The Professionals – Part One

Our city’s police hosts what they call a Citizen’s Academy a few times per year. The class meets for three hours once per week for a total of ten weeks. It’s a big commitment, and I let that be my excuse to pass up the opportunity for a few years. This time around was different. I already knew our community outreach officer because she co-taught the self defense classes last summer. Because of that positive experience, I was determined not to let the opportunity to take the Citizen’s Academy course pass me by again.

Why am I interested? What is the motivation behind my determination to finally make the commitment? I had to have an answer to type into the registration forms. I do have a good answer that is absolutely true. What I think I know about the police comes from novels, movies, and the news media. I want to learn firsthand what police work is all about. This is an easy thing for me to say when asked. But I have deeper reasons that are not so easy to articulate.

In Karate, I play with the concepts of violence. A quick Google search yielded a definition that fits what I’m trying to express: behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something. At my level (currently i-kyu), when I’m sparring I’m trying to outwit my opponent and sneak a carefully controlled punch or kick past his or her guard. For kata (forms) I am expected to be able to physically and verbally express my interpretation of every single movement of every single kata I’ve memorized. This means that with every movement I visualize what my opponent is doing and exactly what I am doing to him. Even the most basic kata are to be performed with the proper mindset. I spend quite a bit of time “meditating” on violence by practicing kata, but this isn’t the same as putting myself in danger as part of my job.

By attending the Citizen’s Academy, I hope to get a glimpse of what it’s like to go to work knowing there’s a high probability one will find oneself in a bad situation. I play with concepts as a hobby. Violence is a reality for the police. Do I have a clear picture of what that’s like? Well, no. Of course not. I’m not a veteran police officer, and it’s not likely I ever will be. But after the ten weeks are over, I should have a little better understanding of those who deal with violence as part of their profession.

The first class we listened to a lecture on the job application process for those who want to join the force and then we took a tour of the station. I was stunned at the extensive process that every candidate has to go through. Folks, my toughest job interview was an absolute picnic in comparison. My biggest takeaway from touring the station is how much physical support police work requires – computers, tools, charging stations, a sally port for the detention area, rooms for cleaning equipment, secure lockers for evidence gathered at the scene of a crime, and even a small gym. Granted, police do more than just deal with violent situations – a LOT more, and yes, a good bit of the physical space and tangible stuff reflected that. But it was very hard to ignore the spaces and objects devoted to violence. This got quite “real” to me three days later when I signed waivers and put on a Kevlar vest.

I arrived at the police station early. The instructor of the Citizens Academy had advised me on how to dress. I had checked the weather forecast before I left and scrounged for something that I wouldn’t roast in and something loose enough to accommodate the bullet-proof vest I’d be wearing. I’d heard Kevlar doesn’t exactly breathe. I saw how bulky the vests are when we toured the station three days prior. The best I could do was a man’s undershirt to wear under the vest. Over the vest I wore an old, raggedy shirt (formerly my husband’s) that I wear for yard work. I looked like something the cat had dragged in.

While I waited, I sat on the lobby bench contemplating the glass case which contains mementos of an officer killed in the line of duty. The worst I’ve ever experienced in karate was – well, it’s a toss up between the broken foot when I was a teenager and the soft tissue damage to my intercostals that hurt for several months. I go home to my family after karate class.

My new officer friend took me back to fill out some paperwork while he found a bulletproof vest that more or less fit me. Less because, as the office assistant pointed out, I’m smaller than the average police officer – male or female. A bar of metal runs down the spine of the vest – that takes some getting used to when you’re sitting down. But the discomfort is better than a bullet to the spine. I don’t train for bullets in Karate. This is a whole realm of violence that I do not truly comprehend – I have a vague idea of its magnitude and gravity.

Something I do understand is how that vest would help or hinder me in a hand-to-hand fight. I resisted the urge to run into the gym to try some karate while wearing the vest. I didn’t even ask – I knew I was expected to stay in the cruiser no. matter. what. I didn’t want to give the impression that I was eager for action. Besides, my host had to get out on patrol.

The officer and I went out to the cruiser and he showed me the features of the vehicle. We hopped in and drove off.

Three days prior to this adventure, the instructor of the Citizens Academy asked, “You’re not likely to see much on a Saturday morning. Are you sure you want this time slot?” I was sure. For one thing, I’m super busy and that time slot was optimal. For another, I wanted to talk more than I wanted to see a cop catch a baddie. Sure I saw stuff. Routine traffic stops. A drunk taken away in an ambulance. But mostly we talked. Perfect. During the four hour patrol our conversation wandered, interrupted frequently by something the officer needed to do. The topic of conversation changed accordingly. The officer I rode with frequently had things he wanted me to learn and would often ask questions that made me think. And yes, I did ask questions related to violence. I know techniques, I know principles and concepts, but I don’t know reality.

