Last week, we held special classes for self-defense, street clothes, and sticky finger techniques. 1) Self-defense is pretty obvious - learning the three basic rules and applying them to various attack situations. 2) Street clothes class makes sense - you probably won’t be wearing a gi if you’re ever attacked on the street, so it’s important to see how your body moves with the restrictions of regular, street clothes. 3) ‘Sticky finger’ is a phrase I coined in the late 1960s. My Tae Kwon Do class was working on hand presses, grabs, twisting motion, etc. to off-balance your opponent and increase the damage done to him. My younger sister had a toy called ‘Sticky Finger’, so I used that phrase to remember the whole concept of what we practiced in that class. Several years later, Bruce Lee became famous and talked about his instructor, Yip Man, and the special ‘sticky hands’ techniques they practiced. Great, now it sounds like I’m ripping off Bruce Lee! I’ve been teaching ‘sticky finger’ techniques for decades now, since there are many hidden grabs, locks, twists, etc. in Shotokan kata, and telling the story of my sister’s toy. One time I saw a student rolling his eyes in a ‘yeah, riiight’ manner. For the record, a recent google search gave evidence of the original toy, 'Sticky Finger', from Mascon Toys, 1965. To that student who rolled his eyes I say, “yeah, right!”
Some of these thoughts, stories, and personal history appeared in our newsletter, "Dō Gakuin News". Few members have been with us since our first issue in 1993. As such, ideas on this page may have been printed before, but are worth telling again.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Speaking Japanese in class
The following is a true story I've retold dozens of times. I've written down the incident because it should help explain why we do some of the things we do.
A parent once came up to me asking why we bother to speak Japanese in class. I'm not Japanese, her son is not Japanese, and we're not in Japan. The Japanese are simply speaking their native language. We're in America, so why not just speak English?
The basic reason I've always read is that wearing a uniform, following specific rituals, and speaking a foreign language are all designed to make the student realize that what they're learning is 'special'. While partially true, that answer never fully satisfied me, so I knew that answer would not satisfy the parent.
I explained to the mother that her son is learning something about another culture. We touch on Japanese history and language. It is an attempt to force the student to think, as we train the mind as well as the body. We work on discipline - mental and physical. These are skills that can be applied outside the dojo into the student's school work and other areas for the rest of his life.
I then further explained how speaking commands in Japanese inside the dojo specifically relate to self-defense skills:
A student hears the Japanese phrase, recognizes what it means, decides what is the appropriate action to take, and takes the action.
This same four-step thought process occurs in self-defense:
A student sees an attack coming at him, recognizes what is happening, decides what is the appropriate action to take, and takes the action.
A parent once came up to me asking why we bother to speak Japanese in class. I'm not Japanese, her son is not Japanese, and we're not in Japan. The Japanese are simply speaking their native language. We're in America, so why not just speak English?
The basic reason I've always read is that wearing a uniform, following specific rituals, and speaking a foreign language are all designed to make the student realize that what they're learning is 'special'. While partially true, that answer never fully satisfied me, so I knew that answer would not satisfy the parent.
I explained to the mother that her son is learning something about another culture. We touch on Japanese history and language. It is an attempt to force the student to think, as we train the mind as well as the body. We work on discipline - mental and physical. These are skills that can be applied outside the dojo into the student's school work and other areas for the rest of his life.
I then further explained how speaking commands in Japanese inside the dojo specifically relate to self-defense skills:
A student hears the Japanese phrase, recognizes what it means, decides what is the appropriate action to take, and takes the action.
This same four-step thought process occurs in self-defense:
A student sees an attack coming at him, recognizes what is happening, decides what is the appropriate action to take, and takes the action.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thoughts on Tournaments
Clayton Conanan entered Kai Leung's Traditional Karate-do Invitational Championships last weekend. He came home with two Bronze Medals in Kata (forms) and Kobudo (weapons). Impressive. He then commented on his Kumite (sparring), noticing certain common weaknesses in others' fighting, and certain moves he did which scored well. I'm more impressed by what he learned while 'losing' than I am by his two medals.
As written in our newsletter, Autumn 1993 edition:
There are several reasons for entering tournament - some right reasons, and some wrong ones:
* If you want to win trophies - keep in mind that there are many more competitors than prizes. It's possible you might lose.
* If you're looking for a flashy event like in the "Karate Kid" movies - that's Hollywood, not real life.
* If you expect the ultimate in fair play and sportsmanship - welcome to the world of politics and favoritism.
So why bother? Well, competing in tournament offers you a great learning experience and other excellent benefits. Such as:
* You realize that you're part of a much bigger Karate "family" out there - not just our little dojo.
* You compete with strangers from other schools and styles - a great educational experience.
* You are judged by other Black Belts - more feedback than just from your Sensei.
* There is a great sense of honor, pride , and camaraderie in representing your dojo, and demonstrating how well you can perform.
