Gyaku means reversal or counter. It can refer to the position of a hand, a reversal of fortune, or reversing positions. What I am thinking about today is the reversing of positions which is so critical in successful newaza.
As you know – being able to move from bottom position to top position is key in both self defense and sport versions of jujitsu. In sport you will gain points and position for submission. In self defense you will position yourself for an a counter attack or an escape. All good – but easier said than done.
But there is one aspect of gyaku that will help you be successful in a sweep or turnover – and that is the angle of the technique.
It is extremely important to isolate the opponents arm in a way that stops him from being able to use that arm as a post or base to stop the reversal. It needs to be tucked in or under or across so that there is nothing supporting the upper quadrant of his body on the side you wish to execute the reversal.
Next – the opponents body needs to be tipped, on an angle toward the shoulder in order to move around any resistance the opponent may give.
When executed correctly it can be done quickly or slowly. Executed correctly, there is little chance of escape. But it takes alot of practice.
Sometimes we get so caught up in “getting the move”, that we dont pay attention to exactly how a move is done. Over time we develop bad habits because we can “pull things off” on most people. Then comes along the really big guy or the really talented guy and things fall apart. Why? Because the mechanics are poor.
In order to execute a perfect gyaku you must isolate the supporting limb, tuck it in, under, or across – then tip the body of your opponent on an angle toward the tip of the shoulder of the arm you isolated. Then you can complete the reversal.
Think about this alot and practice slowly until you have mastered it.
Gyaku
January 31st, 2012The Development of Jujitsu
December 20th, 2011I have been thinking alot lately about how Jujitsu will continue to develop. When I look back over its history, it has come a long way. With its roots in early civilizations, spreading through the early warrior cultures of Egypt, Greece, India, China, Japan – one can see that the common thread is how one can defend themselves when unarmed against an attacker. Some early forms were tied to weapons systems also. As I look at its development I see how it reached a critical mass in Japan in the 1600′s. Although there were many styles (ryu), most contained a relatively similar set of techniques – afterall, there are only so many ways to manipulate the body.
Most of those ways needed to directly apply to the battlefield. Self defense was the world of the warrior. But in the areas of the world where peace took hold – there were warriors without war. As warriors know – peace never lasts – there will always be a new conflict. Being prepared, keeping a strong military – keeping your skills honed is important. So came the development of training halls. Places where bujutsu could be practiced and passed on from old warriors to new warriors. As is often the case in peacetime – warrior techniques were tested in competition. Competition itself devised variation on battlefield techniques – and so the art developed.
The Development of Jujitsu Part 2
December 9th, 2011As the Samurai began to disband, the government established training halls for the preservation of the old arts (such as the Budokuden). These were places where at first the jujitsu schools came together to prove who was the best, but later to share techniques.
From this era also came a Jujitsu practitioner named Jigoro Kano who brought his style of jujitsu into the education systems and sportive competition.
At this time there were several ryu who had techniques which differentiated them from other ryu – mainly ground defense techniques.
As the turn of the 20th century came, jujitsu spread to the western world both through Japanese emmigration, and westerners who travelled to the far east. Many of the world’s militaries began to use jujitsu techniques to develop their combatives programs.
In the mid 20th century, jujitsu was still relatively unknown, except for small dojos here and there. The sport of Judo was popular.
In the later 20th century a form of jujitsu that was developing in Brazil with its roots in old judo (Kano Ryu) began to spread to the US. It significantly challenged the jujitsu schools who did not have significant ground techniques.
Now in the early 21st century, there is cross training across styles, there are dvds and the internet. Jujitsu practitioners have available to them thousands of techniques and variations that they could not have been exposed to 50 years ago.
So where will Jujitsu go next? It is hard to tell – it is developing organically from within. As we do not currently live in a warring state, there are few secrets, and techniques are freely shared between practitioners. Competition in the art is very popular. Althoug similar to Judo competition, it allows many more techniques, longer bouts, different point values, and much more ground fighting. Sport and Self Defense are blending. An understanding that it may only take slight variation to make a sport technique a self defense technique and visa versa.
