Karate: I Still Can’t Defend Myself
Occasionally someone makes a comment that really sticks with you. Sometimes in a good way and other times in a negative way. For example, just recently a friend of mine had someone reach out to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about in a book that he had just written.
My buddy Steve has recently published a book called “My Child is An Addict.” Steve wrote it after enduring years of living with a son who was addicted, and who eventually lost his life due to the same. Feeling helpless, Steve decided to pen his own story while offering his insights into navigating life with a child who is living on the edge – in a society where there is little real help available for those who fall victim to the alure of a life of substances abuse.
In short, the lady who told Steve he didn’t know what he was writing about is not only wrong but is also part of a wall that people come up against when they try to do something meaningful and worthwhile.
My point is that naysayers are everywhere and often come from their own place of unawareness or convolution.
On the other hand, sometimes people pass a comment that not only makes us think, but also reevaluate our position on a topic or opinion.
Take this comment from a friend of mine:
“After doing Karate for five years I found I was in no better shape, and in no better position to defend myself than when I first started.”
In this case, I’m not so eager to say he’s wrong.
I’ve been at this Karate business for over thirty years, and I’ve seen some things. I’ve seen black belts who flinch when they try to land a hard punch on a heavy bag; I’ve seen classes who do nothing but basics up and down the floor of the dojo; I’ve seen dojos who do Kata and Kihon and zero Kumite; and I’ve seen styles that do Kata and never look at Bunkai or Oyo.
In any of these cases, the students have signed up to learn Karate – not to fight.
There is a very long way between Kihon or even Kumite in class and a street attack. Kata and Kihon are merely filled with fighting principles:
“a fundamental truth or proposition that serves as the foundation for a system of belief or behavior.”
A karate class that is teaching you to fight will have you refine and nearly perfect movements in Kata and Kihon and then encourage you to use them against an attacker who isn’t using Karate. It will also encourage you to break out of the one-two-stop rut that we get in and keep delivering attacks until the opponent is subdued or laying on the ground. A real fight is continuous….and dirty.
I’ve been around long enough to know that if I am assailed on the street, my block-attack won’t save my ass, but an aggressive flurry of well timed and accurate attacks with my hands, feet, knees, and elbows might.
Further to this thought, is there a danger in having students think that a certain color belt in Karate translates to being able to easily defend oneself in a real, violent encounter?
In every single class with Hanshi Don Owens or with Sensei Power the phrases ‘in a fight’ or ‘if you get attached’ or ‘and attacker on the street’ will be heard. They remind us that Karate needs to be applied practically as part of our training.
I’m currently working through the administrative part of opening my own dojo and one thing is for certain: I will not teach Karate in isolation from reality. It won’t be a fitness class, but it will be practical. My thinking is that if an assailant tries to snatch a Karate student off the street into the backseat of a car, they should have a hell of a difficult time doing it.
Yes, my students will know the Dojo Kun, and they will practice mindfulness, respectfulness, and humility in the Dojo, but my hope is that they will be confident if ever they have their backs to the wall.
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