A Beginner's Journey

“Do I have to train with the little kids?  Don’t you have an adult class?”

Rumor has it that someone asked this question sometime in the past few months.  Honestly, I can sympathize a little.  All martial artists above the age of, oh, say, fourteen know that feeling.  But there’s something that any prospective teen and adult student should know:  You.  Are.  Needed.  And, quite frankly, a beginner is a beginner is a beginner, so you might as well begin your journey alongside the kiddos.

I’m not a sensei (instructor) yet, but I have a good solid history of assisting and teaching starting from when I was a teenager.  I’ve probably covered my background in previous posts, so I won’t go into detail about my exact qualifications.  But rest assured, I’ve seen enough to where I’m confident in my authority in writing this post.

As a teenager I often taught new adult students.  As an adult student, I have had and still have youngsters who are senior in rank (senpai) to me.  I know from my own experience and from watching my  young senpai(s) that teaching and having authority over an adult gives a youngster a huge boost in morale and confidence.  You never know -maybe at school that young senpai feels isolated and disrespected.  That certainly was my experience.  So, older beginning student, you could be water in the desert for your young senpai.  Of course young senpai(s) can and do enjoy teaching children, but being liked and respected by an adult student – oh I can’t even begin to describe the good it does for a young heart and soul!

A lack of teen and adult presence exacerbates the public’s perception that the class is just for children.  All too often martial arts are treated like just another glorified babysitter.  Of course, parents who just want their kids out of their hair for an hour can make the difference between a school paying its bills or being evicted, so I’m not bashing owners who allow such kids in their class.  I also acknowledge that it’s possible for the goofiest kid in class to become your best student even though it originally wasn’t her idea to study a martial art.  All that said, a dojo needs serious students because the presence of serious students (especially teens and adults) sets the tone for the class.  The younger students will look up to their big peers and will make better progress simply because they see what hard work and good manners look like.  The public will notice people of all ages learning together.  This unusual sight will hopefully attract a wider variety of potential students.

OK, so much for the mental and social stuff – now let’s look at the physical side.  Height and age are the only differences I’ll see while watching the performance of new beginners at the college class and at my “home” dojo.   If I teach two days in a row at both places I will see a college student making the same mistakes as an elementary-school child.  I guarantee it.  I will be giving the same feedback to  students in both classes.  Yes, prospective teen or adult student, you need to swallow your pride because you absolutely cannot assume that you will learn any faster than any given child.  Everyone is on their own timetable when it comes to learning a martial art.

I acknowledge that most days an adult or teen student will have to learn in a class that is, to some extent, pitched to the younger set.  I have to admit I enjoy teaching the college class because of how I can present the material.  I confess that I feel a tiny bit sorry for teens or adults who are thrown in with a bunch of goofy children.  Accordingly, I take every opportunity to give those older beginners nuggets of information that the younger ones can’t grasp.  If the host facility allows, I am more than happy to spend a little time before or after class with any serious student, regardless of age.  Most martial arts instructors feel the same.  This is an opportunity for adults to be taught as adults, even if it’s just for ten minutes!

Bottom line is we (your instructors and your senpai) want you to succeed.  You’re not going to be treated like a two-year-old unless you act like one.  If you feel like you’re ready for new material before the children in your new beginners’ class are ready, I encourage you to talk to your instructor.  Be forewarned that instead of getting new material your instructor might instead show you ways to improve what you are currently working on and/or the instructor will give you a deeper understanding of the techniques.  In other words, you probably won’t be given new material.  That’s OK, we all go through those stages.  Just start your journey – you’ll find that training with children is either OK or maybe even fun.

Every once in awhile I get to train with karateka who are, essentially, my peers. Maybe not my exact rank – some a little lower, some a little higher. But all have more or less the same abilities. I absolutely love those sessions, but I recognize that if I trained exclusively with my peers I would be missing out on a lot of other learning.

Because of the way modern American elementary schools are run, we Americans assume that segregating students by age is the best model, and, accordingly, some of us might think that dividing karate classes by belt rank is ideal. We forget that, out of necessity, the norm in American education used to be one-room schoolhouses (my grandfather attended such a school).  And one-room schoolhouses worked quite well.   Most dojo(s) are one-room schoolhouses. Some might have the luxury of having two or three classes divided according to certain ranges of belt ranks. But even in those dojo(s), there’s usually considerable variation in ability among the students in each class. One might have only two or three true peers, if even that.