Schools that do not continue to adapt with the times will find themselves anacronistic more quickly these days than in the past.
I am excited to see what the future holds for all of Jujitsu. And we must remember to hold onto our lineage and our warrior society etiquette, but allow the art to morph and develop as needed – never losing sight of the fact that it is a self defense art.
An Interview with Shihan Jerry Kunzman – Part 2
March 5th, 2011How did you meet Duke Moore?
After I had been training at the Taraval St. dojo for several months with Sensei Rich Leviton, one night in 1960 or 1961 an “older” gentleman (40 something) came in to the dojo. Until then I had never met Hanshi Moore but it was apparent from the deference afforded to him by the more advanced students, that this was someone special. He suited up in a white gi and a well worn black belt. Although he was entitled to wore a red and white belt (he was 7th dan at the time), I don’t recall seeing him ever wear anything other than a simple black belt until sometime in the 70’s when he was a 9th dan and began wearing a solid red belt. (I left San Francisco in 1967 and started Budokai East in Danbury, CT so the details of his own progression in rank are unclear to me). He was a man about my size (roughly 5’-9”, 150 pounds), slightly balding, and wiry. He conducted class that night and I was impressed with his soft spoken sense of command and gentleness in demeanor. However, he honored me to be his Uke for several demonstrations and then I was even more impressed with his strength and speed. His techniques were strong and absolute. When he applied a joint lock, choke or throw, it was final! No need for Uke to sutemi or cooperate in any way…you knew you had been had! Yet, no student was ever harmed or injured by him in any way during his class. That was amazing to me because, as white belts (maybe I was a green belt at the time), we routinely injured each other in some way during our clumsy practice sessions.
At the end of that first class with Hanshi Moore (as described above), and much to my surprise, he asked me to train at the Market St. dojo (the Zen Budokai HQ) with him at least once a week. As far as I know, I was the only one he singled out for that honor. So at that point, I continued training with Sensei Leviton at the Taraval St. dojo twice a week and going to the Market St. dojo once a week to train with Hanshi Moore (and sometimes on a Saturday). Some weeks I attended classes at Market St. more often if something special was planned like a promotion night or a visiting dignitary was teaching. That is how and why I met, trained under, and was ranked by Richard “Biggi” Kim. (But that’s another story).
What was it like training under Duke Moore?
Training under Hanshi Moore was a trip! You never knew what to expect. Some nights we did all Ju Jitsu, some nights we did all Karate , some nights we did all Judo, and some nights we mixed it up. We had three separate but adjoining mat areas in that facility because his father had previously owned a window blind store there and somehow we had use of three adjoining store fronts with half walls between areas so he could monitor all areas at the same time. (He took great delight in telling us that his father was the “blind man”).It was not uncommon to have all three martial arts going at the same time occasionally. Most often however we used the three areas for different levels of rank to work on their own material (e.g. white belts on mat 1; brown belts on mat 2; and black belts on mat 3). For regular training, we worked off charts that were posted on the wall, just as we do today. Hanshi Moore had one annoying habit however. He was prone to change the charts! I remember as green belt, working on my material for months. One night I came in and found that my Goshin Jitsu green belt chart was different. When I complained to him, he said “Oh I got tired of that one”. When I foolishly whined that I wasted all that time learning the previous stuff, his reply was “Not at all, think about how much more you are learning”….and he was right!!
How did he conduct a class?
“Duke”, as he liked to be called, was very informal and casual. He was a modest, humble man and never flaunted his position or knowledge. In keeping with his desires, I will address him hereafter as “Duke”, without any intention of familiarity or disrespect.
Duke’s classes were likewise informal and casual although we did observe the traditional formal custom of an opening and closing bow to the Kamiza, bowing upon entering the dojo, and before getting on or off the mat. We also adhered to a respectful bow to partners or opponents before and after working with them. Duke also taught us the art and philosophy of Zen Mediation and most often, we also practiced Zazen (seated Zen meditation) at the end of most classes.
