Starting SOMEwhere

For a few years now, I've thought about becoming certified to teach women's self-defense. Actually, I've obsessed about it for the better part of the last three years and ended up taking every self-defense seminar and workshop I could just to see just what the actual teaching of one would entail. Mostly, I liked what I saw - except for one thing: the obligatory beating of a man in a padded suit that stemmed from the predication that "stranger danger" - in the form of an evil-doer jumping out from behind the bushes or sneak attacking from behind - is the biggest threat the average Jane faces. But it isn't. The reality is that the majority of women who are attacked are attacked by people that they know. Here are a few statistics pulled from the National Domestic Violence Hotline website that drives the point home better than I ever could:

*On the average, more than three women are murdered by their husbands or boyfriends every day. * One in five female high school students reports being physically and/or sexually abused by a dating partner. * One in three teens report knowing a friend or peer who has been hit, punched, slapped, choked or physically hurt by a partner. *As many as 324,000 women each year experience intimate partner violence during their pregnancy. *Seventy-four percent of all murder-suicides involved an intimate partner (spouse, common-law spouse, ex-spouse, or boyfriend/girlfriend). Of these, 96 percent were females killed by their intimate partners.

The martial artist-me reasonably believes that if I was assaulted, I'd be able to do whatever I needed to physically to get away. But punching a STRANGER in the nose has got to be different than punching someone that I know - and who knows me. And none of the WSD workshops I went to ever addressed that. So next weekend, I'm putting together one that does :-). A short (two-hour) workshop that mostly emphasizes awareness, avoidance and de-escalation with a little bit of very basic physical techniques, the curriculum is based on the National Women's Martial Arts Foundation's Self-Defense Empowerment Model, which is eventually where I will seek certification. Unlike RAD and Fight Like a Girl systems, dealing with acquaintance violence is a huge part of the program. I'm really excited and really nervous about it as well. I'll let you know how it turns out :-)

Out of Sorts

Ever have one of those classes? Y'know - where nothing goes quite right and you just can't flow for squat?

My last few classes have been just like that. Training sessions like those are the most draining and frustrating things on the planet to me.

Part of the problem is that I'm going through some emotional non karate-related stuff, including the pending high school graduation of my son (tomorrow) and the stress associated with getting everything together for his walk down the aisle to flip his tassel. Another part of it is that my sensei is also going through some emotional non karate-related stuff, including relationship and relocation issues. Sure, shoes, attitudes and personal "laundry" should get left at the dojo door, but suffice to say that - to me, at least - the vibe in the training hall is off a bit, which is starting to make training there something I'm not quite as excited about as I used to be. And I'm not quite sure what to do with that.

So, to get back a little of the fervor before I start to dread going completely, I've been thinking about taking a small break. I'll still be training - both on my own and at perhaps a little in Jujitsu (got an invite several months ago from a local sensei who has visited our class on several occasions) - just not at my school. Who knows - maybe a month or so of training in a different environment will be good for me. Time will tell.

This will really be my first non-injury karate pause since I started almost six-and-a-half years ago. The only other time I stayed away from the dojo for longer than a class or two was for a six-week recoup from reconstruction surgery, and I swear, I thought I was going to tear my hair out without karate - but I survived by watching kata videos and visiting the dojo a few times. This will be a little different, but just as necessary, I think.

Ever taken a break from training? How did you spend your time away from the mat? How easy or difficult was it to return?

How Much is TOO Much?

Is it ever too early to introduce a brand-new martial artist to hard physical contact? I'm not talking about a punch to the arm or a light kick to the gut, but powerful techniques from folks who've not only been training longer and are more experienced but who are bigger, faster and stronger? There's a bit of a debate going on over at the Women's Forum of Martial Talk.com about a young woman who has only been training for four months feeling intimidated by how advanced the guys in her training hall are - and how hard they hit. Now, I'm most definitely of the "It's karate, not knitting so expect there to be contact" school of thought, but I still can't get behind the "tough it out, it makes you a better martial artist!" refrains in some of the replies. But really, something about the idea that she's asking for advice on how to get over feeling intimidated by her training partners seems strange to me. Her original question:

I'm a small 24 y.o. woman, not very strong. I feel it's important to learn to defend myself so I started martial arts. I've been going for four months now but I still feel really intimidated in the class full of men. Some of them are nice but some are quite advanced and are in my opinion quite hostile - and they hit hard. I like my teacher but I am a slow learner it seems, and this may be annoying for the advanced students. Any advice from instructors/other women about feeling intimidated?

