s a lot of emphasis placed on winning in sports, but clearly winning is not the only measure of achievement. Again, take South Korea and Japan for example. To be frank, they didn’t come close to winning the World Cup, but in the eyes of many, they certainly achieved.
When we as a community can reclaim our response to imperfection, and shift our measure of achievement to that of self-improvement and fulfillment, our relationship with mental health will begin to improve.
Reckoning with mental health despite it all
Sports are great because they are full of these imperfections. They are full of unpredictability, and unfathomably amplified for those talented enough to call it a career.
That’s why I still feel pain for Naomi Osaka. Because she’d become a martyr for a response that we need to encourage more of. At the end of the day, for most of us, sports are games—an escape from our stresses—and it’s our responsibility as both participants and an audience not to give them any more power than that.
Now let’s go get some exercise, it’s good for you.
