Finding himself even as Stanford cuts his sport
A common sports cliche is that a team is like family. That it will support, nurture and accept its members.
That trope is not the reality of all families or all teams.
But in the case of Stanford men’s volleyball, it might be true.
Justin Lui, a junior libero on one of the 11 teams slated to be eliminated by Stanford University in the coming year, discovered the depth of his team bonds during the pandemic.
“I’ve been on a lot of teams, and I know how different team cultures operate,” Lui told The Chronicle. “This one is so remarkable. How everyone inter
acts with each other is so beautiful and special.”
Isolated during the spring in his parents’ home in Ontario, Canada, Lui, 20, spent a lot of time thinking about how he wanted to go forward in the world as an adult. And what he wanted to do was be authentic. To no longer keep a part of himself hidden.
“I had to let it out, no matter how painful it was going to be,” he said.
So, on an email chain that his teammates used to keep connected during the pandemic, he typed a brief message. His statement is one that remains rare in the world of men’s team sports.
He told his Cardinal teammates, “I’m gay.”
And then he put his phone down and went out for a long walk.
He had no idea what the response would be. Would there even be a response? Or would he receive silence? Aloofness? Had he just marked himself in a way that would define him more than all the other things he is?
“I was attaching a label to myself that I really didn’t want to face,” he said. “When I told my team, it made it real. I wasn’t afraid of the response so much as how to proceed.”
When he returned to his phone it was lit up with responses. Funny, tender, lengthy, supportive. The messages his teammates sent shared the same themes: that he was brave to share his truth, that he was respected for who he was, that he was accepted.
“I just sank back on my bed and felt the burden lift off me completely,” Lui said.
His teammate, senior Jaylen Jasper, received Lui’s email and reread it a few times.
“Did I read that correctly?” Jasper, who identifies as bisexual, remembers thinking. “I got the biggest smile on my face. Realizing the relief he probably felt brought tears to my eyes. He’s finally living his truth. No one should feel unaccepted because of who they love.”
While being open and accepted for their sexuality has gotten better in recent years for LGBTQ female athletes, gay male athletes still largely remain on an island, with few role models and no public community of support.
“There’s no visibility, no role models above you who can say, ‘ Yeah, it gets better,’ ” Lui said. “The stigma isn’t so much from outward homophobia, but from a fear that you can’t come out while participating, fear that you’ll lose a contract or teammates will ostracize you or treat you different. It all leads to more isolation.”
Such concerns, sadly, are valid. Lui has, anecdotally, heard of a volleyball player who believes he lost his European professional contract because he is gay, and the coach didn’t want to deal with him.
“I may see my dreams dwindling,” Lui said. “That definitely frightens me.”
For the immediate future, his dreams are dwindling and shifting because of Stanford’s abrupt decision in July to eliminate his sport, along with 10 others. The university’s claim that the decision was made for budgetary reasons has been met with skepticism, because the savings the wealthy university will gain from cutting the sports is relatively small.
The discarded programs have rich legacies, none more so than men’s volleyball. The program has won two national titles, finished runnerup three times, and has produced 10 Olympians, more than two dozen U. S. national team players and a twotime Olympic team coach.
“When I was being recruited, I was told this was going to be the best four years of my life, but the administration doesn’t want to carry through with that promise,” Lui said. “They’re just pushing us to the curb. If the mission statement is to champion academic and athletic excellence and strength of character, there’s a difference between what they say and how they treated us.”
Lui, who is in the Canadian national team program, aspires to play in the 2024 Olympics. But that path will take a decidedly different turn now.
A junior in school, Lui is a freshman by eligibility because of a redshirt year and last spring’s COVID cancellation. His current plan is to earn his management science and engineering degree in three years, transfer to a Canadian university and use his remaining athletic eligibility while he pursues a graduate degree and continues to be part of the national team pool.
He knows the level of play at his next stop may not be what he expected at Stanford, but as it turns out, Stanford isn’t what he expected.
Lui feels betrayed. He thinks that his team embodies the best of collegiate athletics. His team exemplifies diversity. His teammates’ response to his revelation shows a culture that is accepting and supportive.
“I think our coaches are responsible for the great team culture, one that values the character of each individual and attracts people who work hard, athletically and academically, and who are resilient,” Lui said.
Longtime assistant coach Ken Shibuya calls Lui a “tremendous young man.” He credits head coach John Kosty for establishing a program that embraces the whole person.
“We’re never going to be an athlete factory,” Shibuya said. “We want to nurture all parts of their worth and help them grow into men. Not just a volleyball guy. Not just a student. The whole thing.”
Lui calls Stanford’s broken promise “a slap in the face.” But thanks to his own growth and the support of his teammates, he will move into his future with more confidence. He doesn’t plan to make pronouncements of his sexuality to every new team he joins, but will simply be honest about who he is.
He embraces being the kind of role model for others that he didn’t have himself.
“I understand now how important it can be to have someone to look up to,” he said. “To alleviate anxieties and tell them it’s going to be OK.”
For the moment, the men’s volleyball team, after several changes in its calendar, is scheduled to return to campus in late January. Though the bigpicture wish is for a reversal of Stanford’s decision, the more immediate hope is to play the 2021 season.
For Lui, it will be his final weeks with what he considers a family.
“I love this team with all my heart,” he said. “It just pains me I won’t get to play with them anymore.”