Skip to main content

Hanging a Shingle

I haven’t posted recently on this page, not because I’ve forgotten about it, but because I’ve been directing my efforts towards opening a dojo of my own. The dojo went “live” last November and I had the great good fortune of getting a student almost immediately. As in my previous time teaching, somehow my first student is also the best student – in terms of dedication and seriousness in their approach to training. It is very strange that I struck gold in the same way twice, but I’m certainly not complaining.

In any case, it was a very personal decision for me to teach my martial art and I wanted to capture some of my thinking in going down this path. It’s not something I take lightly, as I’ve said in other posts - it doesn’t take much training to become dangerous and I feel the teacher bears responsibility here. While the training hopefully tempers the worst impulses in a student, there is a middle period there where the student is… uncontrolled, let’s say. Ultimately though I decided that teaching was something I had to do for my own development.

Teaching something pushes you to master it.

When you are teaching it forces you to approach the subject differently. Both by considering what you are trying to convey and the most effective way to convey it. Plus by making you consider the student’s perspective. I’ve often thought that you don’t really understand a thing until you teach it. All of this was in my head when I decided to open the dojo. I learned so much from my previous teaching experience and was looking forward to pushing myself more. In the past few months of running regular classes I already feel that I deepened my understanding and increased my teaching skill, so this effort is making my own karate better.

You know enough.

While it is true that I’ve improved since opening the dojo, I already knew enough to start teaching beforehand. It is an endless wrestling match to feel like your skill is high enough, like you deserve to be called Sensei, like you’re not an imposter. I thought about that a lot in the lead-up to opening.

I’ve tried to put those thoughts aside and get training. I am not the greatest martial artist that has ever walked the earth. I am certainly not the highest rank and I don’t have the purest pedigree. Hell, I haven’t even been to Okinawa yet!

But I have been training for 30 years. I have several dan rank and trained seriously with multiple teachers. I have a pretty wide perspective on the martial arts and pride myself on being conversational with much of the history of Okinawan karate. I’ve taught before. And I’ve kept training through all sorts of major life changes. I’m also a certified personal trainer, which gives me some good insight into general exercise science and how that intersects with traditional karate training. I think all of this gives me enough bona fides to hang a shingle. And, of course, you can also see me on the floor and judge for yourself.

I realized that I certainly knew enough to teach a beginner… a green belt… maybe even up to a black belt, although of course by that time I will have improved even more (hopefully). Sometimes you have to have confidence in yourself, so I just got out of my own head and went for it.

This stuff is valuable.

Another aspect is that I actually had something to teach that I believed in. Yes, I was a qualified teacher, but I also had a valuable “product” to sell.

I remember long conversations with past students about the value in traditional karate training. And lots of self-reflection on what I gain from my study. I felt there was a real market for this.

It seems like today there is just as much need for traditional training as ever. Probably more. Something to keep yourself healthy and active, to provide some basic physical protection skills, but especially to help tame your own bad tendencies. Things seem out of control, but you can still strive to control yourself. Surely I wasn’t the only person who needed to hear that?

So yes, I will defend traditional karate training as valuable and I feel like I am offering an incredibly special service here.

If you want flowers, plant a garden.

It took me some time to verbalize this one. I had looked at the martial arts schools in my area and although there were some quality ones, nothing really spoke to me and I was reluctant to walk away from Goju-ryu again. So I started to think about what I actually wanted. What was I looking for?

I wanted to work on my own karate. The kata and drills I grew up with, as well as some I learned along the way, in the proportions that I was interested in. I had spent years working solely kata in my old dojo (yes, yes, a very traditional model, I know) and knew that I did not want to follow that training paradigm. I wanted the kata and bunkai, various kumite types, the traditional conditioning drills, some kobudo. I wanted to pass on what I knew and had learned.

Most of all, selfishly, I wanted training partners!

I figured the best way to get them was to build them myself. I’d get the skill and develop the trust necessary to do some of the advanced training I was really looking for.

Plus I’d get to build the dojo environment that I wanted. Camaraderie, sincere effort, supportive, serious and challenging but still fun and friendly. A place for adults looking to improve themselves. To feel a sense of mastery. And to hold themselves accountable. To hold myself accountable, most of all.

I’m trying to build the dojo I wish I had.

It feels right to me. It gives me strength, and some purpose. I hope that I can grow a whole garden here.

But even without that I’m happy to get in some quality training with a partner!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Karate Lessons - Strategic Thinking, Calculated Risks

One of the more startling things I took away from my second-to-last conversation with my old Sensei – one of the things that made it the second-to-last conversation (see The Schism ) – was when she asked me how I was incorporating karate into my life outside the dojo. It is a good question, but what startled me was that my sensei even had to ask it. It showed how far apart we had become in our practice and how little involvement they had in my day-to-day. Let me start with inside the dojo – we were a few years into COVID at the time of this conversation so my training was entirely in my home dojo, a space that she had seen pictures of and could see it was quite spacious. I was reviewing kata and bunkai every night after my kids went to bed in preparation for my sandan exam so karate was pretty front-and-center in my life at that time.  However, karate was still a major part of my life in the years before COVID. I had joined a local Goju-ryu dojo that trained once a week for a ...

Just a nobody...

Hello hello. Seems fitting to start with an entry about myself and what this blog is for. I’ve been training in the martial arts (specifically one art) for 30 years starting from the time I was a very young child. It’s been a constant in my life and remains one of my passions. But within the karate world I’m not really anyone special. I’m not part of an organization. I’m not a champion competitor. I don’t own a dojo and I’m not in demand on the seminar circuit. I’ve never written a book or made a DVD of my fighting methods. I don’t have my own line of karate gi. No ancient scrolls either. A trip to Okinawa is still just a line on my bucket list. I’ve risen to the rank of Sandan, 3 rd degree black belt, which is… if not a low rank, not a particularly high one. I’ve had some great experiences dabbling in other martial arts, and intend to keep doing so, but my through-line has been Okinawan Goju-ryu Karate-Do. It is the art that made me, the one that fits me best, and where I move ...

The Schism

I can’t get too far into this blog without talking about the split with my long time Sensei. It’s been a few years now, but it is the defining event of my martial arts training, at least recently. First, let me provide a bit of context for what this relationship looked like – This was a nearly 30-year relationship, spanning my early childhood through to my adult years. It revolved around one of my truest passions in life (karate), but devolved into something I was no longer comfortable with and that began to truly depress me. The martial arts world is abound with notions of loyalty (to the teacher, not to the student), periods of endurance and testing, and secret or hidden knowledge. I think I fell prey to my hopes and imaginations as much as anything else. I began training when I was 4 years old. In my younger years, this Sensei was really the main instructor. That changed when she took a leave of absence from the dojo after having her first child. This leave coincided with very...