[Nov. 19] Manon Soavi was invited by Italian web magazine DeaByDay to talk about “female conditioning through education” and her career path. This interview is part of a series of interviews published by this web magazine on women who are making a difference in the world every day.
The interview
1. Who is Manon Soavi?
I am 37 years old, I am French and I teach Aikido, which I have been practising since childhood. I also work in digital communication for associations. I worked as a concert pianist and accompanist for about ten years and I never went to school.
2.You didn’t go to school. How did you get through your childhood? Didn’t you ever want to go to school?
When I was five, I wanted to try school. I wondered what it would be like! I lasted four days before deciding I would never go back. I understood! I couldn’t stay in a place where if I said ‘no’, it wasn’t respected. I can totally respect rules, but respect has to be mutual, and at school it isn’t.

3. Have you ever felt marginalised? How were your first encounters with the “outside” world? What differences did you notice, if any, between yourself and others in your perception of the world?
Of course I’m a marginal! But in fact, most people feel like marginals, feel different and suffer because of it, but they don’t really know why. I know why I’m different and why I want to stay that way!
As a teenager, I thought I was suffering from a certain loneliness, a distance from other young people my age, but in the end I discovered that I wasn’t suffering from loneliness but from disappointment that the world was like that, disappointment at the poverty of human relationships. And, of course, disappointment in male-female relationships. Not only male domination, but also, and above all, the attitude of women themselves.
And over time, I realised that there is much worse. There is the suffering of loneliness in a crowd. The inconsolable loneliness you encounter at school, being alone in the face of difficulties. Alone in the face of the world. I have never been alone. My parents were always with me, every moment, until I was ready to face the world, until I was strong enough.
Sometimes people think that this is a way of overprotecting a child and that the child needs to face challenges and fend for themselves. But even from a martial arts perspective, this is absurd. You don’t send a child who isn’t ready to fight onto the battlefield. Otherwise, you’re sending them to certain death. If you give them time, young people learn, and one day, when they are strong enough, they spread their wings and are ready. And then, believe me, they can endure a lot, because the strength is inside them. Even if the outside bends, the inside does not break. The problem with external strength acquired in childhood for self-defence is that it tends to collapse because the foundations are not solid enough. That’s how we find ourselves in untenable situations, suffering from depression, burnout or other problems. We have become so accustomed to putting up with things that we no longer feel in time that we need to react. That is why it is important to rediscover the sensitivity that alerts us and the ability to react.
One of the strangest and saddest things for me was seeing the masks that everyone wore to appear different from who they really were. More beautiful, more intelligent, more funny. Obviously, women played the role of seductresses, manipulators, falsely weak, waiting for Prince Charming to finally live! How sad! All these vicious codes that determine the hierarchy of human relationships. I knew respect, but not hierarchy. And the world did exactly the opposite, with no deep respect for others, but orders, prohibitions (to be broken, of course) and hierarchy all the time. It was very depressing.
It took me a while to realise that my way of being attracted certain people. That being yourself simply proved that it was possible. I refuse to play the social game. I accept certain superficial rules that are inevitable for living in society, but I reject the essence of the game. Perhaps then some people will realise that all you have to do is stop playing. We keep our prison locked ourselves; we have the key in our hands, but we are afraid.
I can only serve to say, ‘It is possible,’ or as Fukuoka sensei said, ‘there is nothing special about me, but what I have glimpsed is vastly important.’1Fukuoka Masanobu, The One-Straw Revolution, 1975, Part I, ‘Nothing at All’ (very end), Eng. trans. 1992, pub. Other India Press, p. 10
4. In your opinion, is it still possible to offer this kind of experience in today’s society?
It’s no more difficult today than it was yesterday. Times change and the difficulties are not the same. But the difficulties of being true human beings are nothing new. The only question is: what do I want? In what direction do I want to take my life?