The Ju Jitsu classes themselves were conducted the same as we do now. After a formal opening, we started with warm up exercises, followed by Karate Basics, which was then followed by Ukemi practice. Then after we were exhausted, we got individual assignments. With a partner, we worked on the chart material consistent with our level, or Duke (or a higher belt) would teach material from a new chart. As we rose in rank, we were increasingly assigned to teach the lower belts, under his supervision of course. What I didn’t appreciate at the time was how important “student” teaching was to our future development. At the time, I just thought it was a way to cover more material in a given class. Over the years however, I have come to realize that it really enhances your own knowledge when you to have to explain and demonstrate something to someone else. It also prepares you to stand up in front of a group and talk on a subject, whatever that subject might be!
An Interview with Shihan Jerry Kunzman
February 26th, 2011Here is an interview with Prof. Jerry Kunzman – 9th Dan in Zenbudo-Ryu Jujitsu concerning how he started in Jujitsu.
1. What year did you begin training in Jujitsu?
It must have been in 1960 because I started a new job in 1959 and remember discussing it with my new co-workers a few months after I joined them. They thought I was crazy to get involved with “things like that”. In those years, the martial arts (Judo, Ju Jitsu, and Karate) were still “mystical” and usually Caucasians were not welcome in most dojos. And few Caucasians knew anything factual about “things like that”.
2. How did you first become aware of Jujitsu?
Serendipitously.
As I recall now, the word “Judo” was familiar because of the infamous “Judo Chop”, as it was called then in, movies and other media. I only had a vague concept of the others. I think I found a book at the library on Ju Jitsu, illustrated with pictures of Japanese men in suits and derby hats doing their “tricks”. That looked like fun and an effective form of self-defense.
At the time (1960), there was a lot of publicity in the media about the Hells Angels motorcycle gangs raising hell. Being a “smallish” person (5’-9” and 135 pounds), I realized that I would be easy fodder for them if I was so unfortunate to be in their area at the wrong time and I needed to do something about learning to defend myself better.
With those two things in the back of my mind, several months passed and I was driving down Taraval St. in San Francisco when I spied a sign outside a store front. The sign advertised “Judo, Ju JItsu, and Karate ”, a rare find in those days. I stopped and went inside to see what that was about, given my recent thoughts (above). It was a typical dojo as we commonly see these days. The instructor on the mat was Rich Leviton, a 16 year old black belt in both Ju Jitsu and Karate, who greeted me with a smile and was very courteous and respectful (after all, I was his senior at 23 J). He carefully and patiently explained the program to me and I think I signed up on the spot.
I eventually learned that this dojo was one of the 5 dojo’s that Hanshi Duke Moore had in t he San Francisco Bay Area and one of the few that were open to the general public. So by dumb luck, I stumbled into what is probably one of the finest, most versatile martial arts systems available anywhere in the area at the time!
3. What was your first week like at your Jujitsu Dojo?
I don’t remember the details but I do recall that I spent a lot of time “slapping the mat”. I just did as I was told. I could see where the training was headed by observing the other, more advanced students and I just trusted that the system would take me there.
4. What interested you most about Jujitsu? Was there an experience, person, or concept that really fascinated you and kept you coming back?
The power of the art was amazing to me. The ability to control and “defeat” much larger opponents with such ease fascinated me. Sensei Leviton was a good and kind instructor and (predictably) the other students mirrored his persona, so I made friends easily.
5. What were your first impressions of your instructor?
I was impressed with a 16 year old conducting classes in Ju Jitsu and Karate by himself. I instinctively felt that this was something unusual and I wanted to be a part of it.
6. As a new student, what were your biggest challenges?
There were two: Getting my white belt tied correctly and trying to not break anything! J
During my 50 years in the arts, I have sprained almost every joint in my body (some several times), survived multiple bruises and injuries but never missed a class. So I guess I met my two biggest challenges; I now can tie my belt correctly and I never broke anything (except for a cracked rib on two different occasions but that doesn’t count! J ).
