This morning, Sensei led the 10am karate class over Zoom. He asked F to lead kihon. Actually yesterday, towards the end of our training with him, he told F that he’d like to see her tire everyone out through kihon. So she did. She pushed the class quite hard, with exercises in between movement sets, careful to give us little downtime.
Sensei remarked to another student, without specifying who, “So you want to be treated as an adult? You want to go through the adult shodan test? Your karate, right now, looks more like that of a twelve year old, rather than a fourteen year old. Show me what you can do!”
F thought he was talking to her. She was not aware that, earlier over the Zoom, one of the other students, a junior shodan who is about thirteen, asked to be able to try out for the adult shodan test. This, at least, was what Sensei had understood her to ask. A little later, we found out she’d meant something different. Our youngest adult shodan, at our dojo, was fourteen. So the request of a thirteen year old to take test would not have been a crazy request. Under the IFK, the rule is that a person must be sixteen years of age. When Sensei’s dojo joined the IFK, he and she had to make the case that she had the experience and maturity to be in her rank, and they did.
In any case, F thought Sensei had chastised her. Just yesterday, F told Sensei she wanted to be treated like an adult in relation to the martial arts club. She didn’t like the fact that, when the club came up in conversation, he addressed me and not her. F felt he did not include her. She wants him to include her, and phrased it this way: he treats her like a kid.
So he answered that she was seeking attention, and he wasn’t going to do it. He countered, she needs to find her own validation within, and not seek it from others. He gave her a good lecture on that topic.
Funny, as I listened to him, I thought of how I could apply that advice to my own work-life. Granted, it’s not quite the same when you are an adult in a professional context. Validation and attention are also tied up with money, promotions, and your ability to provide for your family. The stakes are much higher. Also, our society adds whole other layers of complexity in unconscious bias and institutional sexism and racism, if a professional is a woman, a mother or a person of color.
However, as an individual faced with these undercurrents, what do you do? You, also, must find validation within. You know what your education level is, what your own prior work experience is, and how hard you have worked to get to where you are. The obstacles you’ve overcome, the challenges you’ve faced down, the self-doubt and doubt of others that you’d had to stave off: you know these things about yourself. Therefore, like F, you must seek your own validation within. In the face of the storm, the pandemic, the discounting and doubting from others, strive to be unshaken. Know at your core what you are capable of, and what you are. Know you define it.
Given the conversation from yesterday, F decided to prove what she could do. So she kicked an already rigorous kihon up another notch. F exhausted us, and herself, in short order, so much so that Sensei stopped kihon to instruct us in breathing. He then gave F pointers as an instructor: the instructor, in order to be a good leader, cannot overextend her- or himself. “You shouldn’t give what you don’t have,” he put it succinctly. In this breathing exercise, you breathe in and hold your breath. While holding, you tense up your body, push your hands before you slowly, then release your breath.
We think the name for this kind of breathing is “ibari,” but we are not sure of the spelling. I tried to find reference to it in Oyama’s “This is Karate,” and it sounds similar to Nogare breathing, but isn’t quite the same. You use it to gather your strength and focus, if you will. F will check in with Sensei on the spelling. I’ll post a correction when we know for sure.
F modulated her instruction according to Sensei’s advice, and provided time for the grown-ups with our rusty joints to actually perform some of the kicks better, etc. She still pushed us hard. At the end of class, she had us hold stances: both Migi (right) and Hidari (left) Zenkutsu Dachi, and Kiba (horse-riding stance). We held the Zenkutsu Dachis for one minute and the Kiba Dachi for two minutes. This is while our legs are burning from her previously brutal kihon! Also, S, F and I had had that workout with Sensei the day before! So those four minutes felt very long.
At the conclusion of class, Sensei praised F. He praised her for her leadership as well as her physical fitness before the whole class.
After class, Sensei held a brief meeting of the Udancha to go over who would be testing for what. It was my first time to participate in the Udancha. I felt honored. Sensei also gave high praise to my S, and SL, the other highly accomplished junior shodan close to S’s age. That was so nice to hear.
When it was all over, S and I told F, “Hey, Sensei’s remark that someone was working out like a twelve year old? That wasn’t aimed at you.” Hearing this surprised and embarrassed her. Nevertheless, she was our tiger trainer as a result.
Finally, and unfortunately, the kids’ reward for that excellent workout was to help mop the floors. Followed by evening ice cream.
Osu!
