Uphill Climb

Last week, I went to a workshop on engaging area youth. It was sponsored by a local agency that hosts after-school programs all over the school district. The facilitator was awesome - excellent ideas, very engaging and energetic - but sadly, the group he was there to engage - youth workers and teachers who work the after-school homework and activity programs - was none of that. Some of the folks there boasted of many years of actual classroom teaching experience, but used the same breath to detail how horrible this kid or that kid was in their program. Too many of the attendees sat with their arms folded across their chests and "I've tried that and it didn't work!" scowls across their brows. Their lethargy was hard to watch.

My group's discussion about activities that could help re-engage kids who have fallen between the cracks deteriorated into a chat about where to buy the cheapest car tires in the area while three of our group members began their own conversation about who knows what. And, yes, I did try to corral the group back to focus on the task at hand, but the side conversation and tire talk drowned me out.

What does this have to do with karate, you ask? The lessons gleaned from training in the martial arts go a long way in answering that question. For example:

1. Discipline is the absolute cornerstone of learning anything new - and it all begins with self-discipline. It doesn't have to be whip-cracking, ruler-smacking hard, but without it, it's pretty difficult to go forward. Master yourself and another master is hard to find.

2. Nothing worthwhile comes easy - and little sweat ain't never killed anybody.

3. The hardest part of any class is usually getting there. Once you're there, you might as well apply the best effort you can so your trip wasn't for nothing.

Of course teaching is a tough job. When the total number of hours spent preparing lessons and grading papers, tests and projects is factored in, teachers in most public school systems don't get paid nearly enough. And I get that it must be rough to not immediately see the fruits of such hard labor blossom and ripen, I really do. That the host district has a high economically disenfranchised, single-parent household population often (but not always) makes miniscule parental involvement the norm, which has to be frustrating as all get out. It sucks. But it is what it is.

Most of the folks I give instruction to in the dojo are children, still the above wasn't really written for them or the students in the after-school programs - but for the people who teach them. If you set high expectations for those who train with and under you, they will have high expectations of themselves. Whether teaching a static kick or a spinning one, how to balance a chemical equation or write an essay outline, if someone thinks they can do it or if they think that they can't, they're probably right. Giving instruction is about getting those we instruct to think they can.

So don't give up just yet. Keep trying - because you only fail when you stop.

Tying It All Together

I'm a writer, editor and journalism instructor, so I make a living via the written word - whether I'm stringing a few of them together for an article, cutting some of them out of someone else's article or showing others how to put them together more effectively in the classroom. Words inspire me.

I started a new blog a few weeks ago - mainly as a place to put some of the sayings I stumble across every now and again. I try to post a quote every day in hopes that it will inspire others, too.

This was yesterday's entry from The Talmud: "Who is wise? One who learns from all." Turns out it was absolutely perfect for yesterday, because it was the day my training partner, Ed, and I oversaw our first grading at the Salvation Army (where we've been hosting free karate classes since May). Here are some of our students preparing to present:



A good day was had by all 18 of the kyus that graded. My senseis, several of my training partners and a few other senseis we've trained with over the years were all on hand to help us empty the cups of the graders and keep things moving along smoothly.

Once all the certificates, new belts and stripes were handed out, Sensei D. told our students that they all look like they are solidly on their way down their own paths - provided they keep working hard. "You are a direct reflection of your instructors," he added. "You made them look very good today." Always one to give credit where credit is due, Ed immediately pointed to the black belts and said something that brought it all home: "You also made THEM look good, because we learned from them. We give to you what they've given and continue to give us."

And he's right. Guess that makes him humble and wise :-).

2010: The Year in Review

Seems like we were just toasting in 2010 and it's almost gone. Where does the time go?

But what a year it was. Between the old-to-new school chaos and broken bones, there were lessons gleaned about learning techniques on the fly, getting them to flow, ground fighting, avoiding confrontation and appropriate resistance. I had some pretty good discussions with myself here about violence against women, facing an adversary in "girl" shoes and refining the reflexes, as well. Thanks to all of you who posted responses for stopping by!

I've also waxed poetic about my loyal dog, K, tackling a new art, the find of the century :-), my favorite martial arts quotes and my reasons for stepping on the mat in the first place. Hope I haven't bored you to tears with my ramblings...

Saw some neat things, too, including a shodan grading in NYC, Bill "Superfoot" Wallace in Atlantic City a fellow blogger grade for her black belt in Japan (whoo-hoo!).

2010 was spectacular - and here's to an even better 2011! Happy New Year :-)

Up in the Club

Unlike in the picture, clubs tend to be kinda dark spots. Because they also serve alcohol, the potential for bad stuff to go down is there, for sure.