7. If there is anything you could tell a new student to help him in his Jujitsu journey, what would that be?
I think the most important thing that a new student needs to understand and buy into is this: Do not look ahead; do not be ambitious; do not be concerned about the color of your belt! Take each step one at a time. The belt is there to hold your gi closed. The color of your belt is for the benefit of your instructor, not for your benefit.
As you advance, you will be assigned to teach those at lower ranks. While that may seem boring (after all, you already “know” that stuff and you want to learn new stuff), you learn even more by teaching (under the supervision of your Sensei of course). You are also being prepared to some day run your own classes.
Finally, NEVER miss a class. If you have to be brought in by wheelchair or stretcher, you will still learn by observing! Professor Jerry Kunzman – 9th Dan – Zenbudo-Ryu Jujitsu
Stay tuned for the continued story…….
Martial Arts Master
February 6th, 2011What does it mean to be a true Martial Arts Master? We often have visions of a small Japanese master who lives high on a misty mountain. Only he has the real secrets of self defense. He is a magical man, impervious to pain, and unbeatable in combat. Though frail he has the strength of 10 men. The words he tells you answer all of life’s questions. But that is the movies my friends! I have met many true martial arts masters, and am considered to be one by some. I can tell you – the movie version is fiction! There are no Martial Arts Masters! But there ARE Master Instructors.
It is unfortunate that most of our knowledge of the martial arts comes from martial arts movies. Works of fiction, that show us the story we want to be reality, but simply isnt. The truth about martial arts masters is that they are not magical men, who are impervious to pain and unbeatable in combat. They tend to be older gentlemen, who have aching joints, old injuries, scars, and will avoid combat or any type of violence if they have the choice. But that doesn’t really make for a good story. We don’t want martial arts masters to be just like us – or our grandfathers. We want them to have overcome aging, found the magic diet, able to stomp a 300 lb man with a lightning fast ridge hand to the groin. They never had to work, because with their monk like demeanor, and amazing combat skills, they gleaned riches from their days as wealthy samurai and then retired to a life in a bamboo cabin in the hills, eating what they grow, and living on the gifts of those students who make the trek to learn his secrets.
That is truly a shame – because we miss the actual importance to the martial arts of someone who has dedicated most of their lives to a combat art.
What we fail to embrace in our lack of understanding of martial arts mastery – is exactly what has been mastered – and how.
Let me first address the how. How does one become a martial arts master? Training. Endless, painful training. Week after week, month after month, year after year for decades. From this training comes the technical skills necessary to be a martial arts master. He had to march the same road as all students under the watchful eye of a sensei to learn the basic, intermediate, and advanced techniques of one or more systems of self defense. Once receiving the blackbelt (if the system uses that ranking), he must now spend years honing those skills. Practicing, fighting, contesting, training. After a decade or so, the curriculum that makes up his basic set of skills will have been mastered pretty well. But he is still not a master.
After a decade or so of training comes the “seasoning” period where the practitioner becomes aware of his place in the dojo and in the lineage of the dojo. He begins to understand the role and responsibility of first being a Sempai and then a Sensei. There will begin to come the understanding of how to impart knowledge to others. Up until this point there has been an inward focus – which now must be pointed outward. There was taking, where now there must be giving. There also comes an understanding of what it takes to run a class and perhaps a dojo. There are business aspects and safety aspects. One learns how to deal with the many types of personalities that come with new students and not so new students. All the while, this man must maintain control of his own life outside of the dojo. In this modern world we cannot recede into prior centuries – we live here and now. We have to deal with insurance and bills and jobs and family and automobiles and laws and permits and children. We have responsibilities to our physical genetic families and our martial arts families. On the way to mastery this sensei will need to learn to juggle all of those responsibilities. Sometimes he will and sometimes he wont.
