Category: Martial Arts

“That Wouldn’t Work…”

One of the most important aspects about being a traditional martial artist is that you need to have an open mind and be willing to learn new things. Even when those new things may not be directly related to your chosen style or art. There isn’t a martial arts style out there that hasn’t incorporated something, a technique, a strike, anything, from somewhere else. To say it isn’t so would be complete and utter bullshit. If you don’t have an open mind and be willing to learn, proficiency in the martial arts is effectively impossible.

In fact, I follow a number of martial arts pages and websites, given my own experience with martial arts. Considering that my style is Uechi Ryu karate, I follow a few Uechi pages on facebook, as well. What’s nice is being able to see others demonstrate the katas and techniques I grew up with, and see some of the work being done with my style around the globe. But more than that, I enjoy seeing some of the inspirational quotes from martial arts pioneers and authors.

Once in a while, I may see something particular, like a photo of someone practicing a technique in a certain way. And since it’s 2024 and everyone is a fuckin’ armchair warrior, there is always, without fail, at least one commenter that will always say something to the effect of: “That wouldn’t work in a real fight. That technique is completely useless…” Strong words from someone who’s likely sitting in an oversized armchair, eating Cheetos and has never trained in martial arts before.

Look, I get it… Some stuff may look ineffective on the surface and to the untrained eye, it may raise eyebrows as to why one would even practice or train in some techniques if they wouldn’t work in a real fight. But here’s the thing that most non-martial artists usually don’t understand; everything in martial arts has a purpose. It should be noted that I’m not saying everything is an effective technique. I said everything has a purpose. The distinction there is quiet important.

One shining example that I’ve seen more times than I count, is a photo of a karateka kicking straight up. Besides the usual comments about why a woman would be doing karate in a training bra and the usual pointless rhetoric that gets thrown around, many would usually comment that kicking straight above your head would be ineffective and basically useless in a real fight. The issue at hand and what needs to be recognized, is not the effectiveness of the kick itself but rather, the hard work the practitioner has endured in order to have that level of flexibility, balance and precision to execute that kick properly. The end result would be that her traditional kicks will share in those aspects and be all the more effective.

It’s comparable to all the chore-based crap that Mr. Miyagi had Daniel doing in the Karate Kid. Or Cobra Kai, I guess, if you’ve never seen the original 1984 movie (although I highly recommend you do, if you haven’t. Great flick!) Mr. Miyagi had Daniel waxing cars to develop his circle block, sanding decks to develop his low blocks and painting fences to develop his wrist blocks. Daniel becomes frustrated by the chores and tries to quit, until Mr. Miyagi demonstrates the skills Daniel has learned through muscle memory and repetition. Not exactly an apples-to-apples comparison but the idea is the same.

The point is, one may not always fully understand the thought or use behind a particular technique or method of training. While you may never have engaged in such specific methods yourself, exploring it instead of commenting on it may give you the insight you lack and you may even learn a thing or two. If you’re lucky. But dismissing or commenting on any demonstrated technique, form, method of training or style, without having first walked a mile in their shoes is not only short-sighted. It’s ignorant. Food for thought… ☯️

A Belt Is Just A Belt…

I still vividly remember the first night I stepped into Sensei’ dojo. I was young, impressionable yet still chock full of sarcasm and quasi-narcissism. However, I was extremely aware of my own reality and recognized that I needed something life-altering in order to keep myself alive. Karate turned out to be the path towards that goal. After that first night, it would only get better. That’s not to say there wasn’t a significant amount of literal blood, sweat and tears. But I was willing to work at it and do what had to be done to reach my goals.

As I began to grow and progress within the dojo, I started to take notice and recognize the different belt ranks and how they seemed to play a role in the overall flow of the dojo. Generally speaking and for most people, black belt is usually the ultimate goal for the students. Ironically, achieving black belt was never ACTUALLY one of my goals, although I would eventually achieve it in early 2002. It would be a turning point for me and a significantly important day in my life and my martial arts journey.

One phenomenon that I’ve come to realize over the years is that the majority of students who stick with it long enough to reach black belt soon quit afterwards. For me, I never actually permanently stepped away from karate, although I can admit there have been times in my life where I’ve taken a hiatus. Such a break is never inherently a bad thing; one sometimes needs to evaluate one’s life in order to rot determine next steps. But the one thing I never did is hang up my belt permanently. And such a thing should not be done. Although addressed in different ways in different styles, Sensei always said that passing black belt was a student’s way of formally asking his Sensei to teach him karate. Can’t do that, if you quit.