In cop movies we see a lot of foot chases, vehicle chases, and shootouts. There’s more to police work than that. A lot more. Reality is that the police do a lot to try and prevent violence. The officer I rode with sometimes just says “Hi” and chats a bit with known troublemakers so that not every interaction is confrontational. Sure he knows where the hot spots for trouble are and where he’s likely to find stolen vehicles. But more importantly he knows human nature, including himself. Some of that is on-the-job experience and some of it is training.

I could relate just a little bit to a few aspects of this officer’s extensive and comprehensive training. I’ve been pushed to my limits mentally and physically. Frequently I have to master myself and my emotions. I can see where new officers would be prone to certain mistakes. But there’s more for an officer to master. Firearm proficiency, driving at high speed, fighting hand to hand, first aid, writing clear reports – that’s just the surface. There’s extensive training in how to handle a wide range of human behavior. In particular I envied the training my host received in de-escalation. The ultimate goal is to build the community.

It’s strange to think about violence (“behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something“) being a part of building a community. But it is and always will be.

Sitting alone in the cruiser, watching my new friend, praying for his safety – that was reality. I wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest just for fun. At any time, fertilizer could have hit the rotating cooling device. Unless the vehicle caught fire, I was to remain in the cruiser at all times. I came up with a strategy. I knew where the door lock button was. I knew I could duck down and the side panels of the vehicle would offer a good bit of protection. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t scared. But I do admit this was unfamiliar territory for me. I’m savvy enough to know that being pushed outside one’s comfort zone means learning and growth.

So what’s the bottom line here? I admit that one of the questions I asked myself on the way home was, “How do I stack up compared to a police officer – am I as badass as all that?” Uhhh… No. A friend of mine advises, “Don’t compare – someone will get hurt.” I admit that I kinda hurt myself just a little bit with feelings of inferiority as I was driving home. Training envy, maybe? But then I realized something. That police officer and I are an apple and an orange. We both invest heavily into our respective communities, but in different ways. I need to remember how many kohai (people who are lower in rank than oneself) have responded positively to my help in class. Karate is empowering and I take pride in building that into people’s lives.

Click Here for The Professionals – Part Two

Drive Away

My little dog loves it when I take him in the car to go walk someplace. One morning I pulled over at a public park. I stopped the engine, undid my seat belt and then saw a guy purposefully approaching my car. He was looking straight at me. Yeah, I know I’m more likely to be the victim of someone I know, but still, us women can’t afford to take chances. Maybe the guy was completely harmless, maybe he needed help. But I got a bad vibe from the way he was walking towards my car. I put my seat belt back on, started the engine, and drove on to another destination.

Some of you might have noticed I didn’t give a description of the guy. Maybe one or two of you are thinking that race was a factor in my decision to drive off. Well, it was. Let me just say this: after I graduated from high school, every single time I have felt like I might need to fight and every single time I’ve chosen to get outta Dodge it was because of a white man. Every. Single. Time. The one time when someone touched me inappropriately? He was a white man. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m white – even down to my surname. That’s not to say that I will never be touched, assaulted or verbally abused by anyone else. And no, I don’t hate white men. I’ve got plenty of ’em as friends and one of ’em for keeps (my husband), so there!

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

YES, I “know Karate.” It’s not magic, folks. Even though my training gives me a better chance of survival, I could be disfigured, crippled, raped, and/or fatally wounded anyway. Karate doesn’t stop bullets and knife wounds are nasty. NO, I do NOT want to prove myself in the streets (that is to say the rational part of me doesn’t want to). Us karateka are not trained to pick fights. We are trained to respect others – and picking a fight is disrespectful. Driving away is the opposite of picking a fight. So… I guess in a twisted way I showed respect to the guy.

Wait… Whaaaat? I showed respect to some guy who gave me the heebie jeebies? Some jerk who’s up to no good isn’t worthy of respect, right? Well, so what if I showed him a bit of respect? It didn’t cost me anything but a bit more gas to drive to another park five minutes away. Frankly, it was the best I could do for him.

Let’s say I was wrong about that guy. I know myself. I would have entered that situation with adrenaline pumping, suspicious to the core. Sure, I’d have listened to whatever request he made. But no matter how reasonable the request or how easy it would have been to grant it, more than likely I would’ve snapped, “Nope, sorry. Can’t help you. Good luck.” I’d have been edging away from him the whole time. I would have let my silly little dog yap away (there are times when I do NOT tell my dog to shut the heck up). How would any of that have been respectful?