Perhaps sick of hearing me harp about learning to kick in shoes or throw other techniques in "regular clothes," Sensei S told us to not even change into our gis for class a few weeks ago. He lined up some chairs from the hallway, turned off all but the disco ball/strobe light in the studio used during kickboxing class and had us sit down. "What would you do if you were here and someone made unwanted advances?" he asked. When trapped between the wall and the "offender" (which was Sensei S - and the only way "out" was through him), we all had different solutions for getting away safely - from using very dramatic physical force to the more subtle "Could you please remove your hand from my thigh?" non-confrontational approach. It was very enlightening and had us all talking about appropriate resistance for the rest of the evening.

What would YOU do to ward off unwanted advances in a dark bar or dance hall?

Rolling With the Punches: Blending With Aikido

With so much going on in my non-karate world (final exams and papers to grade, college applications for my son, a very sick grandmother, the holidays, finances resulting from the pending holidays - you get the drift), I decided to take a little time away from the dojo to just clear my head and re-vamp. I've literally been on the mat almost non-stop since November of 2004 - save for six weeks in 2007 after breast reconstructive surgery - and I think both my mind and body needed a bit of a break. Karate was on the fast-track to becoming SOMETHING ELSE that had to get done in a day and my ancillary training away from the dojo was looking more and more like "going through the motions" which wasn't good. I told my sensei that I think I needed to miss it for a little bit in order to step back into it with the intensity it deserved.

To save the dojo fee for December, my last class was on November 29. That was also the day I found out I would not be grading for nidan in the spring with my training partners. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but I wasn't surprised at all. Still playing catch-up from my years spent gleaning elsewhere. My arsenal is still missing a few things, for sure. As a result, I've been thinking about training in another art - like aikido, MMA or even Krav Maga for a minute. Which one, though, is the issue...

Anyway, in trying to avoid the pile of papers I know I need to grade, I stopped by training partner Ed's place yesterday afternoon. He has begun taking aikido classes and told me that he'd already talked to his sensei about a two-week free trial for me. Ed knows where my head is regarding training and thought the "something new" might be good for me. (His real motive, I found out, is getting me to fall and roll a bit better so he can toss me around the dojo when we train together, but that's another story.) This morning's 10AM class was my first formal non-USA Goju martial arts class ever, save for a few Kung Fu and Judo training sessions during summer martial arts seminars.

Since all my regular gis are black, Ed lent me one of his white ones to wear, complete with all his school patches. I strapped on my white belt and was promptly questioned by the senseis when I stepped out of the changing room and they saw the patches their regular students had to earn the right to sew on their gis (via grading). Here I was trying NOT to be disrespectful and I end up being disrespectful anyway by default. Sigh...

After a brief warm-up, Ed was sent to work with his classmates and I got to work with Sensei W., whom Ed had warned me was a talented instructor but a stickler for detail. Since falling comes with the territory in aikido, I couldn't really do anything until I learned how to fall and roll properly. We worked front, rear and side falls and front rolls for almost a hour. Always, my feet were too close together, my hands were too far apart or I just didn't keep my body rigid enough after landing. My quads and triceps were literally shaking from squatting down to fall or roll, pushing up to a standing position then repeating over and over. It wasn't too physically challenging - meaning I wasn't out of breath or sweating buckets - but it was very different from my norm.

Next we moved to wrist and jacket grab escapes. After about 10 tries with me being the uke/attacker, my wrists were begging for mercy. In fact, I don't think I ever tapped out so fast or so hard before. Funny thing was that everyone - even the brown belts tossing each other - and yellow belt Ed - around the room were hollering as they slapped the mat when a wrist lock just got to be a little too painful. It was kind of melodic, actually...

Finally, Sensei W. took me back through a review of everything we'd covered. My front fall actually improved a tad while my front roll deteriorated. Guess I have some homework to do.

There is something about being a white belt again that is both intriguing and intimidating. Because the belt tells the world that you are a newbie, expectations aren't really high for your ability to do a specific technique right out of the box. You are expected to stumble, struggle a little and make mistakes, which is kind of neat in a way. But it can be intimidating, too, if you're used to being able to control your body and have it do what you tell it to do. It's like being able to do the latest hip-hop dance to the nines and going to a ballroom dancing competition to show it off. The music is different and you're out of your element.

It's also easy to forget that the instructor showing you the techniques with such grace and fluidity has been practicing them for ages, which is why they look so smooth and effortless. Plus some of my karate footwork kept creeping in. Sensei W. had to keep reminding me to keep both feet pointing forward, not towards each other like in sanchin - a simple concept that was really hard to do. More homework, it seems...