I recently read a post online by Steve Rowe. For those who may not be familiar, Steve Rowe is a martial artists and author and has posted a number for very insightful things about the martial arts. One of the best takes on black belt that I’ve read in while was from him. Here’s a taste…

“Taking responsibility for themselves.
Their own training.
Their own standards.
Their own progress.
Never blaming others for a setback.
Being stroking enough to help others.
THAT’s a black belt.”

I wish I could find the post again but I’m sure if you Google Steve Rowe, you’ll no doubt find it. But the post goes on to talk about how becoming a black belt is an investment in oneself and how passing black belt is like finding the ladder that you now need to climb. Not only do I truly love this perspective but I agree with it, as well. Over the past 22 years, I’ve continued to push myself, to learn new things, to teach others and to continue my training.

If I were back home, I have every confidence that I would have climbed the dan ranks without question by now. But deep down, I understand that it doesn’t matter. It’s just a belt. And the certificate is just a piece of paper. It’s what you do with those that knowledge once you have it that will make you an effective martial artist. Food for thought…☯️

Questions Of Respect And Dojo Etiquette…

If you’ve studied the martial arts for as long as I have, and I know that some you have, there’s a pretty good chance that at some point, you’ve trained in a dojo that was not your own. Either a neighbouring school of the same style or visiting a completely different style, eventually you may find yourself standing on the floor of an unfamiliar dojo. And not always by choice. When this happens, it’s important to bear in mind that their processes and etiquette may not be the same as what you’re used to.

For the most part, I’ve spent my entire martial arts journey training in my home dojo. While I may have dabbled and tried other dojos, I spent almost 20 straight years training at the New England Academy of Karate & Judo in Dalhousie, New Brunswick. Uechi Ryu Okinawan karate was our style but Sensei also held a black belt in judo and often included those techniques in our curriculum. It wasn’t until 2009, when I left New Brunswick to join the Force, that I was ”permanently” out of my home dojo. I put it in quotations because one never truly leaves the home dojo.

For the first few years, I trained on my own. I had the skills and experience that allowed me to do so. My concern was that being transferred and moving every few years made it unlikely that I would stick with another dojo for any significant period of time. It also negated the possibility of opening my own dojo, as i would be effectively abandoning my students come transfer time. The result was a quiet journey of training alone. But as we all know, eventually you need the dojo environment. There’s no substitution for training with a partner.

In 2016, I moved my family to what would be our final transfer. Given that I’m located in a major centre (for Saskatchewan) and the availability of several martial arts schools, I felt maybe it was time to dip my toes in the pond once again. I visited and trained with a couple of different dojos before landing on the one I’ve been training with for the past several years. And there are some processes, good and bad, that I’ve noticed throughout the years. I call them “processes,” because I honestly don’t know how else to refer to them or how to say it politely. But here are some examples…

My style usually wears a plain, white gi with no crests of patches. Some schools like to turn their uniform into a veritable billboard for their students’ skills, including adding patches along the arms or legs for different weapons or skills they’re proficient in. Some schools title and address their head instructor differently, depending on style, background and root language. As a visiting student, some schools may not welcome you or want you there; preferring to keep “outsiders” away from their students so as not to muddy the waters.

Some schools may have a specific protocol regarding visiting belts from another style. For example, my current dojo always has its students turn and bow to me in respect of being a “visiting black belt.” Not sure when that will go away, considering I’ve been going to that school for over seven years, but it’s nice nonetheless. Some schools may be fine with a student wearing their rank from a previous dojo, while some may insist you start from scratch. The latter can be a shot in the pills to someone who’s trained for decades but if one truly wants to learn a new style, this may be the route you have to take.

The important thing to remember is that different doesn’t mean bad. If you walk into a different school with the attitude that their methods are wrong, you’ll have no room in your spirit for learning and you likely shouldn’t stick around. be open to different experiences and methods of training. And most importantly, be open and ask. Wanna know how you should do a particular thing or whether you should wear your home dojo’s gi? Ask the question. And be transparent. For a number of years, I tried to keep my rank as black belt to myself when visiting a new dojo. It’s amazing how it changes a prospective instructor’s perception of you. But honesty and openness is always the best route. Especially if you plan on training with them for any length of time.

