Interview with Aikido Kokikai Pittsburgh Founder Barbara Litt: Kokikai in America, Part I

For Barbara Litt, aikido was not on her mind until one of her friends invited her to try a class; and that class was led by Shuji Maruyama, Kokikai Aikido’s founder. That first class and how the community welcomed her on the mat convinced her to train. Since she has joined the Kokikai Aikido community, she has had the chance to train in many places, including Japan briefly, get to know Maruyama personally, and serve on the Aikido Kokikai Federation USA Board of Directors. Today, Litt took some time to talk about the Kokikai Aikido community, pioneers of Kokikai Aikido, and the future of the art. All images provided by Barbara Litt. This is the first part of a two part interview. Read the second part here.

Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow: Welcome Litt Sensei! Thank you for taking the time to join us!

Barbara Litt: It’s my pleasure.

MAYTT: You began training Kokikai Aikido in 1988. What were some of the factors that led you to your first aikido class?

Barbara Litt (left) at Winter Camp 2018 with Noah (right).

BL: I was introduced to Aikido through a combination of curiosity and the influence of friends already practicing the art. My initial exposure came about unexpectedly due to a carpooling arrangement with friends who practiced Aikido. At the time, I was commuting regularly between Princeton, NJ and Ithaca, NY for a long-distance relationship, and the couple my (now) husband and I commuted with had met on the mat. During one of our drives, the topic of Aikido came up, and I found myself intrigued. The turning point came soon after, when my friend mentioned that their teacher from Japan was in town (Princeton, February 1988) that evening and suggested I give it a try. This resonated with me because I had previously visited Japan and wanted to further explore Japanese culture and practices.

Having had no prior exposure to martial arts and leaning toward pacifism, I approached the experience with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. I had expected it to be intimidating and perhaps even frightening, given the martial aspect. To my surprise, I was genuinely excited by the prospect of something entirely different from anything I had done before – a feeling of stepping into the unknown, a sense of adventure and possibility. I found myself thoroughly enjoying the practice from the very first class. It was exhilarating – a mix of physical and mental stimulation, fun, and challenge. I had unknowingly been yearning for something like Aikido in my life. 

My journey into Aikido, begun for social reasons, continued with my friend quitting just a few weeks after my initiation. While their departure initially disappointed me, it ultimately didn’t deter me from pursuing my newfound passion for Aikido.

MAYTT: That is actually ironic. To clarify, the teacher coming from Japan was Shuji Maruyama?

BL: Yes, the teacher was Sensei. In the course of the class, he stopped by my corner of the mat and asked me why I was practicing. He was asking about my motivation, but at the time I didn’t know how to answer, and said honestly, “because my friends invited me.” I distinctly recall the expansive big blue mat and the overwhelmingly welcoming atmosphere, with everyone being incredibly kind and supportive. But honestly, most of the details from that first encounter are hazy.

MAYTT: What was it about that first class with Sensei that made you realize that this is what you wanted to do?

BL: At the time, after that initial class, I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I felt an urge to return. The experience was undeniably physical, drawing on my background in dance and gymnastics, which made the rolling component feel familiar and less daunting. Yet, what truly captivated me was sheer enjoyment – the sense of mutual engagement, the immersion in the present moment. While self-defense hadn’t been at the forefront of my mind, there was an implicit recognition of its practicality, but my primary motivation was simply the joy of the practice and a sense of personal enrichment. I had no idea of the wonders to come, but as a shy person uncomfortable asserting myself, I had an inkling that this could help me. 

Initially, my attraction to Aikido was casual – a chance to spend time with friends, meet new people, and enjoy a fulfilling activity. However, as I continued to practice and interacted with fellow practitioners, my appreciation deepened. I was drawn further into the philosophy and techniques of Aikido, gradually uncovering its profound impact on both my physical and mental well-being. As I delved deeper into the practice and witnessed the changes it brought about in me, my commitment grew stronger. It wasn’t just about the physical exercise or the social aspect anymore; it became a journey of self-development that continues to inspire and motivate me, though for many decades it’s been less about me and more about sharing with others.

As for Sensei, Sensei was the reason I got on the mat that first night, but it took some time for me to appreciate his teachings. I didn’t know who or what I was seeing when I saw him for the first time. It was just my good luck to be exposed to him that February. But when he came back in July and I saw him at summer camp, I had been training for a few months. It had more meaning, and I was scared of him.

MAYTT: At the Camp, how would you describe the training you experienced?

