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Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Superficial Sensei? Don't judge a book by it's cover...


When we look for a Sensei or a teacher, we search for certain traits, personality, knowledge and characteristics.  Often times we can only get a glimpse watching or taking a trial class.  One of the best ways to judge a teacher is to observe the students, on and off the mats.  Are they friendly, welcoming, serious about their training with a sense of humour or are they arrogant, unfriendly, or aloof?  This tends to be reflective of the teacher.

But what does a good teacher actually look like?  If you had to pick based largely on physical appearance, who would you choose?  And how much are you influenced, consciously or unconsciously, by how a Sensei looks? 

At first glance (pun intended), you’ll likely want to respond that a person’s appearance has nothing to do with your selection criteria.  After all, we’re all striving for perfection of character in our studies, right?

Truth be told, we all have our biases.  This isn’t always a bad thing.  It’s part of the human condition.  Some are based on a survival instinct.  Many we have ingrained at a subconscious level.  Some of these unconscious biases are incongruous with our conscious positions or beliefs.  Our society and the media have programmed us to respond to certain physical characteristics. 

So what does this have to do with selecting a martial arts teacher?  Who do we naturally gravitate towards?

As I mentioned, our unconscious, or subconscious biases, are often at odds with our consciously held beliefs.


No?  Pop quiz:

 1.    Male, 40’s, muscular and lean, military or MMA background
     2.  Female, 40’s, short and a tiny bit plump, works as a mid level manager in a      
          large company

You’ve now got a picture in your head.

So, who’s the better pick to teach self defense?  We could all answer that it doesn’t matter as long as they had the knowledge, skills and abilities but without an extended period of time observing or being taught, we have a tendency to assign value to factors that may or may not be accurate.

If you picked number 1, are you now defending your position because of his background?  That’s fine, but if I hadn’t mentioned the military or MMA background, would your initial pick have changed from the fit male to the shorter, 'softer' female?  This isn’t an attack or criticism, simply something to think about.

Even if we’re able to logically and consciously dispense with gender and physical traits, could we still be influenced unconsciously?

The curious thing is that we often respect or seek out martial arts teachers that are, well, bad asses.  Impressive physical specimens, who look tough, even a little intimidating.  The type of guy (or gal) that looks like they could kick our butts.


There’s nothing really wrong with that.  We want to learn from people that we figure could easily ‘take us' in a fight.  You don’t seek out someone to teach you that you believe you could easily beat in a physical altercation.  You want to learn to be tough from someone who is tough, tougher than you.  You want to learn to be just as tough, tougher.

But what does that really mean?  Are we potentially ruling out people who may have more to offer than we initially think?

Who, as a teacher is really more impressive?  And what do we hope to learn?  If our true goal is to learn to deal with real violence and to survive if attacked, who should we look to?  Should we pick the big, strong, amazingly fit person, of the more average one?

When weighing our options, we need to make sure we balance all the factors.  What’s actually more impressive, someone more physically fit that you are doing a technique on you effectively, or someone less imposing doing the same?

In styles such as Jiu Jitsu, you use your opponent’s energy and force against them.  It is an effective martial art for learning how to defeat a bigger, more powerful attacker.  Sometimes referred to as the “gentle art” – ha!

How, then, you answer the question of who’s more impressive?

The vast majority of time, the smaller, less powerful individual will have a higher level of skill in their technique.  They won’t have the luxury of being able to ‘power through’ a poor application of technique to compensate.  They will often be superior in the way they teach as they had to learn it properly right from the start.  There are no cutting corners; you have to learn to do it right or you’re in trouble.

Back to the pop quiz.

Obviously, there was not nearly enough information to make a proper assessment, and gender was thrown in as a means for a little introspection, but the fact remains -  It may be better to seek out someone of lesser physical stature who has learned his or her art to such a level that they can effectively defend themselves and teach others, as opposed to a genetically gifted athlete.  

Those that have had to work harder for their accomplishments are often better teachers and more skilled than the ‘naturals’.

Appearances can be deceiving.


Picture Morihei Ueshiba, especially later in his life.  You could argue he didn’t look very intimidating physically.  Imagine you passed on training with him due to his somewhat diminutive status as compared to many other ‘tough guys’.

It may be better to seek out someone who can effectively defend themselves when they’re at their worst, as opposed to someone at their best and at their peak. 

A short, heavy, injured person who can take defend themselves may have more to teach you than an elite athlete in their prime that can do 10 minute rounds without breaking a sweat.  

Obviously, physical fitness is an important component of martial arts training, and it can only make things easier for you.  For pure quality of technique and teaching effectiveness, however, it may not be the only pre-requisite.