Training in a different school can present some fun and interesting challenges, especially if you choose a school that will help increase your overall martial arts toolbox. Being open and willing to learn something different, albeit without compromising your own style, and being sure to ask and get clarification so you can be respectful and mindful while training in someone else’s dojo, are integral steps to good cooperation. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll find a dojo who will be curious enough to ask about your techniques, as well. Food for thought…☯️

Form vs. Force

There’s a significant division in martial arts circles surrounding the purpose and value of form or kata in martial arts training. People usually fall in one of two main camps; those who think kata is useful and those who do not. Reasonably speaking and for the most part, both sides have the ability to present cogent arguments to back up their position but the problem is that said position is often the result of subjectivity as a result of one’s specific style lacking forms or kata. Every style of Okinawan karate I’ve ever observed has had form, mine included.

From my perspective (because it’s the only one I can share), kata serves a number of purposes that I would argue is integral to proper martial arts training. For starters, it’s no secret that muscle memory plays a HUGE role in properly learning techniques. Kata allows a practitioner the opportunity to learn techniques in a timed, structured manner. Further, it allows you to practice in such a way that your footing, posture and placement are developed before trying to exert it at full force against an actual target or opponent. Balance and strength are also developed.

That last piece is the one that often divides discussion groups when it comes to form. Some seem to believe that there can be no strength or force exerted in a kata. I would argue that not only is this inaccurate but it certainly takes away from the purpose of the kata. In my style, Sensei would always have us train for each kata at three different speeds. The first speed would be a bit slower, with focus on stance and proper technique with minimal force behind the strikes. Second speed would involve moving a bit faster and third speed would essentially be full strength and speed, akin to a bunkai or kumite.

Such is the balance and symmetry of karate, that what is soft is also hard and vice versa. The same can be said in the dojo environment when training with others, which is the point of today’s post and something that irks me to no end. For the most part, learning a new technique and training with a partner involves a mutual respect and a lot of time and repetition. If I showed you a new kick and told you to go practice it at full strength against. One of your dojo-mates, not only would you likely fuck it up and learn it improperly but injury would likely ensue.

The flip side to that reality is that eventually, you’re gonna need to include the strength. One cannot effectively learn a technique, or KARATE for that matter, by always going slow and soft. While it may be great to say things like “it’s not a race” and “ the important part is to learn,” eventually it will become a moot point if you don’t develop the strength and speed aspects of those same techniques. Otherwise, light help you if you ever have to use one of those techniques to defend yourself or someone else. While learning the form of any given technique is key and necessary, the natural progression to one’s training HAS to include pushing the envelope.

Be leery of any dojo that not only shows little interest but actively discourages use of strength, sparring or other more intense styles of study. It’s important to eventually push yourself beyond form so that strength, speed and precision can become common place. Otherwise, you may as well go join a knitting circle. ☯️

Plan Ahead or Else…

Variety is the spice of life… Or so I’ve been told. Training in the martial arts is a puzzle with a million pieces that requires the practitioner to acquire a new piece every class. Otherwise, the full picture will never come to fruition. That being said, studying and teaching are two very different things. Even if you have an excellent teacher/instructor and train hard, manage to absorb all those teachings and become a stellar practitioner of your respective art, passing on those teachings is an entirely different bag. And it’s certainly not everyone’s cup of tea. I was often considered one of my Sensei’s most promising students. That probably sounds like I’m bragging and, well… I AM. But it’s also the truth. I lived, breathed and existed only for karate until I hit my thirties.

When I was in my mid-twenties, we opened a second dojo and Sensei asked me to lead it. I excitedly accepted, looking forward to passing on everything I had learned to the next generation of karateka. Sounds ambitious, right? I lasted six months. Although I definitely have the ability to impart knowledge and teach karate to someone else, leading an entire class was definitely not MY cup of tea and I found myself leaning on Sensei to lead classes more than I did. It taught me an important lesson about the humility required to accept what niches one can operate within. And one important detail I learned, is that you need to preplan your classes and have at least some mild semblance of what you’re going to teach on a given night.

Just winging it once the class opens up is not an option. Although being fluid and adaptable is an important part of karate, you should have at least some passing idea of what concept you intend to cover on a given night. Maybe you want to focus on kicks. Maybe it’ll be blocks or you’ll do stations to build some cardio and break a sweat. In any event, starting a class and waiting to see “where the evening will take you” is not an ideal way to impart knowledge on a student. This is why you need to at least come up with some modicum of an idea on what you’ll cover. This is also extremely important in order to keep students engaged and allow them to progress. Although I’ll be the first to admit that the belt is not important, it’s the learning, that learning does need to take place.