What about my right to receive respect? What about my right to walk my dog in a public park? Yes, I have those rights, but I choose my battles. If someone threatens my family member all bets are off. That’s worth fighting for. But let’s say that I put exactly that high value on my right to go to the park of my choice.

Let’s say I got out of my car. Let’s say that guy attacked me. Let’s say I sent him to the hospital or the morgue. There’s a good chance I’d have to explain my actions in court.

What would the judge ask?

“Why didn’t you just drive away? There are other parks within five minute’s drive of where you were.”

I’d be in trouble. Big time. You see, there’s such a thing as accountability. If you’re carrying a gun you can’t just discharge it anytime you want. Same goes for fighting skills. “Self defense” wouldn’t have held water in this case. Self defense was me avoiding the situation altogether. All anyone can truly say is I was rude. I’ll own that but I won’t feel guilty for it.

Maybe it was rude of me to spray a bit of dust and gravel over the guy’s trousers. That’s how close he was when I pulled out. But I’d have been pretty rude to him anyway even if I’d talked to him. Something I’ve heard in almost every self defense class I’ve attended is us women want to be polite and there are people who will take advantage of that. The part of me that wanted to be polite did yammer a bit as I drove to the next park. At the same time, the dark part of me, the part of me that would love to prove myself in battle, grumbled and growled. Folks, I’m human. This is why we have areas of our brains that are dedicated to being reasonable and rational. Karate is one way of training those reasonable and rational parts of our psyche. As a bonus, you get a good workout 🙂

Update: Two weeks after I wrote the draft for this post, I saw the guy again, two miles away from where I’d seen him last. He was shirtless (good thing the weather was nice) and waving his arms around, discussing something very animatedly with absolutely no one. I pity him and hope he gets the help he needs.

P. S. – if you think avoiding a totally unnecessary fight is cowardly, you need help. Seriously. Get counseling before you get thrown in jail.

Gasshuku 2019


This year’s Gasshuku (camp) was led by Isao Gary Tsutsui Sensei of Colorado Budokan, his wife Sensei Candice, and daughter Sensei Akemi. The last time we were privileged to have Tsutsui Sensei lead Gasshuku (in 2014) I was a very new 9th kyu – in fact, I’d tested at Gasshuku. I remember at that camp one time I found myself without a partner to work with and I was struggling with the material. Tsutsui Sensei came right over and worked with me until I could manage on my own. Five years later I had a better grasp of the material, but most assuredly I needed help from time to time. Sensei Candice and Sensei Akemi were often right there whenever I didn’t quite make the mark. There were recurring themes throughout the weekend. I’d like to touch on some of them.

Usually at Gasshuku we have guests from other styles not just as participants, but also as instructors. As I’ve written before, getting out of our little Shindo Jinen-ryu groove is tremendously beneficial. We spent the weekend immersed in the Shotokan style. Because in our organization we perform kata in accordance with the old shitei standards, I have a rudimentary knowledge of “how things work” in Shotokan as gleaned from the two kata I’ve memorized (Jion and Kanku Dai). As often as I could remember I tried to BE a Shotokan student. Sensei Candice and Sensei Akemi were there to remind me when I lapsed! The body dynamics are a little different, and it was good to add to my tiny little store of knowledge of the Shotokan style.

Speaking of body dynamics, Sensei Candice Tsutsui is a physiotherapist. She has designed warm up routines for karate. Her daughter Sensei Akemi led us through these warm ups. Warm ups have changed over time, and the Tsutsui family is on top of the latest research and principles on exercise, using the same principles that professional athletes employ. I was very glad that my little-old-lady instincts have been correct: there are certain things I like to avoid during warm up and other movements that feel right for me. We learned a few principles and exercises that were new to me. As a result, I’ve expanded my warm-up routine and no longer feel guilty for avoiding the things that are unhelpful. I am, after all, not as young as I once was, so if I’m going to train hard, I must train smart.

Not only do I strive to train smart, I have for decades tried to teach smart. It started when I helped teach karate when I was a teenager and continued through home schooling two “out of the box” children. For most of my second karate journey I have been helping to teach – I’ve come full circle. I’m still learning about teaching. One nugget from this weekend that I gleaned is about teaching kata. First teach a series of drills based on the kata – breaking down the most challenging movements into even as few as one or two steps. I appreciate having another tool in my teaching toolbox!

