I know, I know. Martial artists have a certain aura, don’t they? They exude something different and unique, and others seem instantly attracted to them. Is it the athleticism, artistry, or combative creativity that makes them so interesting? Maybe it’s the way they carry themselves through life, their approach to negativity, or their courageous spirit.
It’s all of that, and more.
Martial artists, not to brag, are a special group. Black belts have taken a long, long journey full of frustration, fear, physicality, and fatigue. All students join with others who are devoted to personal achievement, and press the boundaries until they expand. They are an exclusive group, but you are always invited to join. The fact is, martial artists have made a decision to be “more.” Martial artists, though, are human, with frailties and faults that are easily exposed because of their impact in the world. They are regular people who step outside of themselves to train, teach, and embrace life’s mysteries with the gumption of a fighter.
Here are some of my personal obstacles that I’ve had to face in my martial arts journey.
1. I Question My Abilities.
Martial artists have a way of making everything seem like it’s going to work out, when in fact they have to convince themselves of that, just like you do. I am not invincible. I have to learn to be humble enough to allow learning to take its course and accept the outcome. There are moments of insecurity and disbelief, and even times when I question my own abilities.
If a martial artist steps up to break a board, he does not know what exactly is going to happen. He may have done it a million times before. He has had many audiences and even the same people have held boards for him over and over. He is completely ready, but one slightly bad angle of his foot, one second too long of a breath, one twitch of his eyelid, and the whole thing falls apart. There is no guarantee that he will nail it…again. Right before he cracks the board, he reminds himself hthat he can do it.
“Who am I, anyway?” I battle in my own head. Once that battle begins…when motherhood and job pressures and fatigue settle their way into my mind, I lose essential focus and even worse, I question my abilities. I enter class wondering, “am I prepared for this?” I show a technique and ask myself, “will this really work?” I tell someone to perform a skill that I probably can’t perform without a little practice.
Then, before it’s too late, I crack the board, so to speak. I remind myself that of course I’m doing the right thing, a good job, and suddenly the board is split and I am whole again.
Yes, I am trained, but not perfect. I have bad days and tired days and days when I wish I didn’t have the responsibilities of a martial arts instructor because I’m just not that sure I’m being a good one. I want the same thing you want, success, but just wanting it does not make it happen. Success is not a sure thing for anyone, even if you are a well-trained, highly sought expert martial artist.
You see, success is success. Slice it, dice it, look at it from any angle, but it’s still success and even I want a taste of it. The obstacle presents itself when I question myself, which can ultimately prohibit me from ever attaining it.
2. I Can’t Teach Everyone
Karate teachers need to be patient. They need to be knowledgeable and also parlay information in an easy to understand format. You would think that if they are proficient in those things that they can teach just about anyone.
In my class, I want students to enjoy class and be happy, but also understand the basics, be proficient in the katas and practice their skills and drills with some precision. I mistakenly believe that I can teach anyone, but I cannot.
One year a young boy came to class. He was so aggressive and always touching the other kids. He didn’t listen well and he was disruptive. At first it was a challenge for me. I told myself, “I’ve always been able to help kids like this find self-discipline and focus, this one is no different.” I tried. I talked to him. I was patient. I pulled him aside and made him sit when he was acting out. I was stern, I was soft, I was everything in between.
He would not behave.
I knew deep inside he was probably trying. I felt like a failure. It was the first time I had to tell a parent his child was not welcomed in my class. You might as well stick a knife through my heart. I lost my own battle. I was not only unsuccessful, I was not a good teacher; at least that is how I felt.
When he stopped coming to class, things settled down again. The other kids didn’t have to try to avoid him and I didn’t have to keep a constant watch on him or spend my time disciplining instead of teaching. It was the right choice, and while I hope I didn’t discourage that little boy too much, I know that I did the right thing. He was not ready. I shouldn’t carry remorse about it, but as a teacher it was disheartening.
My obstacle was is in believing that every student can be a martial artist when I want them to be. Now I know that some are not ready to practice the age-old tradition until the time is right for them.
3. I Make Mistakes.
Martial artists, black belts, and martial arts teachers are put on a bit of a pedestal. That is nice, except to say that some expectations placed upon them are very high. One slip up and others perceive them as awful teachers. One question that instructor cannot answer and he may be labeled inept. It’s not easy knowing everything and being a role model all the time. Martial artists need a few “extra credits.” If they make a mistake maybe they can’t just chalk it up to a bad day and use that credit to make it disappear.
I am the type of teacher who hopes to share martial arts traditions in our modern world, to apply concepts and philosophies to life via the physical learning of karate. While I do my best to promote safety and help the class work together in harmony, I still make mistakes. Some are obvious, some are not. Maybe I forgot to put a mat out before I asked a student to perform a skill where he may fall. What if I pushed someone to perform when they are just not feeling well? I didn’t invite a student to test when he was ready. I called a child by the wrong name. The burden as a teacher is heavy. There is an underlying premise that instructors are to be trusted and respected and not make mistakes.
The general public sees me as sort of an expert, but I know that there are more black belts levels to be had. While I have learned certain skills and techniques to proficiency, expertise requires continued learning.
The obstacle I face is in trying to not make mistakes, but there’s no controlling that. I will make them and other people will see them. As a martial artist I like to think I am sharing the truth, the facts, the ins-and-outs of martial arts; but, there is no denying that I make a lot of mistakes along the way.
4. I Don’t Know Every Style That Exists.
“I took martial arts!” a stranger tells me after he finds out I’m a martial artist. They conversation always takes a certain route: “oh, what style?” I ask. Then, before I know it, he spews out some style I’ve never heard before in my life, and I say “okay, cool,” and just go with the flow of the conversation.