Variety is also incredibly important. Especially in today’s world of “right here right now,” doing the same routine over and over again, every night and in every class, can lead to negative results and the loss of practitioners. Eventually, the students will move on. And then, who will carry on the teachings? Everything, from your warm up to your core teachings to how you close out the class or allow students to train and practice on their own will ultimately show the results of what direction your dojo will take and what future it maintains. And last but not least, know what YOU want. If you don’t want to be teaching, then don’t. There’s nothing worse than an instructor who’s doing it because they think they have to. This leads to phoning it in and your students will ultimately pay the price. Food for thought… ☯️

One Love, One Life, One Style…

Some decades ago, I remember Sensei telling me a story about how he had trained with a master in Japan, whom I unfortunately no longer remember his name, who would always say “one love, one life and one style…” The premise was pretty simple; in this one life we have, we should only have one true, genuine love. I was lucky enough to find this person in my lovely wife. But the focus of today’s post is about the last piece. That being, one style.

The beautiful thing about karate and martial arts in general, is that it’s a puzzle with a million pieces and so long as one is genuinely training to learn the art, they will never reach the end. For some, this may be a bit of a morose statement but to a true student of the martial way, feeling as though you have nothing left to learn can be far, far worse. So it rather plays on the aspect that no matter how skilled, knowledgeable or advanced your become, there will always be someone better.

All that being said and as I’ve often said before, martial arts is a very subjective thing. A style that suits one person may not be a good fit for someone else. Once you find a style that fits your needs, comfort and lifestyle, it should generally be the one you cling to for life. Switching styles does happen, but there are usually underlying reasons for this and should typically be avoided. One cannot learn something only part way before moving on to the next. It’s important o stick with your style and continue to train to learn and advance as far as you can (and are willing to go).

Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean that one shouldn’t increase their overall toolbox by dabbling in other things. One of the best selling points about the martial arts is that it holds a vast menu that can be picked from, for the aspects one feels one may be lacking. For example, karate has always been a good fit for me because I’ve always felt that the ability to defend myself empty-handed was important. You know, considering most of us don’t go walking around with a weapon. That being said, I’ve also taken to training with some weapons in order to bridge that gap.

This is similar to how an empty-handed fighter may choose to learn some grappling or throwing, or how a boxer or fist fighter may want to learn some kicks. Adding to one’s repertoire is never a bad thing but the basic lesson is that the student will always stick to, and come back to, their home style. Such has been the same for me. Although I’ve had the privilege and the honour to train with a couple of different styles since moving out to Saskatchewan, I’ve stayed true to my roots and always trained in Uechi Ryu. And I don’t really foresee that changing.

So, what happens when a student walks away from their dojo completely? And worse still, takes the skills and lessons you’ve taught them and brings them somewhere where they begin to teach them as a separate school? The history of karate is rife with such instances. One very notable example is a popular style of full contact karate named Kyokushinkai. This style‘s founder was originally a practitioner of Goju-Ryu karate and eventually splintered off to found his own style. Ironically, even THAT style would go on to help inspire and found many subsequent styles.

The question becomes, is it right to do so? And at what point do you face potentially watering down the style you’ve learned, simply to try and teach something of your own? For the most part, when a student wishes to open their own dojo or even teach or pass on what they’ve learned, dojo code of conduct would seem to dictate that they get their Sensei’s consent, first. Hell, I’ve never even trained in another dojo without first throwing a quick email to my Sensei, back in New Brunswick, to talk about and ask if he’s okay with it.

What becomes a bit sad is when a student decides to leave the dojo without their instructor’s consent and begins teaching others. Not only is this an incredible breach of etiquette and flies in the face of what martial arts is all about, it’s a bit hypocritical. After all, if there was something wrong enough with your dojo that you’ve decided to leave it, why would you take all those teachings and continue to pass them on? The other issue is that without the support of your home dojo to help, monitor and continue to provide correction, you never know what mistakes or technical errors you may inadvertently pass on to your newly-acquired students.

Be true to yourself but don’t forget to be true to your dojo. If there’s something that you feel is inherently wrong within your dojo, the idea would be ot take the opportunity to speak about it with your Sensei, not running off. And as much as some students may have a yearning to teach what they’ve learned, they shouldn’t do so without the consent and approval of their instructor. After all, thinking you’re ready doesn’t make it so. And dishonouring you or Sensei by opening a school and teaching without his consent waters down the purity of the martial arts, overall. Such as it is. Food for thought… ☯️

One On One Can Be Twice The Learning Fun…

I remember how in the early years of training in the karate dojo, I would always be grateful for the ability to blend in to my background. Training and following along, I was comfortable following the status quo and learning in the class environment. I wasn’t a big fan of having the focus mainly on me. One might say I was a bit more shy back then than I am now. I don’t have a timid bone in my body, these days, so things are a bit different and those also affects how I learn and train.