One of the best things about Gasshuku is there are no cell phone towers nearby. We can’t retreat into our phones. We spend time together. It’s also a little taste of Japanese culture. All of us pitch in for chores. We go the extra mile for our sensei(s) (instructors) – inviting them to “cut in” ahead of us in the food line, refilling their coffee, and taking away their dirty dishes. Of course there’s also time when we can relax and catch up with friends. All this builds camaraderie. I’ve seen the benefits of taking time to build relationships in family life, in professional life, and in Karate life. It helps to smooth out the politics that are a part of every group of two or more human beings. I’ve always been peripherally aware of how heavily we invest in one another, but this weekend solidified my appreciation of the relationships we’re all building.

As usual, the lessons from Gasshuku have gone beyond the spiffy techniques that were taught. Of course I have added things to my repertoire. Yes, I’ve learned about exercise and how to warm up. I’ve even learned another tool for teaching kata. You see how this is going out and out, expanding from the physical techniques to tools and principles? And surrounding everything are the relationships: Inter-dojo, intra-dojo, senpai, kohai, sensei, peers, mentors, mentees… We have etiquette to guide us in all these relationships, but what it all boils down to is respect and friendship. It’s karate at its best.

Long Format Self Defense – Day 3

Click here for Day 1

Click here for Day 2

The final three hour session was a bit of a potpourri. Review, elbow strikes, escapes, combinations of techniques, and a little ground work (which also was a bit of a review for me). As with the previous two sessions I was there to learn their techniques, not show off mine. Nonetheless, my muscle memory and my trained mindset decided to take over three times. The instructors were the only ones who knew about my martial arts training, and I’m surprised none of my fellow participants asked after those three little stunts.

The one time I could hide my proficiency was when we were practicing elbow strikes. I absolutely knew my petite teen partner was not used to holding kick bags for someone who is executing a technique with full speed and power. Also, the angle we were to hold the kick bags for the elbow strike to the face was a bit awkward for anyone. I didn’t put much power into it. Some day I’d love to practice elbow strikes with someone who is experienced in holding the kick bag.

Later on, a bit of kata (forms) came out of me. The scenario was a big guy has grabbed both your forearms and is holding them above your head.  You bring your arms down and twist your forearms against the attacker’s thumbs to break free.  The instructor watched me, then said, “OK, now pretend that technique didn’t work on your first attempt.  So what you do is you bring your arms back up and try again.”  So I brought my arms back up and… Without even thinking, I performed the double age uke from Bassai Dai kata. My partner was quite surprised to find her grip broken and her arms flung wide.  I was annoyed because my muscle memory took over when I was supposed to be learning something different.  Some day I would love to try the double age uke on someone who can grip hard.

Later on we were practicing escaping a two-handed grab to the neck (opponent facing you). To finish, we were supposed to turn towards the exit and then run. I turned the full 360 towards my “opponent.” I get it – I’m supposed to run away, and yes, running is entirely appropriate when my life is in danger. But here’s the thing – if this is what automatically comes out of me in a high-pressure situation I have to think about what’s next. In many kata (forms) a turn can mean you’re executing a block and following up with an attack (I’m giving an example of omote bunkai, or literal interpretation of kata). Because I didn’t see any techniques coming at me I paused, holding kamae dachi (the instructors called their variation “defensive stance”). In that pause, I remembered I was supposed to run towards the door. Oops.

Later, we practiced kicking from the ground. This was somewhat familiar territory for me and I distinctly remember the first time I did this. Each participant took turns practicing with one of the instructors. He was pretty good at dancing out of the way, and I found myself caught up in the game of trying to come close without hurting him. This was no problem whenever I targeted his gut, but his knees were a different story. I had to execute quite a lot of control. I was so busy concentrating on not inflicting damage and having so much fun that I didn’t realize I was supposed to end it when he stepped off the mats. The instructor had to remind me to get up and run the other way. Awww, I wanted to keep playing!

At least during the next part of ground work, I didn’t have muscle memory working against me. It was working for me. As I’d learned a couple of years ago, body dynamics are key. Twisting my hips to put more power into what I’m doing is becoming familiar for executing techniques while I’m upright in one of several Karate stances. It felt natural for ground work this time around. I’m starting to think that if I have a chance to do a little cross-training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, I’ll do it! So many martial arts, so little time…

Takeaways for my karate:

1) Elbow strikes.  I need to up my game in Empi and Pinan Sandan.

2) I found it really difficult to execute a mae mae gheri (their “snap kick”) when my hips were hanme in kamae dachi (their “defensive stance”).  Since this last class I’ve seen this demonstrated by a sensei in class. I guess I’m just going to have to develop it.