Keep an open mind.  

An important lesson in the martial arts.  And in life...



Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Perseverance


per·se·ver·ance
ˌpərsəˈvirəns/
noun
noun: perseverance
1  steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.  

The journey on the path of Budo can be trying at times. 

When your training plans get derailed, be it from injuries, family issues, scheduling, monetary constraints, time, distance, work etc., it can be challenging to get back on track.  Obviously, I haven’t posted in some time.  I was shocked to see how long it had been.  The last (nearly) a year has been a struggle for me.

I’ve suffered several injuries, some new and some nagging ones that refuse to go away.  Couple this with work issues, illness, geographic issues (my Sensei is further away now), and competitions for my time and energy and I’ve found myself in a state of…not quite depression, but at the least, severe frustration with my training and my long term martial goals. 

It has seemed as if each time I take one step forward, I’m forced to take two steps back. 

The logical part of my brain tells me this is all part of the journey, which takes time and patience and perseverance to succeed.  That it’s a lifelong pursuit and there will be bumps along the way.  That I need to adapt my training style to manage my injuries and that I need to concentrate on time-management, on eating well, sleeping more, meditating.  The list goes on and on.  Exactly the advice I’d give to someone else who was going through a tough time with their training.

The not-so-logical part of brain has not been particularly good at listening to the logical side, however.  Each time I aggravated an old injury, or pulled my back, or got sick, or had to choose between my other priorities in life or had to cancel class as I couldn’t get away from work, I got more and more down about things.  All the positive self-talk in the world didn’t pull me out of my dark mood. 

It became so bad that I realized that training, or thinking about training, was turning into a negative thing in my head.  This journey of so many years, this labour of love, was akin to a virus running in the background, eating away at my positivity.  Training was becoming a bad thing. 

The logical side, or course, knew that all the issues I was going through were contributing to my general malaise over the martial arts, but that doesn’t always help.  My journey has given me so many positive experiences; it has truly enriched my life, giving me friends and memories I will always cherish.

I did what I had to.  I quit for a bit.  Well, let’s call it a hiatus.  I know I can never quit, but I had to ‘unplug’ for a bit as my lack of training was starting to consume my waking, and non-waking, thoughts.  I was mad when I couldn’t go, and when I could, I was exhausted and had to manage injuries and just didn’t feel like it.

So, I’ve been on hiatus.  There was a certain sense of relief that washed over me when I actually ‘went on record’ about taking a break.  My Sensei and main training partner were understanding and supportive.  Sensei’s response?  Simply, “We’ll be here”.  Meaning he’s always there when I’m ready, no pressure.  Comfort in that. 

I’m not back yet but I’m almost there, mentally.  I’m still dealing with injuries and other issues, but lately, after putting Jiu Jitsu out of my mind for a few months, my thoughts have been drifting back.  I miss it again, not pressured by any sense of obligation, but because something positive is missing from my life.  I’m noticing a fight scene in a show or movie that I rewind and break down, I’ve started visiting some blogs again, and I’ve been consulting on defensive tactics training again.  My next step is adjusting my training to compensate for my injuries. 

Take note:  Train safely now.  Crazy training in your youth takes its toll down the road…trust me…

I’m learning an important lesson about perseverance, I think.  As it pertains to training, perseverance doesn’t translate into constant training.  It means not giving up completely or losing site of the big picture.  If you need to press ‘pause’ from time to time in order to keep going, do it.  The path is long and winding and there’ll always be a few bumps along the way.


I know many of you out there have had low points/struggles on your journeys in the martial arts.  I’d love to hear some of the strategies you used to get back in the game, both mentally and physically. 

Please feel free to leave a comment or send me an email.
Train well.  Be safe,

JM

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Bruce Lee and the Lost Art of Cursive Writing



I was listening to the news the other day, and I was surprised to hear that cursive writing is no longer being taught in many schools.  I was not aware that it has been phased out in several school boards.  One such institution is trying to revive the practice of cursive handwriting.

My first impression is that it should be taught.  After all, I learned it and look how great I turned out...

Then again, when is the last time I actually wrote anything?  Work reports are all on computer, reminder ‘post-it’ notes are printed, and notebooks are print, mainly capital letters, we text more than we talk…

Come to think of it, I haven’t written out a hand written letter in over a decade, maybe longer.  In fact, I can’t remember the last time I actually wrote anything out, cursively speaking.


Yet I’m still left with the feeling that something will be lost by not learning it.  What, exactly, I still can’t pin down. 