As the greatest secret to mastery comes in the fact that the master is a simple human, like all around them, with the same successes and failures, with similar worries and concerns, with normal everyday responsibilities – he has to gladly sacrifice a huge amount of his private time to the teaching of students. While a martial arts practitioner may train a few times a week, go to the gym, enjoy family time, etc. The sensei devotes all of his spare time – and some not so spare to the dojo and the improvement of others. He spends most of his time giving and coaching and training others – and THAT is what makes his special. He is just like you and everyone else – except that besides his regular life – he gives his heart and soul to the dojo and the students. But this still does not make him a master.
So what makes one a martial arts master? Nothing! Nobody ever masters the martial arts. Nobody will ever be perfect and perform flawlessly all the time in every self defense circumstance. The reality is that it takes so long to truly become a technical master, that the physical body begins to lose its edge by the time the technical edge arrives.
Then why do people get ranked or called a master? Here is your answer. Because a master is ranked as a Master Instructor. Being a martial arts master means that you are a martial arts master instructor! You have the technical ability and the years of teaching experience to know how to pass on the knowledge to others. And this is no easy feat. Every student learns in a different way, has a different background, has different physical and mental skills and training needs. A true master can see the path that each student needs to take in order to succeed in the martial arts. The strong may need technical proficiency. The weak may need toughness. The young may need patience. The old may need motivation. The skilled may need coaching. The not so skilled may need reassurance. The true master knows the history of the system, the teachers of the past, the history of each technique. He know how the entire system fits together to bring students along the path. A master knows every technical nuance, even if he may not be able to perfectly execute every nuance himself every day. A master instructor feels the “on” or duty to those who have passed down the knowledge through the ages and knows he must not only pass on the knowledge, but improve upon it. A martial arts master’s goal is to ensure his students become better than him!
Being a martial arts Master (instructor) also means that other instructors come to you to learn. There are nuances in technique and teaching that they wish to glean and impart to their own students. They wish to use the master’s knowledge to improve themselves and their students.
The final secret to being a Martial Arts Master is knowing that you also have a martial arts master – living or dead – that you look to for your own training and motivation.
Finally – humility is key. Thinking you are a master makes you feel like you want to show and tell the world that you are one. BEING a martial arts master makes you feel like you are a worthless – unless you can make your students and other instructors be the best that they can be. You wouldn’t think of calling yourself a master, and feel somewhat embarrassed when others do. This is what it means to be a Martial Arts Master!
Also see this article at www.ezinearticles.com
Cult of Personality
October 19th, 2010
Many dojos and systems come and go over the years. A few stay a couple generations. Only a handful stand the test of time. One of the main reasons dojos or systems fail to stay intact over generations, is the same reason new companies, born from the brilliant ideas, and unending tenacity of the company’s founder fail when the company is passed down to a son, or corporate heir. The company, or dojo, or system was kept alive by a cult of personality.
A cult of personality is a group of people who follow the ideas, ideals, and methods of a leader with strong personality traits. Followers and students alike are motivated by the leader, tales of his or her exploits, their mental and/or physical fortitude. The way the person speaks and writes. How that leader’s personality affects them – personally.
There are many dojos and systems like this. Along comes a smart, sometimes brilliant practitioner or teacher. He or she has strong opinions, demands alot from students, maintains an atmosphere that attracts students and brings the best out in them. There is usually some level of mental, verbal and physical presence. The leader has answers to important questions, and the answers seem to make sense. When that person isnt leading class it just isnt quite the same. It may be good, but not the same.
Inevitably, when that leaders leaves the dojo, or dies, the successors struggle to maintain the same environment that existed. Most often a dojo or system will splinter into groups led by those closest to the original personality. Each one of them insisting they understood the “real” message of the prior leader. He showed them the real secrets, or passed on the real knowledge and philosophies. Even family members of the original personality, who may or may not have ever dealt with their family member in the dojo, come out of the woodwork to claim either they should have the control or sometimes, that nobody should have the control.
