The Bully

This started out as a plain, direct talk about bullies.  It came about when a student asked a simple question,  “What do you do when a bully threatens you?”  I told them that although there is no simple answer the most important thing is to keep yourself safe.  Do what you have to do to keep yourself safe.

But nothing more.  Don’t make the situation worse.  There may be repercussions already but remember you are safe.  It may not even seem fair.  That’s not important, being safe is.

You don’t want to become a bully yourself.

And that got me thinking about something that had happened a long time ago.

I was no older than ten years old when I was terrorized by a bully. And I don’t think terrorized is too harsh a word.  There was one instant where I was sitting in the back of our cramped school bus.  The bus was overloaded and I had to sit where I could find enough room just to barely fit.  Unfortunately this time I was directly opposite this bully.  He was a year ahead of me in school but seemed much older, and likely was.

He was mean.  There were no two ways about it and everybody knew it.  What he was doing on the bus was beyond me, he rarely went to school.

I sat across from him, he was on one side of the aisle and I on the other.  He spent the entire bus ride hitting me on the knee, hard.  I can still see the grin on his face as he hit me, time after time.

“What you gonna do?  Cry?” he would ask, laughing.  I didn’t know what to do, I was trapped in the back of a bus full of screaming kids.  I wasn’t popular, or very strong.  I wouldn’t be in the place I was if I had been.

I took it.  And yes, I was on the verge of tears.  My stop came and I ran off the bus, the driver completely oblivious to what had happened.  Welcome to the world of a picked-on ten year old.

Some time after that, when I was a bit older a friend and I were taking the activity bus home.  It was for people who participated in sports and the like.  The bus didn’t go to all stops so we had quite a ways to go after we got off.  We decided to cut through a camp that was near our houses and cut the walk in half.  We were walking down a path when he came on us.  I don’t even remember where he came from.  Just that this time was different, he had a knife.

What do you do?

My friend and I just tried to keep walking, We said some stuff, asking him what he wanted.  All he did was grin and threaten us.  We continued to walk and all of a sudden he left, cursing and calling as wimps.

To this day I have no idea what really happened.  I truly believe that it could have gone any number of ways that day, none of them as good as what did happen.

What do you do when you are confronted by a bully?  Am I telling you to take it?  To do nothing?

No, in this case something very important had happened over time.  He had gone from being just a bully to something worse - a violent, dangerous person.

I don’t know what happened to this person and a part of me is sorry that I don’t care.  I’ve heard many possible things that had happened and don’t know what to believe.  I just know none of them involved redemption.

What bothers me most about this whole thing isn’t the pain I went through, it isn’t the trauma I had as that defenseless kid, none of that.  What bothers me is that I don’t care what happened to that person.

I don’t think we should feel that way about anyone and I resent being put in that position.

Lesson learned – don’t become the bully.

True Story #2

Belt promotions are an important part of the martial arts experience.  It is a recognition of achievement, of growth, of another step towards your Black Belt, and beyond.

It is a solemn, respectful occasion where it isn’t uncommon to become emotional when accepting your belt.  For example these solemn words spoken at the last belt promotion at our school.  We were all seated as the sixteen year old student received her Advanced Brown belt, last of the colored belts.  She thanked her family, her instructors and then, “Cool nose piercing.”

Bo Ja Nim Drew Pocza

Her eyes had caught the “jewelry” of another student in class, and as she told me afterwards she just had to say something.

To be fair, we were all in our street clothes for a class exercise and the student with the “cool nose piercing” was dressed as he would have been outside the school.  I’m pretty sure it was the first time she had seen her fellow student in “normal clothes.”

This was a special advancement for her and it was made more so by a candid and thoroughly sincere comment.  And it was appreciated by everyone in the best way possible.

The student with the tattoos and piercings is also one of our instructors and is the nicest guy you could meet.  You can learn more about him at www.pocza.com

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.