If you read through the thread, you'll see that most of the advice she's gotten to date has centered around her speaking up to her training partners and asking them to temper their hits/kicks/blocks and even speaking to her instructor if the "I'm gonna blast you across the room" techniques don't cease - and I agree - but really, should she HAVE to tell more advanced students not to kick her in the face? Shouldn't the idea that folks who have just started on the path not being quite ready for full-power techniques be a given? I remember being punched in the face THREE TIMES by a fourth dan during a basic jab drill when I was only a seventh kyu. I'd been training for less than a year and had no idea what to do. I know NOW that he should have had the most control/been the safest person in the room, but as a newbie, I wasn't quite sure if getting hit in the nose that much was drill protocol - I just know it made me feel really uncomfortable, whether it was the norm or not. But who knows what "normal" is when they decide to step on the mat for the first time? After they've been training for a few months? Whether there to learn self-defense, to sweat a bit or simply for the challenge of learning something new, the environment that is martial arts training is a pretty unique one. The rules of what is appropriate and what isn't aren't posted on the wall but rather learned as we go - and usually, they are learned by watching and working with more advanced training partners. It should come down to the student deciding what is appropriate contact-wise for her/him - regardless of her/his level/rank, but is that what really happens? Like I said in my reply, I think everyone should totally be able to say if/when the contact is too much. I don't think it is ever OK for others - be they fellow students or instructors - to determine what is and isn't "too hard or too much" for anyone else. Insisting that they "tough out" whatever is dished out in order to learn is the fastest way to chase a person right out of the training hall, IMHO. The reality is that most women have probably never been hit until they kick off their shoes and step onto the mat - and if they have, it probably wasn't by a guy who out-weighs her by 50 lbs or so in an environment that is supposed to be about learning and fun to some extent. I don't really see how facing dudes with absolutely no control or a dimmer switch teaches anyone how to be a better martial artist - just how to "take" a punch. But what does that have to do with becoming a good martial artist? To me, that demonstrates only how easily we bruise and bleed in a "oh look! I almost ruptured my spleen today!" sort of way. That is not quite all the karate I study is about. There are reasons we wear pads while training - primarily so we don't hurt the person on the receiving end of a kick/punch/block too much. Sure, punch like you mean it, but to me, there is a big difference between a solid technique with intent and one that is meant to blast the uke out of the ring just for ha-ha's. Let the contact be appropriate for the learner's level, that's all I'm sayin'... OK - rant over. Thanks for indulging me :-)

For the Girls

Consolidating some files on my 'puter, I found a few photos from gradings and tournaments past. I've been blessed enough to have had the genuine fortune to train along side some truly amazing karateka. For me, the photos are inspirational (hope they are for you as well). Way to fight like girls, ladies :-)

"Why Do You Train?" - Take 43

I really love my school - and not just for the physical aspects of karate we learn how to do. Last night's class, for example, was all about the mental.

Sensei Joe - part amazing karateka/instructor, part web-master - brought in his video camera to film us doing self-defense techniques to post on the school's site. There were only four students in attendance, so we all got a chance to demonstrate for the camera some actual "what would I do to neutralize this bad guy?" scenarios. He had asked that our techniques not only stop the attack/attacker, but make sure his/her will and/or ability to fight was obviously stopped, too.

The first technique I demonstrated was a solid front snap kick to the gut of an attacker as he moved forward to punch. My uke - my son, "Squirrel", who is about 5'8" and 120lbs soaking wet - promptly went flying across the room from the kick. But this "Neo" (my nick-name) had a question, of course: would it really be necessary to re-acquire my adversary since I created enough distance to get away? Seriously - I wouldn't WANT to get close enough to him again to be able to throw a kick or punch since I was now far away from the threat. My instinct would have been to turn and run, but all the men in the room - Sensei Joe, Sensei S., training partner Ed and even my 17-year-old son - said that since what I'd done to stop the confrontation would only stop the attacker for a moment (in fact, my kick might only do little more than piss the dude off), he might try to re-engage. Maybe he'd catch me, maybe he wouldn't - but was that really something I wanted to chance?

That simple question lead to a 45-minute discussion about what it might actually take to get away from a crazed (or high, or drunk or extremely determined) evil-doer - and how to stop him/her if you couldn't.