This scenario has played out thousands of times across the centuries from great philosophical leaders, to military leaders, political leaders, and other strong personalities who developed followings. Each time there were similar endings to the story. Who was closest to them. Who knew the real teachings. Blah Blah.
Occasionally however, usually through thoughtful planning, leaders understand how these cults of personality work, and do things to ensure that the important things are maintained without the specific need for an ultra-charismatic leader. Usually there is success and longevity for similar reasons – no matter the specific social area.
For a dojo or a system, some key areas that need to be contemplated are:
- Is the technical system valid and effective. Is it based on reality, and adaptable to changing realities?
- Is there an effective teaching methodology? Is there a way to transmit knowledge in an effective and repeatable fashion generation after generation?
- Are there core traditions that are important to keep in place and repeat? Do they serve a specific purpose that will remain important to students generation after generation?
- Do multiple senior level people know and understand these things deeply, and understand the importance of them so that they feel they do not need to reinvent them or come up with different methods?
- Is there an atmosphere that can be learned, taught, maintained generationally?
- Can a new strong personality emerge from the dojo with strong knowledge of the above named items, with some new and exciting takes on things, who can preserve what is important and motivate another generation to maintain the dojo or system?
These are important questions to know the answer to. Without some of these things in place, which are known and understood by senior members of a dojo or system, there is little hope for longevity of a dojo or system. More than likely, new strong personalities will emerge and reinvent the original idea, and start their own cult of personality….and the cycle starts again.
Tenacity
September 10th, 2010
If there is one thing I find guarantees a higher level of success at anything – it’s tenacity. Tenacity – that “stick with it”, “suck it up”, “make it happen”, “keep going” attitude that leads to success and even greatness. Tenacity is the one and only secret to success in Jujitsu.
I have told many students that the secret to success in Jujitsu is continuing to show up. But it is a little more than that. Showing up, and not giving it your all – over and over and over again – will not cut it. So I revise my statement to – Tenacity is the secret to success in Jujitsu.
Tenacity also implies a level of difficulty in continuing an endeavor. Nobody is considered tenacious because they sit on the couch and eat chips over and over and over. But someone who tackles climing a mountain range, or shows up at a Boot Camp training course at their gym over and over, or sticks with the martial arts for year after year – is considered tenacious.

Tenacity can also be shown in never giving up on something. A person finds a purpose, and then hammers away at it, week after week, month after month – refusing to give in to distractions or resistance until his or her will is imposed. I see that sometimes at the dojo where a senior student will take on a junior student as a “project”. The senior student sees the potential and is insistent that the junior will fulfill his potential. So week after week – class upon class, the senior student pushes, encourages, challenges, and develops the junior – knowing what that junior can become.
Of course, anyone who has attended a military specialty school like Airborne, or Air Assault, or Ranger, or BUDs, or Sniper knows what tenacity means. You will be challenged mentally and physically far beyond where your mind thinks it can go. And only those that keep on keepin’ on will make it through. We aren’t a military school – but we have many ex-military and police instructors and students – so sometimes portions of the class take on the feeling of a military school. Students and Instructors are pushed to their limits – whether it is a crazy long run through a rail yard, or up a huge hill, or an hour an a half of newaza, or carrying your partner fireman style for a loooonnnngg time, or even just ridiculously long ab workouts – you get pushed. Why? Well because we are looking for tenacity. Who is going to suck it up – who is going to go past their pre-conceived notions of what that can and cannot do. Why?

Because is a real life violent encounter you are often starting to defend yourself after being put down by a punch or a tackle. You may have to defend yourself or your loved one AFTER being stabbed or beaten. Because when it comes to life or death you cannot give up, give into the pain, not last, throw in the towel. You have no choice – you must survive.
When I see students give up on a physical challenge, chosing to fail rather than succeed I get very concerned because this translates directly into how they will react when confronted by a seeminly overwhelming violent attack. So we push, and motivate, and inspire, and train students and instructors to be tenacious.

