The first two martial arts schools I attended were relatively large studios in a commercial space. I used this ancient thing called, "The Yellow Pages," saw an ad and showed up to inquire about taking classes. Easy day. But when we were stationed in Clovis, New Mexico and I saw an ad for a small karate dojo, I was surprised to read, "Appointments Only." I had to call and set up a time to meet the head teacher one-on-one. In Japan, I had to have a sponsor introduce me to the head instructor before I could even step on the mat. You see, that's typically the way martial arts training started; you had to meet the teacher and be "accepted" into the dojo. That doesn't really bode well with trying to get as many people on the mat as possible. I think a lot of people view it as an annoyance, but that is my policy. We need to talk first before you come to my home and train in my dojo. Yes, this is how I make a living, but I refuse to allow walk-ins, as though we are an aerobics class.
I vividly remember one night during Aikido training at the Misawa Dojo, an American serviceman stepped onto the mat wearing a hakama (traditional pants worn in some martial arts) that were too short. He came without an introduction and just lined up with us at the beginning of class. Matsumoto-san, the quite and unassuming head teacher, didn't say a word. We did a lot of ukemi (rolling practice) that night, more than usual and the newcomer was unable to keep up. His technique was choppy and well, just not very clean...not for someone who supposedly achieved udansha (black belt). At the end of class, Matsumoto told me to have a talk with the guy and let him know the etiquette: One, you need to have a sponsor or set up a time to introduce yourself. Two, you will not wear a blackbelt or hakama until it is determined where you trained, who gave you your black belt, etc. Three...your hakama is too short. The dude was not happy, complained he had never been treated that way, etc. My response was a little curt: "This is Japan, not the U.S. What did you expect?" He didn't come back.
Pride in martial arts, in life really, can be a detriment to an individual's development, relationships and sense of self. That's because individual pride is often mistaken for confidence. The more important you think you are, the less important others are around you. Pride, aka ego, is one of the first things that students new to martial arts culture have to contend with...in a real dojo, anyway. Dojo means, "way place," a place specifically designated for individuals seeking the path of enlightenment -- ultimately a person's understanding of self and the world around them. "What is the meaning of life?" "Why am I here?" "How do I deal with struggle?" "How should I treat other people?" Of course, any of these questions can be addressed through faith, especially if one gives serious examination and study of the Bible. But regardless of your belief, there is no major religion on the face of the earth, Christianity, Buddhism, Shintoism, etc, that dictates pride in one's self. In fact, the opposite is true: pride is the enemy.
This is one of the main reasons I ask that all of our students wear a plain, white uniform. Brown and black belts have the option to wear a black uniform, a symbol - - not a reward - - of their hard work and dedication. It would be a heck of a lot easier to have people wear t-shirts and I know a lot of folks would be more comfortable with that, at least in the beginning. A uniform is thick, bulky and incredibly uncomfortable in the summer and really cold in the winter once moist air mingles with that sweat on your back. No patches, no letters, not even your name on that uniform. Want to know some of my favorite patches these days? "Black Belt Club." "Head Instructor." "Weapons Instructor." "Top Student." "Demo Team." And let's not forget the patches with tigers, dragons and mythical creatures. There are some schools out there whose students look more like Nascar drivers than martial artists.
But uniforms are only a small part of the process of dismantling self pride. A real martial arts dojo will teach very plain, ordinary and simplistic techniques and drill those techniques over and over, ad nauseam until people who don't belong there get bored and leave. I'm all about it. It's not smart business, it doesn't excite people and it's certainly not great for retention. Nobody likes to do the same drills every class...they pay for more than that, right? It's a very Eastern martial philosophy in a very Western world. When I studied in Japan, I could count on every class being pretty much the same; same techniques, same drills, etc. Every once in while, sensei would change things up a little, but we hardly ever deviated from the boring, repetitive and ego-depleting curriculum. Lot's of people came; few stayed. And because I employ the same type of structure in all of our classes, I see the same type of revolving door in my dojo. It looks easy, but it's actually really hard and monotonous and our fragile egos can't handle that. So, we seek something that gives us immediate joy and...pride.
Many of us have developed a distorted sense of self worth. Personally, I think it all started with Dr. Spock, a famous pediatrician who wrote several books in the 50s and 60s, telling parents to be more permissive and congratulatory towards their children. Want to know the worst thing you can tell a child? "You're special." Forgive me...that's bullshit. Start telling a child how special and unique they are and pretty soon you'll have a kid who has no true sense of self because they haven't done anything to earn or develop it. I never told my kids they were special. I told them that they had to do things to earn respect and if they failed, there were consequences. I encouraged them to work hard and play hard and provided plenty of opportunities to fail so that they would learn how to deal with failure and start over. They got my respect when they earned it. See the difference? Pride in someone else is a good thing; pride in ourselves means we stop growing.
One of the many aspects of martial arts training that I think is vital to a healthy dojo is the obligation...and I do mean obligation, to clean mats after class. It's just as important to one's training and development as learning how to kick, punch, throw, spar, etc. Think about it; in order to clean the mats, you have to get a wet rag, get on your knees and scrub. You have to lower yourself, humble yourself. Would you believe I've had people in the past tell me that cleaning the mat is beneath them? Truth. Why would someone say that? Because they have become so important in their own mind that they cannot bear the thought of that type of humiliation. "I've worked to hard to get here." "I'm unique." "I'm special and you need to respect me." Ah...no, we don't. Do something worth my respect and you'll have it. Show up as consistently as your life allows, train hard, don't whine, be a good training partner, encourage others...don't give up. And for crying out loud, clean the mat like everybody else. You're not special.
All a very unpopular opinion these days, I know. And you know, maybe this place isn't going to last long, and that's ok. I refuse to get on board with so many others out there telling me what I need to do for the "successful martial arts school." The Gospel According To Wealth tells us to be inclusive, permissive, and supportive. Well...no, I'm not going to that. What I will do, is continue to provide a place and opportunity for anybody regardless of age or background, to find strength and confidence through hard work, sweat and humility. A place where no one is ever really happy with their progress...you know, proud of themselves. It's just not what this place is all about. And if we can't obtain or maintain students, that's ok. The people who stay and have been here a while get it. They are the ones you see cleaning the mat.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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