5. Today, some feminists seem almost to want to abolish the idea of masculine and feminine. In fact, however, there are fundamental biological differences: what do you think about that? What does being a feminist mean to you?
I am in favour of respecting differences. Every individual is unique and different. Some people are tall or thin, some like sports or reading for hours, some think before they act, some eat when they are upset. We are all different, and of course biological differences matter enormously. But they should not determine our role in society, our rights or our behaviour. It’s not about creating a single model, male of course, no, on the contrary. It’s about respecting each being in their needs, in their uniqueness.
For me, being a feminist means striving for equality between men and women (which still does not exist, even in our countries), of course, but being a feminist also means being aware that women are the first to perpetuate conditioning. It is not about positioning ourselves as victims, because we are both victims and perpetrators at the same time. We perpetuate the model by educating our children, both boys and girls. So, above all, it means reflecting on our own situation, on what we convey every day to those around us, to our children, to our friends. It means reflecting on our culture, our media, our own expectations.
Being a feminist for me means no longer defining myself as “a woman”. It also means no longer seeing men as “males”. I am a feminist in the sense that it is necessary today to move forward, just as it was necessary for women in the past to fight for certain rights.
One day, perhaps, we will no longer be women or men, black or white, young or old, but simply true human beings.
6. What is the Itsuo Tsuda School and what is your role there?
The Itsuo Tsuda School works to spread the practical philosophy of Itsuo Tsuda, passed on by Régis Soavi, my father. It brings together dōjōs in Europe entirely dedicated to the practice of Aikidō and Katsugen Undō (Regenerative Movement). I am Technical Advisor to the Itsuo Tsuda School, which means that I watch for of the orientation of our School.
7. At the Itsuo Tsuda School, you practise Aikidō and Katsugen Undō (Regenerative Movement). What are their distinctive features?
Katsugen Undō is a foundation, a practice that awakens the vital capacities of each individual, and is therefore a foundation for our lives. Whatever activity we engage in, it is essential to rediscover a natural body that reacts correctly.
In Aikidō, the focus is on breathing and the sensation of Ki, which is at the heart of our school, rather than on the sporting or martial aspects. We practise by seeking fusion with our partner rather than opposition. Martial effectiveness stems from our ability to be in the right place at the right time, but this is not an end in itself.
8. There is a strong female presence at your school. Can you tell us why, given that martial arts are predominantly male territory?
From the very first dōjōs that my father, Régis Soavi, created in the early 1980s, he wanted to ‘empower women’. He has always pushed in this direction. Empowering women does not mean “de-powering” men! But in a world where women do not have power, we must give it to them in order to achieve balance.
And then, of course, it is the focus of our practice, our attention to sensitivity, which develops through the practice of both Katsugen Undō and Aikidō, that is unique. Women certainly find a path that speaks to them. But there are also many men in our school who aspire to something other than an escalation of strength and aggression.
Master Ueshiba, the founder of Aikidō, was a great Budōka, even formidable, but what makes him great is the fact that he is one of the few who has transcended the duality of combat. It was the story of his entire life. But the gift he gave to humanity was to talk about going beyond combat. That Budō could forge human beings capable of much more than just winning by defeating others. In Aikidō, there is no victory, there is a surpassing of opposition, and that is very different. It may be a utopia, but it is the hope of training people who are capable of laying down their arms without becoming victims.
We often think that in Europe we no longer fight, that we are ‘good people’! This is to forget a little too quickly how we treat those who are weaker, younger or more dependent than us. The elderly, the sick, immigrants, children, babies, all those who are not given a choice, all those who are not listened to. How we talk to the cleaning lady, how we talk to those we give orders to. Are we really that good? Are we really free from violence? When faced with adversity, our first instinct is to fight back, and women, as dominated social beings, are confronted with this every day. So finding another way is surely a more pressing necessity for women, although it is necessary for everyone.

9. How can practising Aikidō and Katsugen Undō change people’s lives, especially women’s?
Precisely because we practise in a direction of fusion and non-doing. It is not about adding something but about getting rid of what clutters us, both physically and mentally, so that our being can find room to breathe. A place where it is possible to be oneself and not to “appear”. Women in particular have little room to be themselves, and these practices can help us break free from social conditioning. It is a tool, a path. It is not about practising and waiting for a miracle that will make us beautiful, rich and intelligent. It is up to us to take the steps.
10. When did you start practising and what motivates you to continue?
I started Aikidō when I was six years old and I haven’t stopped since. I started because my father taught it and I simply enjoyed it! Why do I continue? First of all, because I still enjoy practising and I don’t feel like I’ve reached the end of my journey, far from it.
And then it’s a tool for communicating with others without going through social conventions; it’s direct communication, in silence. It’s really enjoyable to walk a path accompanied by other people who are heading in the same direction.
11. Your journey took place in France. Are there opportunities for Italian women to follow the same path?
Itsuo Tsuda left behind nine books, which provide guidance for anyone interested in his practical philosophy. They have all been translated into Italian. But to practise, it is best to go to a dōjō. In Italy, there are dōjōs in Milan, Rome, Turin and Ancona. There are courses and daily practice. The dōjō is a well from which we can draw to find ourselves.
We are the ones who must walk the path, whatever tools we use to evolve, it all depends on ourselves. On our inner decision.
Notes
- 1Fukuoka Masanobu, The One-Straw Revolution, 1975, Part I, ‘Nothing at All’ (very end), Eng. trans. 1992, pub. Other India Press, p. 10