True Story #1

One of my classes is an intermediate youth class, ages 7-10 (or thereabouts).  This particular one is currently mostly girls and takes place on our smaller floor.  The floor is wider than it is long so when I want to do any type of drill that requires some distance the class will line up in smaller lines facing the end, which in this room is either the back of the building or the parking lot.  The parking lot is slightly more appealing than the back of the building so we usually start out facing the parking lot and moving in that direction.

Today we were working on kicks and the class was moving from one end to the other.  A simple drill that lets me get a feel for how the student has progressed once they have learned the basics of the technique.  There are any number of drills but my assistant was working with some other students and this allowed me to take a look at the group as a whole as well as individually.

We started out and the class progressed through the clips, moving down and back on the floor.  Once, when the class was about half-way down the floor moving towards the window one of the blue belts raised her hand to ask a question.  Nothing surprising, my students were encouraged to ask questions and I stopped the drill.  We bowed and she asked her question.

“Instructor, may I get my brother out of the rain?” and she pointed to the sidewalk outside.  Sure enough there was her brother having a grand old time out in the rain.

“I’ll take care of it,” I smiled.  I stepped off the floor, moved past the smirking parents and ushered the free spirit into the room.

And then we continued our kicks.

The “Twister!”

I think the most rewarding thing about teaching is watching the kids grow.  That and messing with their minds.

One of my kids, the “Twister” is all energy.  Remarkable since the kid is just six years old.

Why yes, I don’t have a child of my own.  Why do you ask?

I know better.  We’re also expecting our first child in June and a lot of parents are pretty happy that I’m finally going to get mine.

What I mean by the energy comment is that in a class that ranges from a dozen to a dozen and a half kids they can all manage to stay in a stance for at least thirty seconds.  Not the Twister.

At first I thought the kid was . . . I don’t know.  I’ve taught autistic students, students with ADHD, students that were just plane contrary.

No problem.

The Twister?  I was thankful that I had an assistant to keep reign on him.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do short of stapling his feet to the floor.

And then I saw it.  It was in his eyes.  It was in his motion.  It was in his desire, it was in his heart.

He was trying AND he was succeeding.  He made a point of showing me that he could do his form, all by himself without any help.  This had been a challenge for us.

And he met it.

He’s still got the energy of a tornado but now I know it’s going the right way.

Just watch out for the Twister!

The Why and the Wherefore

So.

Why am I doing this?  Is it to extend my influence over the youth of America?  Am I trying to create a blog that will generate thousands, no millions of hits? Is it to promote the one true martial art?  Am I trying to positively influence my students in becoming better people?

Wait, how’d that last one get in there?  That’s actually close to the truth.  I must be slipping.

Influence?  No, not quite right.  Empower, maybe?  Nope, sat in on too many meetings to want to wish that word on any one.

I want to promote positive growth.  I don’t want to sound like I just came out of a meeting led by the Pointy-Haired Boss.

Here are the tools, here’s the path.  Now use them to discover how great you can be.

(And try not to get too mad at the instructor when he calls you by your sister’s name.  We’re just as human as you are.)

The First Step is the Hardest

I wasn’t born an instructor.  I wasn’t even born a martial artist.  There is something about a person that naturally moves with grace, reacts with an instinct that is uncanny and has the drive that I could only dream of having.

I didn’t have that.  I had to do it the hard way.

It all started with my wife.  Well, my wife-to-be at the time.  I had always had a passing interest in the martial arts but didn't pursue it until I met my wife.  She had been at it for quite some time while I was an innocent bystander.

The key word here is “bystander,” not “innocent” as you may be inclined to think.  I was just watching, my fear of looking ridiculous preventing me from taking that first step.  You see, I was also starting late.  I was in my mid-thirties and was still sitting on the sidelines, a bystander.

Being an adult I was acutely aware of the horrible things that could happen if I were to make a fool of myself.  I knew that I would be directly responsible for earthquakes, monsoons, bank failures and the return of Rosanne Barr to prime time if I so much as took a wrong step.

Seriously.

Wouldn’t you be afraid?

Well, the iron clad logic began to wear down and then came the day that I took my first class.

And eleven years later Rosanne Barr still has not returned to prime time.