My reality is that, other than scrapping it out in the dojo with my training partners, my fighting experience is pretty limited. I didn't wrestle with my brothers as a kid (I'm an only child), only jostled once on the playground in grade school (in second grade,a classmate pulled my hair, I pulled hers back and it was over) and haven't ever engaged in a bar fight or other "I'm gonna hurt you!" situation. Looking around the room, it hit me that my senseis, Ed and even my son couldn't say the same. Their practical experience with this "stick and move" stuff was much more extensive than mine and training partner K's (a first-kyu in her late 30's who has some difficulty with self-defense "just do something effective" scenarios as she came through the ranks in a school that never did any of that stuff, if you can believe that). Of course it didn't help that I had a mini flash-back to most recent real-life scenario - my time with "Angry Dad" - right in the middle of the discussion that made me an emotional mess and unable to do any more "let me choke you so you can figure out how to get out of it" scenarios for the remainder of class.

Once I made it to my gear bag and found a tissue, Sensei S. again asked us all the infamous "Why do you train?" rhetorical question before we bowed out - and for the first time ever, no answer resonated through my head. I thought I trained because I absolutely love the challenge of it all and so that seeing a punch come flying towards me won't be so foreign if it ever happens outside of the training hall, but now I'm not so sure. If self-defense really means "finish him/her before s/he finishes you" would I be able to do that? Would I even want to? Hmmm...

The art of self-defense is a multi-headed, living, breathing entity, it seems. Back to "the shed" I go...

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

A very good friend and training partner told me once that because he was a bit of a bully growing up, his mom wouldn't let him study martial arts as a child. Now 40, he's forging his path by preparing to test for his 6th kyu in USA Goju, training also in Jujitsu and Muay Thai and hitting the mat or gym six days out of each week. He also thinks martial arts would have helped him a lot when he was younger, not turned him into a thug.

Soon after our dojo's last promotion in January, we noticed that one of our 9th-kyus - a seven-yr-old with severe ADHD - hadn't been to class in a while. When I called his mom to see if everything was OK, she told me that she'd decided to stop bringing him to karate because her son was beginning to use his knowledge of strikes, blocks, kicks and kata to terrorize (her words, not mine) his class- and school-mates. She thought it best to give him a little time to mature before returning to the mat.

A few weeks ago, my sensei and two of my training partners visited his instructor's dojo (it was opening night of my son's school play, so we couldn't make it). At the very next class, my dojo-mates were all aflutter about one of the new white belts in the class who was very mouthy to her instructors. She questioned why she had to do certain things instead of just doing them. My dojo-mates were as shocked by her lack of knowledge of how things should be done in the training hall as they were by the fact that not one of her dojo mates pulled her coat to tell her to tone it down or sit down until she could.

Last weekend, I was ALL OVER one of our 12-yr-old 6th kyus because he was blatantly disrespectful to one of the adult students he out-ranks. Although he is one of the highest-ranking kids in the class, he usually acts like he is doing everyone a favor when he falls in at the start of class and gives less than a half-assed effort in kihon, stance work, kata and sometimes kumite. An only child who is used to being coddled by mom (she actually helps him take off his sparring gear when she's in attendance) he just never seems to do much of anything with fervor or enthusiasm at all. The week before, when I found his belt in a tangled heap in the middle of the floor shortly before a demonstration we were about to do at a local community center (he had run off to play basketball), I stuck it in my gear bag. Training partner Ed and I discussed it and decided that he won't get it back until his attitude adjusts - which means he will be forced to line up in the back of the class for a bit. Because we've seen him step it up for grading and competitions, we know what he's capable of when he wants to put forth a little effort. Time will tell if being away from the front line for a bit will be the spark that ignites his enthusiasm.

But back to last weekend: when I called him out for being so ugly to his dojo mate, the room got pin-drop quiet as I'm not a screamer on the mat unless I'm kiai-ing during kata and my usual way to handle protocol breeches would have been to pull him to the side and reprimanded him privately. But because of the level of disrespect (he actually told an adult who reminded him not to show the bottom of his feet while sitting and waiting for his turn to present kata that because he wasn't his father, he didn't have to listen to him), it seemed like a good idea to assist him with pumping his brakes post haste. Recognizing "the look" as I prepared to speak to the 6th kyu, my 17-yr-old son adjusted his posture and stepped back to allow me room to pass. He told me later that he was actually scared for the kid, having been on the receiving end of "the look" so often (perhaps there is something to be said for the "kiai of the eyes" after all :-). And I did let the youngster have it by letting him know that the next time he parted his lips to speak to anyone in the dojo in such a manor, he'd be immediately asked to change his clothes and sit and watch the class until his mother could get there to pick him up. Next came the "But what did I do?" stuff, which I absolutely have no tolerance for at all. His aunt, who'd witnessed the situation at the demonstration, said she'd speak to mom and have her give me a call. Seriously, I'm pretty sure his mom already knows what's going on because if we're seeing that behavior in the dojo, I'm sure his teachers are seeing in school and she's probably witnessing it at home as well...