BL: My first camp was 1988 Summer Camp at Rutgers University. I was focused on trying to participate fully, and I was a white belt, so people helped me a lot. Sensei would show a technique, say something about it, and we’d all practice. I tried my best to watch and listen, but I couldn’t understand much and felt overwhelmed. My partners were helpful, as were people off the mat. We all stayed in dorms. My roommate was an advanced practitioner from another dojo. She was friendly and gave me helpful advice on getting through camp safely. One strong impression from that camp was advanced testing. Several of my seniors tested for first kyu or shodan. I was shocked and awed. At the time I thought, “I could never do that,” but I hoped someday I’d be able to.

A few camps later (1990 Summer Camp), I found myself hanging out with several Japanese students who had come with Sensei to camp. Sensei spoke to me a little, saying, “face not beautiful.” I was offended, and thought that was none of his business, but of course I kept that to myself. Later (1996 Summer Camp) he said, “face better since baby.” I realized he wasn’t talking about physical beauty. This was a reminder for me to mature and prioritize what truly matters, especially as a parent. More recently, at an instructor’s meeting (likely 2018 Summer Camp), he told everyone there, “Kokikai Aikido can make Barbara Litt beautiful.” I think that’s a beauty that comes from self-acceptance, self-confidence, getting outside one’s head and connecting with others. 

At camps, Sensei would often introduce a theme or catchphrase to focus our training, such as “improve your quality.” Actually, this is a recurring theme at all camps. It encapsulates the essence of our practice – to consistently refine and elevate our skills, whether it’s mastering familiar techniques like shiho nage or integrating Aikido principles into our daily lives. 

MAYTT: How have you seen Kokikai Aikido change or evolve since you first started in 1988?

BL: One of my favorite Sensei sayings is, “When I stop growing, ready for coffin.” It reflects his philosophy of constant evolution, always seeking to improve techniques for minimum effort and maximum effect. Over the years, I’ve witnessed numerous changes in how we approach a technique, with Sensei continually adapting and refining our methods. This ongoing pursuit of effectiveness and efficiency leads to constant progression and evolution within our practice. We experience various phases and approaches as he researches this. 

For example, one memorable phase is what I refer to as the “kiss the mat” period. (Or was it, “kiss Matt”? Sensei loves to joke!) Not necessarily my favorite period, it involved experimenting with taking an attacker’s balance so completely that as an intermediate step they ended up face into the mat before they could attempt to get up, only to be met with the formal execution of the throw when they tried. However, even during developments that posed challenges or pushed us out of our comfort zones, Sensei’s guidance and dedication to growth have ultimately propelled us forward. These adjustments have often addressed specific challenges I’ve encountered along my journey, enabling me to overcome obstacles and continue to progress.

In terms of teaching methods, I have noticed changes over time. As Sensei gets older, there’s a growing sense of urgency in his communication. He’s become more explicit in his instruction, emphasizing clarity to ensure that we grasp his points thoroughly. I distinctly recall an instance when he hiked up his hakama to demonstrate footwork, underscoring its importance. Such explicit instruction has become more common, reflecting Sensei’s commitment to ensuring our understanding.

While the core principles remain constant, there have been adjustments to the curriculum over the years. Certain techniques have been removed from the canon of Kokikai techniques, deemed too prone to injury, or simply ineffective. While students might still practice riskier techniques in their home dojos, they’re no longer part of our official practice at camp or during rank testing. These changes, though few in number, reflect the importance of preserving the safety and integrity of our training environment.

In terms of new developments in our practice, it’s challenging for me to pinpoint specific additions. There are times when techniques or concepts arise that I’ve not encountered before, but I don’t know whether they’re genuinely new or just new to me. The essence of our training remains consistent.

The most significant change in our training dynamic has been the recent absence of Sensei’s physical presence in the United States. Before the pandemic, he would visit three times a year, spending at least a month each time, providing invaluable guidance, instruction, and inspiration. However, in March of 2020, his visits ceased, and it’s uncertain when or whether they will resume. Consequently, camps and seminars are now led by his senior students, marking a notable departure from our previous training structure.

Despite these changes, the core focus of our practice remains unchanged: to continually cultivate and deepen our grasp of the Aikido Kokikai basic principles through the practice of effective self-defense techniques and apply to daily life. Sensei has always emphasized the importance of maintaining and enhancing the quality of our techniques and principles. Even when we feel confident in our abilities, there’s always room for improvement, both on and off the mat.

MAYTT: With Maruyama living in Japan and traveling back and forth and the recent pandemic interrupting that, how have you seen American Kokikai Aikido change or evolve without his regular guidance since the lockdown from the pandemic?

BL: First let me address other impacts of the pandemic on our practice, apart from missing Sensei. 

Initially, there was a transition to online training via Zoom, a difficult adjustment for all of us. Despite their limitations, I found Zoom seminars to be surprisingly beneficial. They provided a unique opportunity to learn from senior students, some of whom I hadn’t taken class from previously. While practicing Aikido virtually is far from ideal, there was a renewed focus on fundamentals during these sessions. I noticed improvements in my balance, ki exercises, and posture, attributable to concentrated attention on basics.