If you need a mantra to help you do this – run this through your head over and over the next time you are facing or experiencing a challenge:
STICK WITH IT, NEVER GIVE IN, SUCK IT UP, and MAKE IT HAPPEN!
What DOES it take to earn your Blackbelt?
August 3rd, 2010
As a result of our recent Blackbelt Test – I got to thinking – What DOES it take to earn your blackbelt? Generations go by, and you have to wonder – what did it take in the past to earn your blackbelt? What do other schools require? Is there a standard? Why do some schools take 3 years? Why do some take 10 years? After trying to answer some of these questions, I realized the answer doesn’t really have anything to do with these questions. Each school, each country, each era, each system is going to have a different answer from their own viewpoint. So this is not where the answer lies. The answer lies in what the symbol we call a black belt represents in the martial arts.
Of course we know that a black belt is merely a colored piece of cloth – but it holds legendary symbolism. It instantly conjures up martial arts mastery in the minds of the uninitiated, while it brings back memories – however distorted – of those who have also achieved blackbelt. So the symbolism is heavy.
I – surprisingly enough – have my own opinions on what that symbolism is. When I think of the things I will speak of – it helps to remind me what I am looking for when deciding to award a black belt. These things really have nothing to do with a system, or a country, or an era or a school. I believe what is required transcends all of those things.
1. The closest consideration to anything on the list above may be technical knowledge. One criteria for a student to reach the blackbelt level is a certain amount of technical knowledge. Each school or system will require some quantity of technical knowledge to be demonstrated. This is important – and is usually for the same reason across all systems – to show that the student knows and can demonstrate most, if not all of the technical requirements for the blackbelt rank. As a blackbelt may be seen as an assistant instructor, it is important that he or she can demonstrate techniques to lower ranking students when the Sensei requests. There is not expectation of any level of mastery of such techniques – as mastery may take decades, and may in fact never be achieved, but technical competence is required.
2. The second factor I consider is demeanor, attitude, and morals. Nothing can ruin a school faster than an instructor with a negative demeanor, attitude, or bad morals. No human is perfect – we all have our faults and vices, but I do consider what kind of person is going to be put into a leadership position – even if it is a junior one. A blackbelt must be a person I can trust to take care of the students and have their best interest in mind at all times. They must be aware of safety factors, and understand how to help someone train. They have to be challenging, but benevolent.
3. Ego. Too much ego is a big deterrent for me. This means one is more concerned with themself than the student or the school. One must be humble and understand that the blackbelt is the beginning of learning for real. One must be humble about his achievements, and understand there is continued, ongoing, and lifelong work ahead of them in the martial arts. Most of all, one should downplay their own technical ability – no matter how good they are, and consistently work on developing and encouraging others toward success.
4. Contribution is also important to me. How much has this person helped others and helped the school? Does this person take, take, take, or consistently give back to the school in some way?
5. Would this person be a good representative of the school? Could he answer questions of the uninitiated? Would his or her demeanor and attitude toward their school turn someone away, or encourage them to give it a try?
6. Now onto the most important one in my book – can this person defend themselves using the technical knowledge provided by their system? When I look at that person do I see a warrior spirit? Am I confident he or she could hold their own in a violent attack? Does the person have the true essence of what real self defense is emblazoned on their mind and spirit – or is this all just a game to them? Would they sacrifice themselves to save their loved ones? Would they fight to the end in a violent encounter and never give up? Would they avoid an altercation if they had a choice because they are confident in their ability to defend themselves? In the end – it all comes down to this for me – can the person adeqately demonstrate the technical aspects necessary, and can this person actually defend themselves? If the answer is yes to these – then I seriously consider a blackbelt level for the person. All the other things have their place too – but these are the most important.
When that person dons a black belt – that belt holds symbolism to all who see it. I means this person can defend themselves. It means they have been “through the gauntlet” of training for several years. It means they can answer the questions and give direction to other students. It means they can hold their own against other blackbelts in the school.