I’ll always remember the first time I found myself training alone with Sensei. To be clear, when I say alone, I don’t mean one on one while the rest of the class is paired off, as well. No, what I mean is literally only Sensei and I in the dojo. Classes for us would usually run from 6:30 pm to 8:30 pm, with junior belts and younger kids leaving after the first hour. The older and more senior belts would almost always stay for the second hour, as the lessened number of students meant less of a watering down of Sensei’s attention.

On this one particular night, the few senior students who would have stayed that second hour were either absent or had to depart early for individual reasons, leaving me alone with Sensei. I was still a white belt and I remember experiencing a distinct feeling of apprehension as I stood at attention and Sensei waited for the remaining students to clear out. Once we were alone, he began to continue to instruct, but to me and me alone. The positive is that I was still getting my time out of the class. At the time, the negative was that his focus was solely on me as the only student present, which meant that each and every little thing I did got picked apart and corrected.

I was incredibly grateful when the clock finally struck 8:30 pm as it would mean the spotlight would be off. But it wasn’t in Sensei’s nature to follow the clock. Karate knows no time limit, he would often say. I enjoyed the benefit of his direct tutelage for another fifteen minutes beyond the scheduled end of the class. I left the dojo that night feeling a sense of accomplishment. Many of my forms and techniques had been directly evaluated, corrected and commented by my Sensei; something I hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing before.

As the years passed and I gained time, experience and what I like to think of as a touch of wisdom, I came to value and appreciate the nights when Sensei and I would be alone together to train. I also came to recognize that many students often feel that they don’t get such direct exposure to their instructors in mainstream schools, which leads many students to feel as though they’re neglected or ignored. I never had such feelings, considering I was the type of kid who preferred to be in the background. But there’s definitely something to be said for getting some one-on-one coaching from an instructor.

I was reminded of this experience last night. I finally returned to Kempo, after being absent for almost two years. Following the rib break and crushed muscles from early 2022 in another dojo, I made the conscious choice to step away from group training to allow myself to heal completely and continue to train on my own, at my own pace. This process took longer than I had anticipated and as I often say, life rarely cares about one’s plans. It wasn’t until I received an email from the dojo asking the entire mailing list if they still wanted to receive the emails that I realized classes had been reopened from the pandemic.

As my first class back, I anticipated seeing some old faces and training with several people. I was significantly disappointed to see that some long-time students and people I had gotten to know were no longer attending the dojo. But that isn’t my story to tell. Ultimately, given the night and the circumstances, it was just me and the instructor. I once again found myself in a situation where it would be one-on-one training. This was a two-fold situation. Ion the one hand, I was older and experienced enough that training solo with someone else no longer causes concern. On the other side, despite several years of training at their school, I still don’t have the familiarity with Kempo that would make me comfortable in training in any of their specifics.

On this particular evening, the instructor and I agreed to keep things informal. As opposed to opening a formal class, we simply bowed to each other and got into some training. We spent two solid hours training with kali sticks. This was an exciting prospect, since my loving wife (looking at you, baba!) bought me a set of phenolic kali sticks from Budo Brothers. What are phenolic kali sticks, you may ask? Speaking in generalities, phenolic materials are usually comprised of thermosetting resin or compounds. The result is a lighter but harder stick, making them last longer and be more effective in the training environment.

I got to use my new Kali sticks for the first time last night and I have to say, they held up phenomenally. Putting in a couple of solid hours doing Kali work was the perfect way to shake off the cobwebs and get back into the martial arts groove. It made for fantastic evening. I’m going to take the opportunity to do an unofficial product plug and mention that if you want to check out the Kali sticks I bought, they can be found on Budo Brother’s website here.