Do I know what style is talking about? Not necessarily.
Some practitioners of martial arts may not even realize that today there are a million different styles out there, half of them made up from bits and pieces of other martial arts. Even what I call tang soo do may be a little different from the original one. Some martial artists open their own dojos with their own versions of katas and variations and blend it all together.
Am I really expected to know that style?
All martial arts styles should be respected. Truly, it doesn’t matter if a student is learning a style that has been blended from other styles or a strict traditional one or it is taught by an Asian teacher or an American master; the thing that matters the most is that he is a practitioner.
I practice a Korean Karate. I’m not a researcher and I don’t particularly read books on the subject of karate. I’m sort of modern-day ninja and I’m not historical about martial arts beginnings. All martial artists don’t study the same martial art and don’t know what every style is. Think about a doctor or lawyer. Does the doctor know every medical question or does he just specialize in one thing? Have you ever asked a litigation attorney a real estate question? He will direct you to a real estate attorney. They don’t know every type medicine or field of law.
The obstacle I must acknowledge is that I will never know or understand every style and I need a diplomatic way of responding to someone who wants to talk about their unkown-to-me style. Thank goodness there are always similarities in kicks or punches, or katas, or sparring, or other skills that are general enough for me to compare.
Many More
Gosh, no, these aren’t the only obstacles that have creeped into my martial arts world. I figured out one valuable lesson about all the little bumps in the road and that is I just have to keep going. I will on occasion question my abilities, and more than that, make mistakes. I will come across students who are simply not ready to learn. I will never know every style and the best I can do is be respectful and diplomatic. All of these things, though, I believe actually make me a better teacher.
I can relate to my students, their mishaps, their bad days. When I tell them that I understand how they feel after making a mistake or having an embarrassing moment, they believe me and find comfort in that. When I tell them that I’ve wiped a tear or two of my own on the sleeve of my gi, they feel better as I wipe theirs.
There is nothing wrong with obstacles. They make us better, teach us compassion, help us grow. I will always share myself with others, my readers, my students, my listeners, my followers, my connections, and anyone willing to listen because my obstacles will give them guidance and help them to overcome their obstacles.
Oh, I am far from perfect, but I can and will overcome obstacles. If you want, you can learn from yours and overcome them, too.
My obstacles are far from over, but I know this: they will never stop me from Winning at Life.
Andrea
Very good read.
I’ve recently made the mental transition from “martial arts hobbiest” to “martial artist” and am working hard for my 2nd Kyu with the hopes of getting my black belt by the time I’m 40 (in five years).
I’m not really thinking too far past that point presently, but this post is a good reminder that there’s still more learning and growing to do once one reaches that shining pedestal of 1st Dan.
First of all, best of luck in your journey to black belt. There is always more learning and growing to do. I experience it every day through my martial art. I think when we are in our early belts we fail to recognize ourselves as true martial artists, but we are. I’m glad you’ve reached that point! Thank you for reading and please keep in touch!
“I can’t teach everyone.”
That’s a big one. No matter how many languages you speak, there will always be some people who don’t understand you. And that’s okay!
The sooner you recognize the people you can’t help, the sooner you can focus on the ones you can. And don’t worry– the students who leave will eventually find a teacher who speaks their language… if they keep looking!
Thanks for sharing, Andrea!
Thanks, Ando! And, I’m so lucky to be able to learn from YOU!
Ossu! [bow]
Thanks for reminding us lower ranks that Senseis are human too 🙂 It was harder for me to grasp this when I was a teenager because, well, I was a teenager (LOL!!!) As an adult, I actually appreciate my Senseis more than ever because they are human and I strive to give them the assurance they can be human around me both on and off the mats.
Thanks also for reminding us the journey doesn’t stop at black belt!
[bow]
Sure thing, KarateMama! As adult students, it is easier to see. The recent death of my Sensei (which was determined to be a suicide) clearly shows that teachers are not untouched when it comes to dealing with personal issues and flaws and human truths. And, as for me, I openly remind others that I am still a student, too, in many, many ways!
The reason that martial arts instructors such as yourself face those various obstacles has to do with Hollywood’s fascination with martial arts. While being a martial artist is a very noble and difficult way of life, to the layman, martial artists are shown to be these invincible individuals capable of impossible feats of strength and skill. This post serves as a way to say, “Sorry, we’re only human!” 🙂 As I read the part about you feeling as if you failed when it came to not being able to teach that one student, I wanted to let you know that you did NOT fail. The failure is on the child’s parents. I never understand why parents who have children with behavioral problems want to dump them off on martial arts instructors. It’s not right to do that. You can’t make a masterpiece out of mud. To me, what makes you a winner in that case is that you gave your all. You put your heart into trying to grow a “bad seed”. And I say that because the young man did not have the proper rearing at home. I think if the child really wanted to do well in your class, then he would have made a real effort to do so. Plus, he would have had the right encouragement from his parents. Yet, I say again: You did NOT fail. You merely found a way that did not work. So, if anything, it was a learning experience. If you’re still carrying any part of that remorse, my friend, I want you to go ahead and lay it down. I know I’m not an instructor, but I’ve certainly felt and experienced those disheartening moments. Anyhow, those times are past. We can’t win at life if we stay buried in what was. Winning at life is just like that bullet train heading for the future. Take care, my friend.
Thanks, Anwar! A lovely reply and I so very much appreciate it. Being an instructor is many, many things; but, most of all it is being myself under a layer of being a teacher. I will always have the quiet compassion and compelling desire to make things work out! Live and learn 🙂