After achieving the blackbelt – the journey is long, and achievement is measured in these and other ways. But for the first degree of Blackbelt – the Okuiri – the entrance to the yudansha world – I consider the items afore mentioned.
As instructors, we ourselves continue along a timeline of growth and development. Some reach mastery and others do not – but each grows in one way or the other. It is our job to take a step back – way back for some of us – into our own history, and make sure that we apply the correct level of scrutiny of those trying to achieve their first blackbelt. It is so important for the development of the dojo, and the students, that we as instructors get this right, and understand what it does take to earn a blackbelt.
Let’s Not Lose Our Way
July 20th, 2010
As a martial arts instructor, one of the things that “keeps me up at night” is making sure that what and how I am teaching gives my students a real fighting chance in a violent encounter.
I have known people in other martial arts that trained for years and attained high rank who had their asses handed to them when they were finally confronted with violence. That worries me. It makes me think about exactly what I am teaching and how. I think about it all the time. I think about each and every technique, and how we approach it. I think about how I train people to do it. I think about their ability to actually pull it off.
I also know that I have to be brutally honest to my students – sometimes to the detriment of membership. I tell them that years of Jujitsu training will give them no guarantee that you can defend yourself in a real attack. I can tell them that the knowledge and training will give them a much better chance of surviving than they had before training in self defense, but I cannot tell them what they – the individual – will or will not actually do in a violent attack. I also repetitively tell them that taking on a group of thugs in a multiple attack situation is Saturday afternoon martial arts movie fiction. Mostly I tell them to avoid and evade. But I feel I have to tell them this, because media, movies, magazines lead them to think that the martial arts make you superman. And boy – from someone who has been in a few altercations – I can tell you it just isnt so. Yes – techniques will give you a better chance, but it is truly exhausting work, and a gamble at best.
So – with this being some of my main concerns – I am awfully worried about the training that is available and popular. I am afraid that those lookiing to learn how to actually defend themselves from a violent attack may take up training methods that will get them hurt or worse. There are pure tradition arts that set up unrealistic kata for their students to practice. They may even have attack and defense scenarios. The problem is – nobody ever questions the scenarios. Do they even happen? Do they happen in that manner? If they do – how violent and forceful are they? There are competition based arts that show you how to score points, or cause someone to submit to a technique. They too set up unrealistic situations for which many hours of training are spent, and students develop a false sense of ability based on their competative success.
Where the issue lies with these situations is that students are taught responses to things that rarely if ever happen in a violent attack. I am not talking about a fight in a ring, or a match on mats, or an ego-filled fist fight. What I am talking about is a gun to the back at the ATM machine, or someone who gets into your car at a stoplight and puts a gun to the side of your head, or a crazed person who walks into a convenience store and begins to stab people, or someone who enters your home and attempts to assault you, or the couple of gang bangers who corner you at the garage elevator. These are the things that happen, and these are the things a real self defense school teach you to respond to.
More than just giving you a response however, is the need for the school to allow you to test the theories they propose. After some training – I make sure that students have to respond to unplanned self defense situations. “Attackers” can attack in any manner with any weapon and the student has to respond appropriately. For more advanced students we do this in many terrains – on a trail, in the woods, in a pool, on a beach, in a park, in a parking lot, in a small room, in a car. This is necessary for competent self defense skills.
More than that – I as the instructor have to let go of ego – and challenge my advanced students to challenge me, the teaching methods and the techniques themselves. I have to research, read accounts of attacks, watch videos of attacks, and interview people who have been attacked to keep up to date on what is really happening out there. It is my job!
So – in conclusion, I say – “Let’s Not Lose Our Way!” No matter how cool the fancy multiple move technique is, no matter how cool the newest grappling move is, no matter what flashy knife fighting technique comes down the pike – dont lose your way. Self defense demands hard training on proven techniques, appropriate for your situation, against well researched and forceful attacks, that allow the practitioner to escape the violent encounter, or protect others from it.