If you enter tournament with the intention of learning, growing, broadening your experience, testing your mettle, challenging yourself to do your personal best - trophy or not - you are already a winner!
As written in our newsletter, Autumn 1993 edition:
There are several reasons for entering tournament - some right reasons, and some wrong ones:
* If you want to win trophies - keep in mind that there are many more competitors than prizes. It's possible you might lose.
* If you're looking for a flashy event like in the "Karate Kid" movies - that's Hollywood, not real life.
* If you expect the ultimate in fair play and sportsmanship - welcome to the world of politics and favoritism.
So why bother? Well, competing in tournament offers you a great learning experience and other excellent benefits. Such as:
* You realize that you're part of a much bigger Karate "family" out there - not just our little dojo.
* You compete with strangers from other schools and styles - a great educational experience.
* You are judged by other Black Belts - more feedback than just from your Sensei.
* There is a great sense of honor, pride , and camaraderie in representing your dojo, and demonstrating how well you can perform.
If you enter tournament with the intention of learning, growing, broadening your experience, testing your mettle, challenging yourself to do your personal best - trophy or not - you are already a winner!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Origins of 'Naihanchi no Sai'
I've been a night worker on the 'graveyard' shift since 1980. I'll get home in the morning, put on the TV to something unexciting (usually PBS), and let it lull me to sleep. During light sleep phases, I often hear what's on the TV.
One morning the TV was 'talking' about Japan, which caught my ear. It mentioned a writer, C.W. Nicol, and his experiences in Japan. I know C.W. Nicol as the author of 'Moving Zen', his account of Karate training in Japan, a book I read in the mid 1980s. My eyes shot open just in time to see him performing sai kata. Halfway through it I realized he was doing Tekki Sho! That afternoon I went to the dojo and worked on the kata. I'm sure it's not identical to what Nicol did, but he has his way of performing Tekki Sho and we have ours. Feeling the kata was too short, I connected Tekki Sho and Tekki Ni into one effective kata. The sai is a Ryukyu Islands weapon, so I called this kata 'Naihanchi no Sai', differentiating the more fluid movements from a Japanese Tekki. Just as our version is slightly different from Nicol's, this kata can be performed even more fluid (like in Yamanni Ryu) or more static (like a Korean Chul-Gi). The versatility can suit a particular style or even a particular instructor.
New kobudo students often find it difficult to concentrate on fundamental manipulations with a new weapon and learn a new kata at the same time. I find Naihanchi no Sai works well because the student already knows the kata and can now concentrate on handling the weapon. It is the first sai kata taught at Ni Kyu before Kihon Sai or any Yamanni Ryu.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Story From My Youth
When I was a teen, nunchaku was not illegal, in fact, it was barely known, being before the Bruce Lee movies. I made my first pair of nunchaku in Junior High School wood shop class. One day, I was practicing in a local park, swinging and twirling away. Some old guy (old guy - he must've been in his 30s, but to a teenager, that's old) came up to me and asked why I kept missing my target. I said he doesn't know what he's talking about, in fact he probably doesn't even know what I'm doing. He then insisted that I'm missing my target. After a little banter back and forth, he suggested that I go over and hit that tree with my nunchaku. I did, and the stick rebounded off the trunk and smashed into my funny-bone. While I rubbed to try and regain some feeling in my arm, he explained all my twirling meant that I missed my target; that an actual strike rebounds back, making all that twirling senseless. A nunchaku has two handles and is meant to be swung and caught, or used two-handed to trap and break. I never forgot that lesson.
In the 1980s, at a Miyazaki Invitational Championship, some young Black Belt gave a demo using two nunchakus. The audience ooh-ed and aah-ed as he twirled away. Some seniors in the crowd yelled 'Osu!' when he dropped one of his weapons, but overall, the demo was met with loud cheering. I realized the limited martial value of what he was doing, even though it was a spectacular performance.
A former friend of mine came to visit my dojo shortly after Sensei Takahashi came back from Japan and taught all those in attendance a new nunchaku kata he just learned - 'Sokan'. I even got it on video. It was a nice enough kata, nothing spectacular, but very traditional with strike-catch moves, trapping and breaking moves, and lack of twirls. My students and I found it interesting, but too much for me to learn in a short time. I thought about it that night, and realized I could do all the same movements by combining the top bar of Heian Nidan, Heian Godan, and the rest from Heian Yodan. The next day I went to the dojo and worked out the kinks, called it 'Pinan no Nunchaku' (giving it a more Okinawan flavor, as nunchaku is an Okinawan weapon), and showed it to some of my senior students. The next week when my friend came to visit he showed me Sokan again, I showed him Pinan no Nunchaku, and we were both impressed. From then on Pinan no Nunchaku became a kobudo requirement for Ikkyus and above in Dō Gakuin.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVG1vHBhqBg
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