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Growing up in my quiet yet busy suburb of New York City, my three siblings and I were surrounded by martial arts equipment, movies and activities. My father, a Wall Street lawyer, and my brother Daniel took judo lessons together every week.
In addition to traditional judo, the class provided a combination of various styles and techniques, an approach popular these days with the synthesis of different cultures and traditions.
I was always told I was too young to take classes, so I had to live vicariously through Daniel. He was never into mainstream sports and in some ways could have even been considered on the “geeky” side, but when it came to the sport of judo, he was a true success and in my eyes—a star. We would often attend these tournaments held in some big gym in a “far away land” such as Washington D.C. or Pennsylvania. My siblings, my mother and I, would watch him compete, cheering him on as a family. Judo night for my brother and father was a bonding experience. Together they worked themselves up through the ranks to black belt, though, at 17, my brother abruptly stopped to devote most of his time and energy to academics. Subsequently, his trophies, which I held in such high admiration, began to collect dust in his closet.
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