Moreover, Zoom sessions facilitated connections with fellow practitioners from around the world, expanding my Aikido community. The global Kokikai Aikido community embraced this virtual platform as a means of maintaining continuity in training. I also found it meaningful to connect over Zoom with individual Aikidoka who were geographically or otherwise isolated during the pandemic. A long-time Aikidoka from another style who joined my Zoom class and now practices with me regularly recently remarked that the pandemic gave her the courage to switch dojos.

Amid the challenges posed by the pandemic, practitioners demonstrated inspiring resilience and adaptability. Many instructors experimented with innovative teaching methods, devising exercises that could be done solo or with minimal equipment. My own group moved outside, meeting weekly in a local park to practice weapons kata and techniques. Once we took ukemi in the snow, which added a delightful if slippery element of fun.

The absence of in-person dojo training was a great loss. It was over a year and a half of navigating uncharted territory. The pandemic led to the closure of many dojos, resulting in (or due to) a significant loss of students and disruptions to regular practice. I saw my dojo’s attendance dwindle, with only two students regularly practicing by the end of the pandemic. However, I’m heartened to see individuals gradually returning as restrictions ease. Many familiar faces are reappearing at camps, rekindling connections that were dormant for years. We’re making strides in reviving our community and rebuilding our practice spaces. The creativity and dedication of instructors ensured that the spirit of Aikido persevered.

It was certainly challenging to navigate the impact of the pandemic on our community. The initiatives put in place by the Aikido Kokikai Federation USA, established in 2016 at Sensei’s request, have been essential, in my opinion. As a board member, I’ve witnessed firsthand how these measures have been instrumental in sustaining Kokikai practice in the USA and preparing us for the future. Through collaborative efforts, we’ve developed frameworks for organizing camps, encouraging consistency among instructors, and focusing on teaching essential elements that uphold the quality of our art. Also, the AKFUSA now implements rank testing in the US.

During the pandemic period of adaptation, one positive development has been the availability of videos featuring Sensei, which were made accessible to AKFUSA members – a resource we hadn’t previously had access to. While Sensei is quite discerning about the dissemination of his teachings and limits the recording of his techniques, there’s a concerted effort within our community to share his story more widely. We recognize the importance of showcasing Sensei’s legacy and contributions to Aikido, especially given the scarcity of publicly available content featuring him.

Moving forward, our focus remains on continuing the progress we’ve made post-pandemic. Key to this is prioritizing camps and seminars, which serve as vital opportunities for growth and learning within the Kokikai tradition. 

MAYTT: Since 2021, you have served on the Aikido Kokikai Federation USA Board of Directors. What are some of the future plans or goals of Kokikai Aikido in the next ten to fifteen years?

BL: In terms of projecting the future of Kokikai Aikido in the United States, I need to make it clear that I’m speaking as an individual, not as a member of the board. However, looking ahead over the next decade or so, I believe three key priorities should be (1) further developing the organizational capabilities of AKFUSA – we’re still in our infancy, (2) further elevating the level of instruction among our dojo leaders and instructors – our current levels are commendable and there’s always room for growth, particularly in attracting more students and ensuring quality instruction through regular camps, seminars, and mentoring, and (3) developing a clearer public, online presence.

One aspect that I find increasingly pertinent is the issue of age within our community. At present, many dojos, including mine, have a significant proportion of older practitioners. It’s natural for people who love Aikido to keep practicing, sharing their wisdom and experience. It’s essential to appeal to new students and younger generations as well. A key goal of mine is to train someone to succeed me as head instructor of Aikido Kokikai Pittsburgh. Realistically, that’s not going to be someone who is my generation or older. I had a student, Noah, beloved by all who knew him. He might have been the one, but he died of cancer in 2019 at age thirty-five.

Moreover, I’m committed to fostering inclusivity within my own practice and instruction. While Aikido as a martial art may not explicitly prioritize inclusivity, I believe it’s crucial for our community to actively strive for it. Every person who wants to practice Aikido should be welcomed and accommodated to the best of our ability, regardless of their background or circumstances. I welcomed Richard as my student in 2017. He had multiple physical and mental health challenges, as well as being dependent on state assistance. I ended up teaching him in my “home dojo” (our living room) because he needed private lessons, often had to cancel with little advance notice, and couldn’t afford to pay. He sought me out after being told by another local Aikido instructor that he couldn’t practice Aikido. At our first meeting Richard told me I would learn as much from him as he would learn from me, and he was right. I could see how much his Aikido practice helped improve his quality of life. But it wasn’t a cure-all, and he passed too soon, in 2022.

