Sensei

“Line up! Bow!” I say the commands sharply, and as she bows, I do too, hands in fists, one holding the other, then slap my hands to my sides in attention.

“Always keep your eyes on your opponent, even when bowing,” I tell her. “Run through your katas and give me your best.”

Circling her, I watch, correcting her punches lining up her feet, hips, and shoulders. “When you do your kiai, I should be able to punch you in the stomach and not push you back or hurt you,” I explained. “Ready?”

I watch as she drops into a horse stance, closed fists on hips. I step in front of her and gently push to test the condition of her stance, and she doesn’t move. I push her harder, yet she maintains her place. Without warning, I do a reverse punch to her gut; she yells out her kiai as I hit her and still keeps her stance.

“Good, that was good. You held your stance and tightened your stomach using the kiai exactly as you should. I want you to run through all the katas again. Make your punches fast and sharp. I want to hear your gi snap when you punch or kick.”

Four more times, she does the required nine katas; her hair is tied back, but I see the sweat gleaming on her neck and forehead. Her form is excellent, and she is ready to be my team lead for the class. One more test, though.

“Enough, Martin, your skills are impressive; however, can you use the kata movements in kumite? After all, the kata is training for fighting. Every kata has moves that one uses in kumite, and especially in a random attack to protect oneself.”

“Yes, Sensei, I will do well in kumite also.”

“Ready?” I bow, she follows suit, and we square off. As I move in, crowding her, I punch her midsection, and she blocks it but then catches my reverse punch square in the middle of her chest. I continue moving in, a reverse roundhouse kick catching her in the midsection.

“You are not guarding!” I yell at her, frowning. “Keep your elbows in, your hands ready to block or punch. Use the X block or a forearm block.” I continue at her, close, attacking, pushing her to think and use her skills. “Remember the Seiuchin kata and use your blocks!! You are failing the kumite portion. You cannot help in the class without mastering kumite!”

She renewed her efforts to beat me, but she lost, even when I gave her room and lightened my attack.

I took her by the wrist and led her to the side bench, patting it in a gesture as if to say ‘sit.’

“Don’t be discouraged. Go get some refreshments, take a break, and we will meet again at one-thirty, okay?” She smiles and grabs her wallet.

I enter my office and look over my students' written tests, using smiley face stickers for good and frowns for bad. I had given an impromptu test the day before on the katas. Many schools don’t do that, but I feel the students need to know the katas in their minds as well as their muscles; they need to know some history behind martial arts. Discipline is very important, and the parents of the grade-schoolers compliment me on how well-behaved the kids are. Of course, I think -  I brook no back talk and wear a black belt with three white stripes on it, signifying my 3^rd degree. I speak in a firm voice, and they line up immediately upon my order to do so. I don’t understand why the parents don’t teach the same discipline at home.

When the phone rings, I intake another new student, patiently answering questions first, then taking their credit card information for the three-month membership fee. I always recommend three months to start, although some pay the annual premium, knowing there are NO refunds.

Martin (Sally) is back and removing her shoes to enter the dojo. She pads to my office in bare feet. “I’m ready, Sensei, to practice kumite.”

I look up from my desk, then back down. “You are, huh? Run through your katas first as a warm-up.” She looks disappointed but does what I say and is sharp on moves, her gi snapping, her kiais louder.

The dojo door opens and slams shut as my brown belt student Larry arrives. He takes off his size twelve shoes, drops them to the floor, and balls up his socks inside them. He watches Martin doing her katas, then begins his. I leave my office and walk onto the dojo floor at the end where the mats are. “Larry, come here.” He approaches and bows to me. I nod, bow, and drop to a stance, left leg forward, left hand up with the right in a fist on my hip. I step toward him, and he backs up, then aims a snap kick at me, but I’ve stepped in and blocked it. He throws a reverse punch, which I block; then I use a foot sweep, and Larry is on the mat looking up at me in surprise. “Martin, do you think you can kumite with Larry?” She skips across the floor eagerly, ready to show her sensei her fighting skills against this larger student. She bows to me, eyes meeting mine.

“Yes, Sensei, I will do kumite with Larry, gladly.” We walk to the bare floor, and I line them up.

“Ready?” I put a hand between them, looking at each, and then drop my arm and say, “Fight!”

Martin moves quickly, crowding Larry just as I taught her to do with bigger opponents. She continues closing in, staying close, throwing punches quickly, keeping him busy blocking. Martin steps off, and does a perfect round-house kick to Larry’s midsection, followed by a backhand. “No head contact, remember!” I yell out. Head contact is forbidden in my dojo, and part of the students’ learning is how to pull a punch at the last second. They are partners in my school, not enemies, and learn to fight without hurting each other.

They know I am scoring their fighting technique by counting the points earned in the practice kumite.

Larry knows he is bested by the younger, smaller student who has been in my dojo for less time than he. He backs up and comes to attention, bowing sharply.

“Sensei Martin, thank you for the lesson in kumite today.” He fingered his brown belt while looking at hers.

“Sally Martin, take a seat on the bench, please.” I go into my office and get the item I wish to give her from my lower desk drawer. “Martin! Front and center!” I shout. She runs across the dojo, stopping in front of me and bowing sharply, eyes on me the entire time.

“You have passed all of my written tests and performed all the katas with either a near-perfect or perfect score. In a competition, they would have given 9s and 10s. In a kumite ring, your fighting would have taken the match. You are ready, Sally.” 

I take the belt from behind my back, holding it out. “Sally Martin, Sensei Martin, here is your black belt. You earned it. My former apprentice is now my lead instructor. See you tomorrow!”