November 18, 2004
UW research technologist is karate king
Toshiaki Namiki takes the hand of his friend and colleague Sharon Lindsey, and places it on top of her head. He asks her to keep her hand up there no matter what. He’s proving a point.
Smiling, he reaches out to remove her hand, but she’s focused on him and resists, so it stays put. But then he distracts her; she looks away for an instant — and in a blur Namiki’s hand pops out and dislodges hers. A minute later, he does it again.
His point? That the mental, spiritual and physical aspects of life are intertwined, and that concentration can be more powerful than brute force. It’s one of a number of dualities Namiki points out in conversation, though he doesn’t use that exact word because his English is still a work in progress. But the dualities abound — mental and physical, sport and battle, life and death, work and play, the spryness of youth and the wisdom of age.
Namiki is a research technologist in the UW’s vascular biology and pathology department. He works with equipment and animals used in his department, harvesting tissues for research and managing purchasing and inventory. That’s his job; he likes it fine and does it well. But it’s not the most interesting thing about him by a long shot. He’s 55 years old, but it doesn’t show in his solid frame and quick, youthful movements — not by a really long shot.
That’s probably because Namiki is a former karate champion, and has won national titles in his homeland of Japan twice. He has practiced and competed in karate his whole life. He teaches the practice to young students, law enforcement officers and even Hollywood types, in the U.S. and internationally.
How good is he? In the world, there are but nine levels, or degrees, of “black belt” karate prowess. Namiki has reached the eighth degree. That’s how good.
To his many students, Namiki is called “sensei,” or teacher. But to his friends and colleagues in health sciences, he’s just “Toshi,” and is a source of nearly constant good cheer.
“He’s a great guy, happy all of the time,” said Richard Fox, a graduate student who has become friends with Namiki. Fox said Namiki does his job reliably and responsibly at all times, and possesses a generous spirit, too. “He’d give you the shirt off his back.”
Fox said he and Namiki share some interests, including the martial arts. But when asked whether he spars or works out with Namiki, he just laughs. “No, that’s like saying, ‘You ride a bike — can you ride with Lance Armstrong?’”
Sharon Lindsey, subject of Namiki’s demonstration of focus, is an office assistant in the same department and one of his closest work friends. “He’s our social director,” she said. “He remembers all the birthdays and and arranges pot luck. He’s always trying to feed us.”
Namiki said real karate did not start as a game or mere recreation; it’s serious business. Before World War II, Namiki said, Japanese karate was practiced mostly as a means of defense against attack.
He demonstrates by setting a scene: “I walk in (the) street. You challenge me.” He gestures. “No question I must fight — very dangerous techniques only. I must kill the opponent. No stop.” This isn’t sports, he said, it’s fighting to survive.
“But after World War II, this is no good,” he said. The Japanese tradition had to change and martial arts expanded to embrace the more sports-like approach that, as he said, “everyone can do, everybody try.”
He came to the U.S. from Japan in the early ’70s on the recommendation of a mentor, who thought he should teach here. But Namiki found the tense time of the Vietnam War era not to be conducive to his teachings and returned home. He came back in 1978, however, and located in California, where he worked as a meat inspector as well as his work as a sensei. He also owned a wholesale company, his own restaurant and five dojos, or martial arts studios, for a while.
The techniques he teaches in karate, Namiki said, comprise physical, mental and spiritual components. He is deadly serious when he says that the sport of karate is completely different than the actual practice of martial arts, for a number of reasons, which he lists.
Sporting contests are usually evenly matched, allow for rests and player substitutions and can be stopped for the safety of the participants. That’s not so in true martial arts, he said, where “You stop, you rest — you die.” Your life depends entirely on your skill and stamina, Namiki said. Also, combatants do not question the decisions of referees — it would be disrespectful — and they don’t gloat over a victory. “They are always quietly respectful,” he said.
It might be hard to believe for those who know him now, but Namiki said he started studying karate because of some high school bullying he witnessed and felt helpless to stop. He said, “There were gang members, and I couldn’t rescue my friend. I thought, ‘In the future, I will beat everybody!” And, it would seem, he did exactly that.
In addition to his role as teacher and employee, Namiki also is a father. He and his wife, Hiroko, have five daughters — Sakae, 21; Midori, 19; Karoi, 18, Megumi, 16 and Akane, 14.
His was a traditional arranged marriage, he said — he met his bride-to-be in February, 1981, and by April the two had made an engagement contract. They married that September. He said his wife never studied karate before they met, but she has since earned a first-degree black belt for herself. They had seen each other only once before they married, Namiki said, but over the years, their union has remained strong.
Though his own competitive years are behind him, Namiki is still active as a teacher and coach, and travels to Europe and Asia each year to conduct seminars in martial arts, one notable audience of students being SWAT team members from Germany. In all, he has taught karate in 13 countries, and his students have included national champions and celebrities.
Namiki said he still trains four hours every day — from 5 to 7 a.m. and from 8 to 10 p.m. If he skips a day for any reason, he said, it takes three days to make up the training. He has no intention of slowing down. “Martial arts people never retire,” he said.
And though this champion and teacher has reached the eighth level black belt — one level short of virtual perfection — he still strives to improve, to attain his ultimate target.
What’s that target?
Why, level nine, of course.