Expanding the reach of Aikido, both in terms of attracting new students and preserving its essence for future generations, is something I’m passionate about. It’s a practice that has enriched my life immeasurably, and I see it as a precious gift that I’m eager to share with others. 

MAYTT: I hope that Kokikai Aikido can recoup from this past pandemic and raise that quality.

BL: Thank you. I believe we’re on our way.

MAYTT: What part of Maruyama’s story resonates with you that you really want to see out there in the public for them to know about him?

BL: The article “The Silent Pioneer” by Gaku Homma, resonates deeply with me; it’s a beautiful and moving narrative that I recently revisited. Sensei’s journey, growing up in post-war Japan, finding Aikido, eventually relocating to Akita, and then to the US, is both fascinating and inspiring. While the article provides insights into Sensei’s upbringing and early Aikido experiences, I’d like to know more of his life story. Exploring Sensei’s biography and his evolution within Aikido would provide valuable context to understand the development of Kokikai and its unique approach to the art. While my own Aikido practice started long after Sensei’s early years, I’m eager to uncover more about his experiences and the influences that shaped his distinctive perspective on Aikido. 

I would also like to help document what Kokikai Aikido is and what it means to those who practice it. One significant responsibility I had was to organize part of our celebrations of Sensei’s 45th and 50th anniversaries of bringing Aikido to the US, marking his seminal start in Cleveland. In 2018, we held a commemorative event for him in Princeton, a tradition that had been upheld every five years for some time. My role involved gathering written testimonials from individuals to be shared during the events. After the 2013 celebration, Sensei deemed the testimonials too lengthy to be read aloud, prompting a change in approach.

Litt (left) with Shuji Maruyama (right) in 2015.

For the 2018 celebration, I collected testimonials from dojo leaders and other students, focusing on the themes, “What Sensei’s Aikido means to me” or “How Kokikai Aikido has impacted my life.” These testimonials were intended as expressions of gratitude and reflections to share with Sensei and the wider community. Each submission was limited to one page or less. To streamline the process, I compiled the testimonials into a book and presented it to Sensei, sparing him from having to listen to them all during the ceremony. I was tasked with selecting a handful of testimonials to read aloud during the event, however, all the testimonials are preserved and available, and I’m considering publishing them, perhaps online. They offer valuable insights into the profound impact Sensei and Kokikai Aikido have had on individuals’ lives.

On a different topic, in 2010, I embarked on a small research project motivated by my work as a university Japanese culture instructor. I wanted to do a project similar to what I require my students to do. My research focused on comparing opinions about the societal roles of Aikido and martial arts in the US and Japan, posing questions about their respective influences. To gather data, I conducted surveys and interviews with Kokikai practitioners in both countries.

The interviews, though not meticulously controlled, provided valuable insights, despite often taking place in noisy, crowded settings, more resembling casual conversations. Participants shared memorable perspectives on their practice and the broader societal implications of martial arts. Additionally, I utilized online surveys to collect data from practitioners in the US and Australia, intending to do the same in Japan. However, Sensei doubted the effectiveness of online surveys, so the Japanese surveys were done on paper, after practices. Despite the challenges and limitations of the research process, the data gathered provided valuable insights into the multifaceted roles of Aikido and martial arts in society and for individuals.

I received numerous responses from practitioners during my research endeavor. I often present the project to my university students as an example, but I have yet to publish my findings. It’s not the type of material I would typically submit to an academic journal. I’ve contemplated its release, though I hesitate to do so while Sensei is still with us. Although he gave me his approval to proceed with the research, I’m uncertain whether he would appreciate the intellectual analysis of the differences between US and Japanese Kokikai Aikido.

An interesting aspect that emerged from the research is the perception of Sensei among his Japanese and American students. Interestingly, his Japanese students tended to view him as American, while his American students tended to view him as Japanese, reflecting his unique cultural hybridity. This duality contributes to a sense of isolation, as he’s often perceived as different in both countries. Despite my knowledge being limited to his professional life, the “Silent Pioneer” article hints at the complexities of his personal journey, which I find intriguing.

The research also uncovered surprising similarities in Aikido practice between the US and Japan. Contrary to my initial expectations, the notion of “No pain, no gain” wasn’t prevalent in either country. Instead, practitioners on both sides emphasized the enjoyment and fulfillment derived from practice, highlighting its demanding yet inherently enjoyable nature. This revelation challenged my preconceptions and provided valuable insights into the motivations driving Aikido practitioners across different cultures.

It’s worth noting that responses to my research questions were consistent across various regions, including Japan, Australia, and the US. This consistency underscores the universality of certain Aikido principles and the shared experiences of practitioners worldwide. While I remain undecided on how to publish the findings, I’m inclined to share them with the broader community in due course.

This is the first part of a two part interview. Read the second part here.

To learn more about aikido and its history in America, click here.

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