Don’t knock the opportunity to train with an instructor one-on-one. Although it can sometimes seem intimidating and even a bit daunting, considering they usually have the skills and rank that many aspire to, they’re there to train just like you are. And the amount you can learn in those rare sessions can go a long way towards helping the progress of your martial arts journey. Last but not least and speaking as a previous instructor as well, the amount we learn from the student during those sessions is just as valuable and important. Martial arts training is a two-way street. Food for thought…☯️

The Second Family…

Most karate practitioners have been there and I spent decades experiencing the same routine… Your dojo doors open up and you show up for class about thirty minutes before start of class. There’s some friendly “how are you’s” and hellos exchanged while stretching. Maybe you engage in a form or two and do a bit of light shadow sparring. Sensei is always the first one there and always makes a point of asking you how your weekend was or, if you’re on the last class of the week, will ask you what plans you may have for the weekend to come.

Sound familiar? It should. This is the sort of social nicety that one can expect when entering a dojo and before starting class. Setting aside for the moment that not all dojos have the whole “get here half an hour before” mindset, you can usually expect that people who train together will bond together. Relationships and connections will develop, which will lead into a more social connection beyond the immediate purpose for being in the dojo, which is training in karate. This aspect is important, not only for you as a person but for you as a student, as well.

These connection make it easier and more comfortable to train in the dojo environment and allow for material to be absorbed and learned easily. If one is able to think back to the initial year one started in a dojo, there was awkwardness, silence and it felt as though one’s skills weren’t progressing. Some of that could likely be attributed to the fact that those interpersonal connections and relationships hadn’t been solidified yet, which led to less questions being asked, less people being approached for coaching and less overall learning.

Some may comment that this isn’t entirely accurate and that it doesn’t really play a role but I’ve seen it firsthand. It’s very hard to learn if you train like an antisocial douche who sits in the corner and doesn’t connect with anybody. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ll learn NOTHING. But you certainly won’t learn at the level you should with the quality of teaching that a dedicated student deserves. The worst is when the teachers and instructors do their best to reach out but the student STILL wants nothing to do with connecting to other fellow karateka.

All that being said, my point is that training in karate has so much more to offer than just being in the dojo. It’s the semi-permanent connections made with the practitioners. For example, you can tell a lot about the dynamic of a dojo by what happens AFTER the class. For the most part and from what I’ve seen of many dojos I’ve trained in, the class closes, people change and get the hell out of dodge. I even trained at one dojo that boasted shower facilities on site but I’ve never seen anyone use them. Considering the key holders are usually standing there waiting like vultures for everyone to get into street clothes and leave, that’s not surprising.

In my home dojo, it usually took at least half an hour for everyone to leave. This is because once class closed, you’d have students helping each other with technique, or people would start chatting and conversing, almost to the point of hanging out. Hell, my home dojo had a standing tradition that on the last Wednesday of every month, senior students would get together to grab a beer after class. Stories and laughs would be shared and even if we were all karate practitioners, most of the conversations would be unrelated to karate. Imagine that? Even now, when I travel home for any reason, I make a point to have social visits with Sensei and others I’ve trained with. These are relationships and bonds that last a lifetime and can never be undone.

Am I saying this phenomenon is necessary to train in karate? Absolutely not. Considering I’ve been effectively training for over ten years by myself, by virtue of there being no schools of Uechi-Ryu in Saskatchewan, I think I’m living proof of that. What I’m saying is that it makes it BETTER. It makes it more fun and more motivating. Like it or not, human beings are pack creatures and we are drawn to others of our kind. To develop those bonds is to provide an undeniable benefit to one’s training and ultimately, to one’s overall personal development. Food for thought… ☯️

Dojo Code Of Conduct


I wrote this post all the way back in December of 2019 and reposted it for the last time, almost two years ago. Although I try to avoid just recycling posts I’ve already written, this post outlines the proper guidelines a prospective student should follow when attending ANY martial arts school. Some of these are simply a matter of tradition, some of them are necessary to ensure that a dojo runs smoothly. Some, mostly all of them, are also a show of respect for the school you’ve chosen to attend. I think we can all agree that even if you’ve studied in a different style or have a different set of core beliefs, you should still show respect when inside someone else’s dojo. ESPECIALLY if your goal is to have it become your dojo, as well.

One of the big points I make when listing these things, is if your core beliefs don’t align with the school you’re visiting, you likely shouldn’t be joining. Not all styles are created equal and not all schools will suit every student. Martial arts is a very subjective journey and the first step should always be to find the school that works for you. But I digress… Given that my significantly delayed but anticipated return to the dojo is forthcoming, I’ve decided to repost this list as a reminder.