In American culture, a lot of emphasis is put on one’s peer group during one’s formative years. We’re with kids born within six months of our own birthday, who live in our own neighborhood, and who are in school with us year after year. Then suddenly we’re released into a diverse world and we have to adjust. In the dojo, us Americans are introduced to senpai/kohai relationships somewhat similar to those found in Japanese culture. It’s a bit jarring, and often there’s a learning curve for us American students. Within myself, this culture shock manifests when I am training with my peers. It takes the form of a little wistful longing for all classes to always be like this. But I know better.

Yes, there are advantages to training with a peer group. It’s nice to be able to work on material that is at one’s own level. Exploring difficult new material that would not be presented if there were kohai in class is always a lot of fun. It’s good to be pushed and pushed hard over and over with at least a few different fighters who are close to your own ability. Training with one’s peers can mean you finally have time to focus on the kata you’re learning and explore bunkai specific to that kata. It’s hard for a sensei to juggle this with different belt groups working in the same room. Not to mention, it’s great to see other students of one’s own rank making the same mistakes as oneself! All this is fantastic, it’s wonderful to have some time with peers, but one’s Karate roots grow deep when one mainly trains in a mixed group.

The higher you go, the fewer people will be in your peer group. You will get used to fighting one another. In a mixed group, new fighters are developing all the time. It’s really fun to realize, “She’s a lot better than she was last year. She really made me work hard during our match!” One’s foundational skills always need refreshment, and the lower ranks need to see what they’re aiming for. In a mixed group, all students see the progression in performance – 10th kyu (lowest rank) look like this, 5th kyu can do that, and the 2nd kyu are simply amazing (hahahaha – that’s my current belt rank). Ni-kyu like me get familiar with the expectations for reaching each rank and learn to gauge a student’s readiness for their next belt. This is a skill a sensei must have. Teaching or helping to teach benefits you. You learn how to be a sensei from being in a mixed group.

I need not spell out the advantages of training with one’s seniors. Here’s the thing, though – it won’t be long before any given karateka will be senior to others. Then it is time to do for your kohai what your senpai did for you. A dojo is a community, and all must help out. Of course, like a lot of things we learn in Karate, this can be applied to one’s life outside the dojo. You’ll more easily spot new opportunities to help, to make a difference in the world. It’s called personal growth, and that’s what training and discipline are all about.

Wait – what?!? Yes. It finally happened. Growing up sometimes means growing pains.  I experienced burnout. Don’t worry – I’m on the mend. I’m still with my home dojo, never fear. Let’s just get this out there – no, dear readers, you don’t need to know the specifics. Rest assured someone is making sure that I’m staying the course. Many others are completely unaware that they are helping me. Most of these are children who don’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of my struggle. I don’t think any of them read this blog, but if they do, maybe they’re ready to learn about a very real thing that can and does happen.

I have experienced burnout both as a parent and as a caregiver to my late grandparents. It took me a few hours to recognize what I was feeling in connection with my karate. Up until that moment, I never thought I would go through this with karate! Yet it happened just the other day. I am human. I’m glad I was able to catch it quickly. Burnout is a sign that I am investing heavily in my karate, which is a good thing! But burnout is also a sign that things are out of balance. Changes need to be made. I’ve taken measures, rest assured.

Recommendations to remedy burnout are many. Make time to get away and take care of yourself. Keep a journal. Talk to someone about what you’re going through. Pray. Exercise. Spend time outdoors. Have at least one person keep tabs on you. Get professional help if needed. These are great general recommendations, but what can be done about karate-related burnout specifically?

For some, burnout could indicate a need to change dojo(s). It’s a drastic step. If you’re considering it, make sure you’re leaving for the right reasons. Make sure you’re not viewing the dojo with a consumer mindset.  See your dojo  as a community, not a commodity.  That shift in view alone could put things in perspective.  That said, abuse of any sort is a good reason to leave. Dysfunctional relationships, illegal activity, neglect, unsafe conditions – these are all great reasons to get out. But if you’re simply running out of fuel because you’re dealing with things that most dojo(s) go through to one degree or another – tell someone about it and stick with it. You could learn and grow as a result.

For some, burnout could be a result of not making enough progress or making too much progress too quickly. Plateaus happen – just do a search on the Web for “performance plateau” and you’ll see it’s a phenomenon that is not exclusive to martial arts. There’s loads of good and bad advice out there, I’ll let you decide. A huge upward spike in performance can be stressful and lead to burnout too. Also doing too much of anything, really, can burn one out.  The remedy for that is deceptively simple. Scaling back sounds easy, but, as with any human endeavor, it’s complicated. My best advice is to find balance.

