Sisu. A popular word used in the Finnish language to refer to a person’s tenacity, grit, and ability to not only be courageous, but maintain that courage in the face of adversity. The word itself does not have an English equivalent, roughly translating to “go”. But to the Finnish, sisu is something that originates from deep within our beings and gives us the strength to persevere  against any odds.

I became familiar with the term about four years ago, my mother had purchased a sign baring the word as a Christmas gift for my father, explaining its popularity in Finnish culture. The story ended there for a bit, until recently at a sparring class, I was at my wits end with my chosen mouthguard, and one of my partners began raving to me about Sisus—explaining that they were the best mouthguards in the game.

Thanks to my mother’s purchase, I immediately perked up. I experienced that famous “Aha” moment. All the training I had been doing for the last four months, with the simple intent to get back to my collegiate athletic physique, developed a whole new meaning. I had found my sisu, and she was right underneath my nose.  

Ritva Langlois. A soft-spoken woman whom I feel I’ve grown to be very similar to, is my sisu—she is the reason I fight. Ritva, or my Mummu, meaning grandmother in Finnish, was diagnosed with cancer about ten years ago, and lost her fight on August 16, 2012. An immigrant herself, she and my grandfather brought my father and his three siblings over to the US from Finland in the early 60s to Brooklyn, Connecticut.

One of my greatest memories with Ritva was going to the Finn hall with her to celebrate Saint Urho’s day. A bit of context: Saint Urho drove the grasshoppers out of Finland to save vineyards thousands of years ago, essentially saving the country from economic collapse. We wore green shirts, and purple scarves that she knitted to fit the color theme. She introduced me to Finns who had known her since she had immigrated, all of which excitedly mentioned how much Ritva talked to them about my sister and me, especially about our athletic prowess. Even though I was flattered that she was proud of my athleticism, I was even more proud that I was getting a glimpse into the community that supported Ritva when she made the trek across the Atlantic all those years ago.

Of course, I would not be here if she had not made that terrifying choice to uproot her life, but without her, I would have never celebrated Saint Urho’s day, watched her hand grind the herbs used to make her pulla bread, ate her famous snickerdoodle cookies, rode to soccer practice in her convertible with the top down—wind in our hair, or giggled as she referred to Nickelodeon as “Nickeleedeon” during our visits. But most importantly, I would have never inherited an endless work ethic, and found the spark to my sisu within.

I miss her every time I eat pulla, and every time I look at my Sisu mouthguard. Even though Ritva will never get the chance to see what I have accomplished so far, I have her to thank for how far I will go. Without her as my sisu, I would have never taken the plunge to KOCancer.

Please consider donating to this phenomenal cause, and follow my journey on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter as I train for December. I will release more details of fight night once they become available. Thank you!