I’ve had the opportunity to observe some students, visitors and outsiders in many dojos. Taking into consideration some of the things I’ve observed, these are some of the basic principles of conduct when training within the dojo. This is never an exhaustive list and is often subjective to what’s been seen in the dojo but it’s all good stuff. Here we go:

  1. Bow when entering or exiting the dojo: This seems like a bit of a tiny detail, but it is an important one. It provides a show of respect; respect towards the instructors, respect towards the ones who trained before you, and respect towards the school. It also evokes a sense of discipline. Even though you may not realize it now, that tiny detail begins to lay the foundational discipline that should become the cornerstone of your training;
  2. Ensure your Gi, or karate uniform, is clean and pressed: This one is important not only for protocol and etiquette, but for hygiene reasons as well. And you would be surprised how many people overlook it. There’s nothing worse than someone who assumes that their last workout wasn’t intense enough to warrant laundering their uniform. Make sure it’s clean. Not only does that ensure a more “pleasant” environment for yourself and the other students, it shows proper respect for the uniform you wear on your journey. Keep an eye on the condition of your uniform. If it’s become yellowed and stained, regardless of washing, it’s time to replace it. If there are tears and/or holes, have them repaired (unless they’re unsightly even once fixed). You shouldn’t have to iron your gi but if you do, for the love of ALL that’s good and holy, don’t iron a crease down the center of your pants. Your going to karate class, not a business meeting;
  3. Stand straight and pay attention: When not executing a movement in the immediate moment, it is imperative that you stand straight and tall, heels together and thumbs tucked into the front of your belt. Keep your gaze towards the front and pay close attention to what the head instructor is saying. Try to avoid looking around and fidgeting. A big part of discipline is being able to focus long enough to build an attention span beyond that of a goldfish and if you fidget and waste your time, you may miss an integral piece of information you needed for what you’re working on;
  4. Acknowledge every instruction given: Different styles will have different ways of doing this. Some will choose a shallow bow when the head instructor provides instruction, some will answer in the affirmative by saying Hai (Japanese for “yes”) or something of the like… The method of acknowledgment will depend on the style and school you’re in. But once it’s clear that the instructor has completed providing instruction, this small acknowledgment is not only a sign of respect but provides the instructor with some cursory way of knowing that you’ve understood what’s been said;
  5. No food or drink within the dojo: You would think this one would be common sense, but a martial arts school is no place for you to sip your mocha-choca latte while your kid trains. Since the average martial arts class only lasts about an hour and a half to two hours, you can manage this easily without having food and drink within the confines of a training environment. In recent years, I’ve noticed that it’s become a bit more of a common thing for the practitioners to carry water bottles into the dojo and take water breaks throughout training. I’m pretty divided on this, considering Sensei always use to tell us to use the washroom and grab our drink BEFORE class started, because once you bowed in, you were in until you bowed out. But from a health perspective, I understand better than most that proper hydration is important. That being said, my current classes are only an hour in length and the average person should be able to make it through that short period without necessarily sucking back on a bottle;
  6. Get out of the way: If you become injured or over-tired, bow, step back and sit in seiza (on your knees) at the rear of the class. Stay out of the way and remove yourself from the flow of the class until your fatigue passes or your injury allows you to continue. Of course, if your injury is severe or serious enough to think you need to remove yourself, you likely shouldn’t continue as you could aggravate the injury further. The point is, there’s nothing to be served by standing in the way while others continue and you shouldn’t expect that everyone will stop and wait. After all, this is their time, too;
  7. Don’t show up late: This one is and always has been, a personal pet peeve of mine. Some instructors will say that if you show up late, it’s better to get “some of the workout” in rather than none at all. Although that is a great concept, showing up late can be disruptive to a class and shows great disrespect to your class and instructors. We all have busy lives. It falls to you to plan ahead and schedule things so that you may attend class. Whether or not showing up late is appropriate will be up to your head instructor, but true respect dictates that if you aren’t fifteen minutes early for class, you’re already late. A good example is a recent evening where I had to fight off a bout of low blood sugar and didn’t make it to class. I’m sure that if I really pushed it and fought my way down there, I would have been able to make it only a short period after start of class. But such disrespect for the flow of a dojo’s operations shouldn’t be encouraged;
  8. Don’t waste your instructor’s time: Although you’ve likely paid a fee for your presence, the instructor(s) within the school are there to impart their knowledge and skills to you and others. If you aren’t going to put in your full effort, then you’re wasting your instructors time. Effectively, you’re also wasting your time AND the fee you paid. You’re also affecting the other student’s ability to learn properly. Karate isn’t something you can walk into a few 1-hour classes and expect to progress. You need to put in some supplementary time training outside the dojo, on your own. This is the only way you’ll truly progress and make any headway. Otherwise, you may as well join a knitting circle;
  9. Respect and train based on your partner: You will sometimes be paired with someone of lower or higher rank than yourself. If you’re paired with someone of lower rank, you become the example of what is to be taught. If you inflict injury upon your partner, you may discourage them from further learning and you will have gained nothing yourself. If training with someone of higher rank, respect should be given and you should take every advantage to learn from this person as they are in the same position you would be if training with a lower ranked belt. Granted, time has proven that there is just as much you can learn from a lower rank. It depends on how positive your perspective may be; and
  10. Don’t be afraid to share some personal information: This is a new one that I haven’t included in the previous iterations of this post but I feel it’s significantly important, especially since it also plays in to some of the previous points about food and drink and disrupting the dojo. I’ve always made a point of sharing the fact I have Type-1 Diabetes with all of my instructors and students. We live in a world of wanting privacy but such a step is important, not only for my health and well-being but because there may be occasions where I’ll need to excuse myself to eat some fast-acting carbs or rest for a few moments. Beyond the respect component, such steps can be necessary to ensure I don’t pass out on the dojo floor. Be sure to discuss such things with your head instructor so that there are no misunderstandings.