I’m not qualified to address the specific needs of a sensei (instructor) who is burning out. The most I can do is offer some general things I learned from home schooling my children. Put on your oxygen mask first before helping others. Don’t be a slave to the curriculum – tweak it, mold it, knead it, pound it if necessary. Always search for fresh ideas and new activities. Ask your students to come up with something and have them lead the class for ten minutes or so. Don’t be afraid to step outside your culture and experience what life is like for others (this is what seminars are for). Be innovative – some things you try won’t work (and that’s OK) but more often than not you’ll find your intuition will lead you and your students to success. Trust yourself. Whenever you don’t trust yourself, read whatever records and journals you are keeping (you are writing stuff down, right?) to see your school’s growth and success. Most of all, get help when you need it. Your students need you and vice versa.

Ohhh yes. Never forget that you need your students. They can help you even when they don’t know they are doing so. The very next class after I recognized that I was burning out I looked for things to be happy about while I was assisting with the Intermediate class. I found plenty of things to be glad about, and my bucket started to fill again. One small student asked me to put my hand out as a target for him to kick – he recognized that this had helped him earlier. Another had a breakthrough with a kata (form) and appreciated me teaching him the concept of embusen. There was a belt test the next week, and the candidates were looking sharp. I remembered the pride I felt when the dojo sensei told me I was a big part of their success.

The big picture is hard to see when one is burning out. The other day when I experienced burnout, my perspective got skewed rather badly because emotions are powerful things. Immediately after recognizing what I was experiencing I read some articles on my blog. This included the post that was scheduled to publish just two days after I was hurting. In that post I wrote that making the world a better place is really the heart and soul of what I do in Karate. Oh my. It’s a lot to live up to, but it is so true. I had lost that focus. I asked someone to keep tabs on me and remind me of all that I’ve gained and about the fun I’m having. I’m willing to do the same for that person. Burnout happens. Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

Every year the facility that hosts my “home” dojo shuts down for a week for maintenance and deep cleaning. That is a smart idea and there is always a visible difference throughout the facility when it re-opens. I don’t mind that I have to find an alternative to going to my Karate class. I simply visit a sister dojo. A couple of weeks ago while the host facility was shut down I visited a sister dojo.

Whenever I visit that dojo I always think back to how I almost started my first journey there, way back in late 1983. After six weeks in a little Parks & Rec Tang Soo Do program, I was hooked. I was completely dissatisfied with meeting only twice per week and with the long, 2-3 week breaks in between sessions. My father did some research that included the club that I now visit when I can. Ultimately he decided that a storefront dojo closer to our house and headed by a lady sensei (instructor) was a better fit for me. It gives me an odd feeling whenever I think that if I’d started at what is now my sister dojo and if I’d kept up with Karate all these years, by now I’d probably be senior to quite a few karateka in our organization.

But then I wouldn’t be having the adventures I’m having now. Worse, maybe I wouldn’t be studying Karate at all. Maybe I’d have sustained a more severe injury than any I’ve had so far. Or perhaps I’d be burned out from juggling too many responsibilities while raising babies and, later, helping my mother care for my grandparents. Of course it’s equally possible that I’d be sitting among the highest ranked karateka of our organization today. I don’t mourn for that lost possibility because I am content with my journey.

I hope the love I have for my art pervades this blog. I’m tickled pink that I, a slightly-lumpy middle-aged matron, who “should be” doing more passive things am enjoying this “strange little hobby of acquiring bruises for funsies” (as fellow blogger Jackie Bradbury puts it).  Every once in awhile I get a little sad when I think, “I don’t have enough decades left in my life to accomplish [fill in the blank] like so-and-so has.” Maybe so. But is that so important?

No. It isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I respect and treasure everyone who has achieved more in Karate than I have. I admire their accomplishments and I emulate my mentors and heroes as best I can. It’s just that there’s an immensely important thing that absolutely everyone, martial artist or not, can achieve starting right now. It’s called making the world a better place. And that, dear readers, is something I can do every single time I enter the dojo. I am touching lives. I am helping to bring about those “Aha!” moments that light up people’s faces. I help sweep the floor before class. I treat a child with respect, and that respect could be like water in the desert for that child’s life. Simple things, yes, but the results are magic.

That is the secret to my contentment. I still push myself to the top of my game. I still try for those tournament medals. I still train for my next belt test. I still do conditioning exercises early in the morning. I don’t mourn for the decades that were lost, the things that never happened, the honors I might never earn. I focus on the here and now. I can make the world a better place one small act of love at a time. It’s a fun benefit to training 🙂