My inner debate got me thinking about Bruce Lee.  One of his concepts/beliefs was that one should keep what is useful and discard what it not.  Makes sense for self defense.  If a technique doesn’t work for you, due to size, shape, physical condition, etc, throw it away.  Why keep practicing something you won’t ever use?  The issue with this, of course, it that it’s not always apparent what will be of use.  Not at first, anyway.  I discussed this in a bit more detail in my post found here.


I still maintain that for self defense technique, you often must first learn and explore and experiment with a technique before you can toss it away.  It is tempting to discard a technique that doesn’t seem to work for you when you’re just learning it.  From my experience, several techniques I initially thought I would never use are now my ‘go-to’ moves.  I needed to really understand them before I was able to make a proper assessment.

Does the same hold true for cursive writing?  Does the value of learning it trump its actual use once learned?  You could argue that it forces neural pathways, increases dexterity and fine motor skills etc. but is of limited real world value. 
The same could be said of (some) kata out there today.  I’ve seen a whole bunch of forms and kata out there that are pretty questionable on the whole ‘real world’ scale.  They may not have always been (not trying to kick off a ‘value of kata’ argument, that’s for another time), but they certainly are now.

Should cursive writing still be taught?  Does Bruce Lee’s assertion that you should discard what is not useful apply here?  Food for thought.


For now, I’m off to write a letter, by hand, just to remind myself what it’s like…

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Good business or Good Martial Arts? The Passion vs. Profit Debate


I’ve heard it said often that you can’t make money at the martial arts unless you’re ripping your students off.  I don’t totally agree but there are truly two sides to teaching martial arts. 

 1. A passion for teaching martial arts
     2. The business side of things

There are fantastic martial artists and teachers who fail at running a school or dojo and there are so-so ones that succeed and make a fair amount of money in the process. 

Is it ok to make enough money to teach martial arts full-time?  I’ve always been around people who had full-time jobs and taught on the side.  They often criticized anyone who ran a big school.  I originally agreed, shunning the bigger, flashier schools with lots of merchandise, fees for stripes, strips, stickers etc.  It seemed wrong somehow.

Now I’m not so sure.  Running a club (for profit) is a business.  A business must have a plan.  When we compare what we pay for other services, it’s surprising how little we want to pay for martial arts training.  Many people wouldn’t hesitate to pay much more for yoga, exercise classes in the park, spinning etc.  These are all great pursuits by the way, but to many, $100.00 a month for 1 and ½ to 2 hour classes, 3 times a week seems on the high end.  That’s 12 classes a month minimum if you went to all of them.   That’s $8.33 per class, or a little over $4 bucks and hour.  Your average yoga/meditation/mindfulness class will run you much higher, often 3 to 4 times as much (per hour).

Still, you aren’t going to get a lot of people signing up for a martial arts club willing to pay $200-$300 a month.  So you’ve got to do other things.


Merchandise is one way.  Most uniforms, pads etc. can have a decent markup.  Kids are good money makers.  Parents tend to be willing to pay lots more for their kids to be in martial arts than they are for themselves.  Compare other children’s activities, sports, clubs etc. and martial arts are a bargain.

If you could make a living teaching martial arts, is there anything wrong with that?  If you continued to improve your own skills to give your students the best possible training you can provide, isn’t that a good thing?

I’ve revisited this topic due to some recent visits I’ve made to some clubs in hopes of supplementing my current training regimen.

I watched a class, and was struck by…how shall I put this…poor the instruction was.  There was clearly no real knowledge base about how an attack might come in, or how a defense could be applied.  The people were, in my estimation, well intentioned.  I just felt they lacked the depth of knowledge surrounding the realities of violence.  They had clearly learned the techniques and were doing their best to pass them on, but I’m not sure they really understood them.  

And the students were serious about their training (which is good) but I felt they were getting technique that might not translate to the real world.  And they clearly didn’t know this.  I may sound overly harsh and don’t mean to be, but that’s what I saw.  Well intentioned instructors, hardworking respectful students, and positive energy.  The only thing lacking was consistent street worthy technique.  I should mention that some was decent.

The original point of all this was that this business was successful, with charts for grading fees, schedules, merchandise, t-shirts, gym bags, jackets, books, magazines etc.  This particular club has been successfully running for well over a decade.

There are (in my opinion), better qualified people to teach in the area, but few know how to make money in the arts.


Is it ok to make a living at the martial arts?  Does doing so mean an inferior training experience for students? 

Can you still find the depth of knowledge in the arts in a commercially successful martial arts school? 

It would be the dream of many to make a decent living in the martial arts.  Is it possible to do so without ‘selling out’?

Thoughts?