I’ve seen everything from kids running around, coffee, students fidgeting and looking around… In a school I trained in, there was even one guy who showed up forty minutes late for class with a bag of cheeseburgers and ate while the rest of us did calisthenics! Besides the fact that the smell of burgers was killing me, a karate dojo is definitely NOT the place to eating, much less junk food. Even though some of these points could be viewed simply as one’s person’s opinion, it stands to reason that tradition and respect are things that should never be ignored in the dojo.

Folks, no matter what sport or art you study, there will always be guidelines to follow. The martial arts simply have more, and that’s part of the charm. Although the above guidelines are only basic, they apply to any martial arts school you attend. Your specific dojo may have more, and this is one of those moments where it’s important to take the initiative and ask. After all, respect is a primary aspect of karate and all martial arts. Food for thought… ☯

Have A Little Style While Showcasing Your Style…

One of the biggest issues and trends I’ve noticed in recent years, especially online, is when martial artists take a position or basically bash or call out other styles. Although I can fully admit to not endorsing certain schools of thought or how certain techniques are done by others, I’ve always maintained a respect for how other styles may do something that is different than my own way. Respect is a very large piece of the martial arts puzzle and should be considered when commenting on someone else’s style.

The thing is, and I’ll likely take shit from some commenters on this, is that no style is perfect. I’ve had the benefit of training with a number of different schools and styles and can honestly say that I’ve seen many different ways of performing the same technique. Some good, some bad. The problem is that this is a matter of perspective. What I assume is a poor technique may be quite an effective one for practitioners of a particular style. Since I don’t have the advantage of having trained extensively in this style, I may not have the vision or perspective to recognize this.

For example, I would never attempt or use the multiple high kicks employed with certain styles. The concept of balancing on one leg for any length of time in an actual fight seems ludicrous, at best. But for someone who’s drilled and built muscle memory using those techniques, using them may be efficient and precise. The same kick or punch performed by two different practitioners will only be as effective as the practitioner’s skill level, experience and effort, regardless of the style.

One of the most notable examples I can think of is when I trained for a period of time with a karate dojo that used long, striding steps to reach and attack their opponent. On my side of the table, this seems incredibly ineffective. After all, why would I stretch myself out and actively try to walk towards an enemy who is out of arm’s length? If I can’t reach them, then they can’t reach me, right? Fight’s over! Uechi Ryu has always focused on strikes when the opponent is within reach, to ensure contact. Oh sure, we step and slide the same as any karateka but some styles will practically cross half a room in doing so. Does this mean my style is better? No. It just means it’s different and one can potentially be as effective as the other. It’s all in the eye of the practitioner.

A lot of people are often reminded of the old classic Kung Fu movies where you’d get two students from competing schools, yelling that one’s Kung Fu style is stronger. Strength is found in the practitioner, not the style. And with that strength needs to come with the respect not to constantly judge a technique or assume it “won’t work in real life.” I swear to the light, if I go the rest of my life without someone saying that to me, it’ll be too soon. But I digress… Take the time to appreciate the technique. The discipline. The effort. And never forget that if something is done in form or drills, it likely serves a deeper purpose than in actual practice. Honour and respect your fellow martial artists. Food for thought…☯️