Miyu Kita

Miyu Kita graduated from the Department of Life Sciences and Biotechnology, Faculty of Chemistry, Materials and Bioengineering, Kansai University. Around her fourth grade of elementary school, she was diagnosed with bilateral idiopathic sensorineural hearing loss, and wears hearing aids. In 2019, she became the first Japanese winner of the World Deaf Tennis Championships. She was the only Japanese competitor in the deaf tennis category of the Australian Open in January 2023, the first ever held at a Grand Slam event, coming fifth.

In late January this year, a deaf tennis category was included in the Australian Open for the first time, and I was the sole competitor from Japan. I had never even imagined that I would compete in a Grand Slam tournament, and even though I am the person who had won the position of Number 1 in the world, I was surprised when I received the invitation, to be honest. I realized once again that I had come to accept that I would be separated off into a “disabled” category.

In late January this year, a deaf tennis category was included in the Australian Open for the first time, and I was the sole competitor from Japan. I had never even imagined that I would compete in a Grand Slam tournament, and even though I am the person who had won the position of Number 1 in the world, I was surprised when I received the invitation, to be honest. I realized once again that I had come to accept that I would be separated off into a “disabled” category.

Even since I was diagnosed as hard of hearing around my fourth grade of elementary school, I had been confronted with my inability to accept my ears each time my hearing declined. Nowadays I do not have any hesitation about tying back my hair so that my hearing aids are visible, but I used to try desperately to hide them. I felt paranoid that if people saw them, they would think “There’s something wrong with her ears; she’s disabled.” During my high school days, I ran into communication barriers with my friends. I experienced a period of retreating into my shell because I felt that however close my friends might be, in the end, there was no-one who could understand about my hearing. After that, I became afraid to ask people to repeat themselves, and came to avoid communication with other people.

However, after entering the tennis club at university, as I interacted with the other club members through tennis, I came to realize that telling people clearly about my hearing was an important part of interpersonal relationships. There was a younger club member who learned sign language and showed it to me, and others who took off their masks even during the pandemic so that I could see their mouths when they spoke.

Thanks to those around me, I was gradually able to regain the things of which I had lost sight. I had spent all my time wishing that people would understand me; but I noticed that people were saying to me that unless I took action to tell them what I needed or wanted them to do to make things possible for me, they did not know how to reach out to me, even if they wanted to do so.

In deaf tennis, because the players cannot hear the umpire calling faults, the score or, in particular, “Out”, they often continue playing unnecessarily. There were examples of this at the Australian Open, too. If they occur even at a Grand Slam tournament, we probably need some kind of response. The team who accompanied me made the suggestion that if there were something like a wristband which communicated the calls via vibrations, it would be possible to create an environment in which athletes could concentrate without being distracted by the umpire’s calls.

I felt that the way that spectators of deaf tennis could come out with ideas like these was part of the meaning of tournaments. The opportunity to exchange opinions about what might make people who cannot hear no different from anyone else, irrespective of whether the people expressing these opinions are hearing or deaf, is one of the attractive features of deaf sports. If able-bodied people notice that devices whose development was prompted by deaf sports are convenient for them, too, this will surely become a driving force making society richer.

I think that members of minorities have many such thoughts and feelings, not limited to disability, about ways in which everyday life is hard that are difficult for those around them to notice, or things which they would like to tell people. I began work as a journalist in April, and I particularly want to capture and transmit minority voices because they have their own perspectives. There are many sports besides tennis, and many disabilities which are not hearing disabilities. By expanding my field of vision beyond “deaf” and “tennis”, and communicating what I see, I hope that more people will notice what minorities think. My objective is to hear people say “Somehow, there are more people who understand, and it is easier for me to live”, and I want to keep striving for this.

Edited and published by the Japanese Society for Rehabilitation of Persons with Disabilities. Published on May 25th, 2023.