All the ads for area and distant dojos that I've ever seen talk about how discipline and respect are a few of the main benefits of karate for young people. As my 40-yr-old training partner, my seven-yr-old student's mom and my dojo-mates would probably tell you, it extends well beyond standing in yoi for what seems like an eternity, or addressing your instructor as "sir/m'am" or even rei before, during and at the end of class. They get that budo dictates both must be present not only during training, but outside of the walls of the training hall, too. But what about those you train with who don't?

For those of you who teach or train with different age groups and ranks, how do you handle disrespect in the dojo?

Be the Mosquito: Bobbing and Weaving with a Purpose

Since the blogsphere today is full of stuff about sparring - including posts by Samurai Girl, Ariel at Martial Arts Passion and Mr. James at Okinawan Fighting Arts, I figured I might as well toss my two cents into the mix as well... Although I love working/improving kata and kihon, I really love to spar. Not that I particularly like the idea of getting hit, but the matching of wits/game of tag that is jiyu kumite in the dojo or in the competition ring is kinda fun. Let me re-phrase that: HITTING and KICKING are fun - and I can usually do that fairly well. It's my evading and countering that always, always, always need a little work. Tuesday night, Sensei J, a yondan who is an amazing tactician and who is as quick as he is powerful, led class. He challenged us to think (and move and fight) outside of our comfort zones. For me, that meant fighting more like the lightweight I am - staying on my toes for the whole fight to make moving in and out as well as changing my angles of attack possible - instead of bouncing a little before planting my feet, remaining on my adversary's centerline and fighting more like a heavyweight with long limbs when the "battle" gets going. It was harder than I thought it was going to be - mainly because the thinking that is NOT supposed to happen had to creep back in. It was the only way I could remember to stay on my toes, be mobile and let the techniques flow. But flow, I didn't. I'd land two techniques then.just.stop - and promptly get pummeled by Sensei Joe or Sensei S - who took turns sparring us all. Suffice to say I may have gotten a few good licks in, but the reality is that when all was said and done, I had my butt handed to me over and over again. Biggest problem? My evasions were too big. In an effort to avoid the technique my senseis threw, I moved too far out of range to counter, which meant I had to re-acquire them continuously. They had no such issues, I noticed because their evasions were much more subtle - a shoulder lean here, a hip shift there - which made their counters to the techniques I tried to hit them with much more effective. And they were doing a little more than tapping, unfortunately. Ouch... Sensei Joe compared it to games of tag he played as a kid. "You didn't really need to run away when the person who was 'it' came charging," he said. "Sometimes it was a lot more fun to let them get really close then shift to the left so their tag brushed right past you." Then he demonstrated while first I tried then training partner, Peg, tried to simply touch his gi, shoulder or face when he was about a foot in front of us. Not only did we miss every time, he tapped us with something on his way past us - like a backfist or shuto to the head or a reverse punch or a little hook kick to the gut. It felt like we fell into his technique - or better yet: like he set us up to hit him only so we could get hit instead. In other words, not only did his techniques flow from one right into the next without pause, the "fight" wasn't over until he had the last attack - which he landed at will. He even turned away as if to run once and the next thing I felt was his foot - via a well-timed ushiro geri (back kick) in my gut. Ouch - again! As un-ladylike as it sounds, hitting stuff is a one of the things I absolutely love about karate, but the other is the fact that there is always more to learn. What I learned from playing tag with Sensei Joe is that while bobbing and weaving are nice, throwing a technique on the way "out"/getting the last tag in is even nicer - and much more efficient. He reminded us about one of our former training partners who got so good with this that she earned the nickname "Mosquito" because she was there, attacked you, then was gone before you could even raise your hand to slap her away. "Be the mosquito," Sensei Joe said. Indeed...