In their own words: How Nicole Kalhorn found common ground on the tennis court

As we celebrate Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month throughout May, we look to amplify the voices of AAPI leaders in tennis who are working to spread this sport far and wide. This month, you'll meet leaders who are telling their first-person stories and who recognize the influences family, friends, players, teachers and coaches have had on the direction their lives and careers have taken—and how that direction is positively impacting the newest generations. Today, meet Nicole Kalhorn.

When I tell people I live in Las Vegas, they're surprised, and honestly, so am I sometimes. Not because of the city itself, but because I moved here to build a company scaling mental health tools to mental health deserts. People are equally surprised when I mention my mom is from Isfahan, Iran, and my dad from Seoul, Korea. Vegas has a way of looking like one thing on the surface and being something else entirely underneath. I can relate to that.

Those on-court lessons and the corresponding guidance of wiser advocates gave me the language to finally understand my father. His version of love looked different from what I expected. Pieces of my dad's Korean upbringing had him expressing care through memorizing factorials for math tests; my mom's Iranian roots expressed themselves through her filling every table with food and the house with music for anyone who walked through the door.

My extended tennis family (along with my actual family’s trust and support in the process) changed the entire direction of my life. They chose to get curious, look closer and find common ground. That choice exists everywhere. My family in Iran is navigating the same thing the rest of us are right now, hoping that underneath the surface noise, there are people on all sides who share what they want. To be safe. Seen. Loved. To have opportunity. And to have just systems that empower that opportunity.

Tennis was one of the first places that taught me we could make that choice to look deeper. Being on court quickly strips everything on the surface away, and when a match is close, our underlying human struggles and inner battles that we all share in become obvious. My parents’ sacrifices, those lessons on court, and the wise community that came with that are what carried me from practicing against a concrete backboard in Colorado Springs to becoming the youngest director in Hudson's Bay Company's 350-year history, and eventually to founding Wise Friend, a startup rooted in the belief that the evidence-backed tools to mentally and emotionally heal and thrive so you can support others should be available to everyone, including every AAPI kid who has ever stood outside the fence wondering if this sport was meant for someone who looks like them.

My mom and dad crossed oceans and cultures (and that was just the beginning) so my siblings and I could lead a better life. Their dedication, paired with the compassion of a tennis community that chose to look closer, made that possible in ways none of us could have predicted. To this day, my cofounder (Clayton Alenik), my mentors (including Ryan Wolfington), and many of my closest relationships trace back to USTA programs.

My story is simply one of millions like it. I see AAPI Heritage Month as our invitation to look closer and celebrate these stories, often the ones that go untold, and find in them what I found in my dad's and my mom's: more shared humanity than we expected, and more reason to celebrate and honor than we knew.

Editor's note: Nicole Kalhorn is co-founder and co-CEO of Wise Friend. She serves on the USTA National Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Committee and is also serving as the Treasurer of the USTA Nevada Board. Honors include Princeton Class of 2019 President, Former Princeton Women's Tennis Captain, 3x First-Team All-Ivy League, 2 Seasons in NCAA D1 Doubles Rankings, USTA National Junior Scholar Athlete Award, USTA Colorado’s Sportsmanship Award of the Year.