Post script:

My main objective in taking these seminars was to learn how a long-format self defense seminar works. I kept my mouth shut and listened to the other students, noting how they learn. Staying silent meant I maximized my time by listening to questions they had. I wish I could write about that aspect more, but that feels like a breach of privacy. Yes, I’ve written about it before, but… I just can’t bring myself to do it this time around. Some day I will look over my private notes and remember what each woman needed to hear from our instructors. This will help my future students.

If anyone is interested in the organization I trained with, here’s the link to the R. A. D. organization.

Long Format Self Defense – Day 2

Click here for Day 1

Today’s post is a bit of a potpourri. I had a bit of trouble finding a cohesive theme. I’m not sure how I can link my impressions and takeaways. Oh well, this is, after all, a blog. Informal writing is OK for a blog 🙂

Differences

Even kicks that are “lousy” by karate standards could hurt someone. If everyone at the second seminar had been taking a 10th kyu test (for the very first rank one earns in karate) I’d have flunked every single person in that room including the instructors AND myself. That said, some of the ladies were able to generate enough force to hurt family jewels. I was surprised at how much force I myself was able to generate with “lousy” kicks. Teaching “proper” karate kick dynamics isn’t necessary for self defense seminars. Attendees are not karateka, they are ladies who want some tools they can easily use. Key word: easily.

Similarities

I observed that with other techniques some of the women made the very same mistake that a lot of beginning and intermediate karateka make. Heck, I still struggle sometimes after five years. They are trying to “muscle through” a technique. Think about pushing or lifting a heavy object – that feeling is exactly what you don’t want in karate. “Muscling through” just slows you down, which is detrimental to any given technique.

Force equals mass times acceleration. I can’t accelerate my fist if my own tense muscles are holding me back. My fist isn’t massive, but accelerate it, and – ouch. Pressure is force divided by surface area, which is why we hit with the itty bitty first two knuckles of the fist. It’s simple physics. That said, biology might be working against people who are new to the concept of fast is loose/loose is fast. It takes conscious, consistent effort and time to develop fast-twitch muscle fibers. One must learn coordination in order to get the right muscles to tighten and release at the exact right time. The techniques offered in this class did not need this level of coordination.

An Experiment

I’m conducting an experiment in psychology. I have not identified myself as a martial artist to my classmates. The instructors know. One question on the paperwork we filled out on Day 1 asked about martial arts experience. So far the instructors have respected my wishes to keep silent about the fact that I am a karateka. I have been keeping silent so as to observe the class and the instructors better.

I should have anticipated that my skill and spirit influences the class. My sensei(s) have many times remarked on the phenomenon of how even just one person’s good attitude can lift a class. With the self defense instructors’ encouragement I executed the techniques full speed and power, and yeah, it was pretty impressive. Because my classmates don’t know I’m a martial artist, they think, “Well, if that’s how it’s supposed to be done, I’d better up my game,” and “If she can do it, I can too.” The instructors encourage us to be quite loud, so I have no problem being an example of how to kiai (yell) the word “NO!” If the other women find out that I am a karateka, they might think, “Oh, she’s good at that only because she’s in karate.” That’s not what I want to see happen.

The Letter

At the end of the 2nd session of the women’s self defense class, the instructors handed attendees a letter for our Significant Others. This letter asks the Significant Others to please refrain from asking us students for demonstrations of what we’re learning. The idea behind this is the instructors teach us to use full speed and power. They don’t want us to get into the habit of doing anything less because they fear that if us students get used to that via demonstrating what we’ve learned, we’ll be ineffective when push comes to shove.

I get that – I’ve had recurring nightmares of being in a fight for my life and pulling my punches just like I would in sparring. This program is designed for women who don’t want to study a martial art (it even says that in the book), so there’s no need to teach control. But I haven’t had those nightmares since I re-started Karate five years ago. I know my abilities. I know I can spar with children without hurting them, and I know I can send an adult to the hospital. It takes far longer than nine hours to develop both control and power. I could demonstrate what I’m learning to my husband without compromising my abilities.

However, my husband will abide by the letter. He will not ask me to demonstrate what I’m learning in the self defense class. Not because he fears that my abilities will be diminished. Oh no, it’s because he doesn’t want to be treated to a nerdy, lengthy analysis of each technique, how it compares to my training, the philosophies behind karate and the self-defense organization (R. A. D.), the differences in teaching beginning karateka and teaching women you might not ever see again… Yeah, he just wants to avoid my geek fest.

Takeaway for My Karate

I can adapt even if my muscle memory is screaming at me to execute the kicks “properly.” I still have a bad habit of dropping my hands when kicking – ARGH!