But save for a few rug burns on my knees, elbows and shoulders, I'm none the worse for wear. I had a blast and learned a lot, which was the point, really. I'm probably going to give it another whirl Friday morning - right after my grades are posted. Wish me luck with both!

My Heels and I

I recently got the following email:

"This might sound serious, but I have been sent a slightly silly question and want to do my best to answer it. The question is: If you were wearing high-heeled, pointy-toe boots, would they be a help or hinderance in defending yourself?"

I've struggled with this question lots. As a matter of fact, since the cold weather has once again hit the northeastern U.S., it has become my dilemma each time I am about to step out the door for my journalism classes and have to decide what to put on my feet. My running shoes would work best, of course, but that doesn't really speak "professionalism" in the land of academia. So I zip up those ankle or to-the-knee boots and question that decision all the way from my car as my boots click-click-click across the campus cobblestones. Since the first rule of self-defense is awareness, I'm aware of how difficult a time I might have moving around in those boots if a "situation" went down or if I actually had to run away. And with the second rule of self-defense being avoidance, that I've spent a whole lot more years running around an oval than learning self-defense combinations would probably make trying to get the heck out of Dodge quickly my first inclination. Any kind of heel - for clumsy me, anyway - would most likely prevent me from doing that very effectively.

So, yeah, my first impulse was to answer the email question with hinderance - with a capital "H."

With that being said though, I do know that being aware and trying to avoid won't necessarily keep you out of harm's way. Crazy happens to good people all the time, whether by happenstance, poor planning or missed warning signals. Maybe the question the emailer really wanted an answer to was "How could you use those boots if you're already aware that trouble is eminent and avoidance isn't a real possibility?"

In that case, those shoes might totally help you do whatever it is you'd have to do.

Every self-defense seminar I've ever sat in on has been consistent with one message: much of the stuff you already do/have at the ready can be your best weapons if you need them to be - like your house and car keys carried in your hand instead of in the bottom of your pocket or purse, or the little voice in your head insisting that something isn't quite right, or even the knowledge that the pointy parts of your elbows (or boots!) shoved into any soft spot on an attacker (inner thigh, calf, gonads - you get the point - and the pun is most certainly intended) could net enough incapacitation for you to get away. Just remember to make some noise while you're doing your thing, as doing what you have to do is not the time to be dainty and lady-like. If you have to take off that boot and pound someone with it, well...

The reality is that when the crazy begins, there are no rules.

Grace, Power, Beauty, Strength

My son - aka "Squirrel" - is a senior in high school. As application deadlines will be here before you know it, we've visited five colleges in the last month and a half. Yesterday, we visited the school that is number one on his list.

He's thinking of majoring in performing arts and is looking for a school with a program that integrates drama and dance. While touring the school's dance conservatory yesterday, we ran into Ashley, a dancer in her last year at the school who invited us to watch a rehearsal for an upcoming performance of "The Nutcracker Suite." What she didn't tell us was that she was one of the principle dancers.

Once she slid into her pointe shoes and began her warmup on stage, Ashley transformed from a quiet, gangly college kid in sweats and a headband to an amazingly bold and very talented dancer. It's been a long time since my weekly grade-school tap and ballet lessons - so my reference for the names of specific techniques was way off - but as my son began whispering them in my ear, I started relating them to something a whole lot more current for me: karate techniques.

Sure there are differences, but it's amazing how similar dance and karate really are. Ashley's beautiful kicks were really high and done with pointed toes and arms that were far away from each other, but her shoulders were always over her hips and she always landed with balanced precision - even when both feet left the ground. Her movements were very graceful but extremely powerful at the same time, making her fluid transitions from one corner of the stage to another look effortless and almost simple - which told a lot about how much time she'd put into training and perfecting her movements. When the music stopped and the dance was complete, she and the other dancers either sat down immediately or leaned over with their hands on their knees, breathing hard and sweating as if they'd just gotten off the gym treadmill. You can tell they left everything on that stage each time they went through the dance. It so reminded me of watching the best karateka go through kihon drills, move around a ring during kumite or across the floor while presenting kata - because after they rested and talked over the parts that needed to be ironed out and improved, they got up and did the whole thing over again - with the same intensity and feeling. Of course the graceful and beautiful lines were there, too. Each time. Just like it should be in the martial arts training hall.


My senseis always tell us that how we practice/train in the dojo will be exactly how it will be done outside of the dojo, if ever needed. Although I hear them each time they say it, the Purchase College Conservatory of Dance students rehearsing yesterday really hammered that home for me.

Domo arigato goziamasu, Ashley :-)