Being a good leader or teacher requires many qualities. Sometimes we need to be part drill instructor, part therapist, part comedian, and part parental figure… among others! The challenge is knowing what the student needs from us at that moment.

Sometimes they need a clear direction. Sometimes they need encouragement. Sometimes a little humor helps them relax enough to try again. And sometimes they need us to step back and give them an opportunity to figure something out.

There are many methods we can use to fulfill those roles. But whatever method we choose, we need a good balance of authority, influence, and room for the student to come to their own conclusions. We are helping them develop the ability to recognize what needs to be done and take responsibility for doing it.

Be the Influencer!

One of the strongest ways we can teach that is by setting an example.

If an instructor arrives ready to train, with their uniform straight and neat, it sets a tone of orderliness. If that same instructor is loudly chewing gum, carrying on side conversations, or only half paying attention, that sets a tone too.

We are influencing the room either way.

This is part of how we create and preserve the purpose of the dojo. The way we bow, listen, prepare, and treat our training partners helps students understand what matters here. They see how we behave when we are leading, but they also see how we behave when someone else is speaking and it is our turn to listen.

That example matters just as much when we are assisting. An assistant who stays attentive and ready to help gives the students a model to follow while supporting the person leading the class. We do not have to be the person giving directions to have an effect on the room.

Think of a young teacher sitting beside a rambunctious student. The teacher sits straight, settles down, and pays attention. The student notices and may begin to do the same. Before saying a word, the teacher has shown the student what being ready looks like.

It is a small thing. But small things, repeated consistently, help establish the habits of a class.

A more experienced teacher can use the same principle while leading drills. Instead of making every comment a correction, the instructor notices students doing something well. Perhaps someone is keeping their hands up, returning to a good stance, or giving their partner careful attention.

The instructor points out that specific effort. Now the other students have something clear to look for and try themselves. As more students make the adjustment, the instructor recognizes their progress too. Like a ripple, the good example can move through the class.

The praise needs to be sincere. We should notice real effort and improvement, including the small success of a student who is struggling. That gives everyone a way to participate in the good example.

3 × 3

This is where the 3x3 concept comes in: make at least three personal contacts with each student during every class or lesson. Students need to know that you know they were there.

Those contacts can be verbal or physical. Using a student’s name positively is always the best place to start. Greet them by name when they arrive. Recognize something they are doing well during a drill. Let them know you noticed their effort before they leave. Asking a student to help with a demonstration or giving them a fist bump counts too.

These do not have to be long conversations or interruptions to the class. A brief, sincere moment of attention can let a student know they are seen and that their participation matters.

It is easy to give plenty of attention to the student who needs frequent correction or the student who is always eager to volunteer. We also need to notice the quiet student who comes in, works hard, and asks for very little. The 3x3 concept gives us a practical reminder to reach everyone.

Three contacts give us something concrete to aim for, but the purpose is the connection. Each student should leave knowing their instructor noticed them, worked with them, and cared that they were there.

Influence can be even quieter than that.

Imagine an instructor entering a room where ten students are fooling around before class. The instructor sits in the middle of the floor and begins stretching. One student notices and joins in. Then another. As the students gather, the instructor welcomes them and directs their attention toward training.

The instructor has given them a place to start. Each student has an opportunity to notice what is happening and choose to join.

Of course, this will not work in every situation. If someone is being unsafe, we need to intervene. If a student does not understand what is expected, we need to explain it. And if our example is not reaching them, we need to give clearer direction. Knowing when to do that is part of teaching too.

Using influence does not always give us the satisfaction of an immediate result. A command may produce a quicker response. It can feel reassuring to say something and watch the room change.

Use time as your Ally

But we also need to consider what the student is learning over time.

When students notice a good example, make an adjustment, and experience the difference for themselves, they take a more active part in learning. We have helped them find the next step while leaving them some responsibility for taking it.

That takes patience. Our example has to remain steady long enough for students to recognize that it is how we do things here. The standards, the encouragement, and our willingness to help need to be present from class to class.

There is room for warmth in all of this. We can laugh, enjoy our students, and make the dojo a welcoming place while keeping its purpose clear. Our own behavior can show students how to enjoy training and take it seriously at the same time.

So, before your next class, consider the example you are bringing into the room. Are you showing the attention you are asking for? The effort? The patience? When another instructor is teaching, are you being the kind of student you would like to teach?

Showing someone where the path is gives them an opportunity to choose their next step. Our job is to make that path clear, help them when they need it, and walk it ourselves.

More is caught than taught!

A special event is something beyond the ordinary. For us, it might be a kyu testing, a black belt testing, or something as big as our annual convention. Whatever the size, people put extra time, energy, and attention into making it happen.

When it is over, it is tempting to take a breath, put everything away, and move on. We are tired. There is another class to teach. The regular responsibilities did not disappear while we were busy with the event.

But before we move on, we should take some time to talk about what happened.

That conversation does not always need to be a formal meeting. A short sit-down may do the job. Generally, the larger the event and the more people involved, the more organized the discussion should be. Either way, the purpose is the same: improve the quality of what we do and the way we work together.

This is especially important when we plan to repeat the event. What we learn now can make the next one better. Even if we never run that particular event again, we will probably help with another one. Lessons about preparation, communication, and teamwork tend to travel well.

Here are five things worth making time for.

1. Recognize the people who made it happen

Start by thanking everyone for their effort. This matters whether you were running the event or helping with one small part of it.

People gave their time. They took on extra responsibilities and worked for the benefit of others. Recognize that. Be specific when you can: someone stayed late, helped a nervous student, or quietly handled a job that needed doing.

We can appreciate someone’s effort and still discuss how a task could be done better. People should leave knowing that their contribution mattered.

2. Talk about what went well

It is easy to finish an event and immediately start listing everything that bothered us. Give the good parts some attention too.

What worked? What went better than expected? Where did students, families, or team members have a particularly good experience?

Write those things down and talk about why they worked. If clearer instructions helped everyone arrive prepared, keep those instructions. If a change in the schedule gave students more time, remember that when planning again. Understanding our successes helps us repeat them.

3. Be honest about what could have gone better

Nothing goes exactly according to plan. Certainly, very few events run exactly as the people organizing them hoped they would.

That gives us something to learn. Where were people confused? What took longer than expected? Did someone need information or help that arrived too late?

Describe what happened without beating yourself up or turning the discussion into a search for someone to blame. Then ask what we could do differently. “We needed someone assigned to check people in” gives us something useful to act on.

4. Address concerns within the team

People can get on each other’s nerves. Add a busy schedule, a little pressure, and a few tired people, and misunderstandings can happen.

If something is bothering a team member, make room to hear it. Listen before explaining. Be specific about the situation and its effect, and give the other person a chance to respond. Some concerns belong in the group discussion; more personal matters may be better handled privately.

The goal is to understand what happened and work together more effectively. We may not solve everything in one conversation, but we can acknowledge a concern, clear up a misunderstanding, and agree on a better way to communicate next time.

5. Capture ideas for the next event

This is the fun part. While the experience is fresh, write down the ideas people have for making the next event better.

We will not be able to do all of them. That is fine. Save the possibilities, choose a few useful improvements, and make sure someone knows who is following up. Bring those notes back out when planning begins again.

A good idea does us very little good if everyone forgets it before the next event.

Even a difficult event has good parts worth recognizing. Even an excellent event has something we can improve.

As instructors, we ask students to pay attention, accept correction, and keep working to get better. Taking time after a special event to appreciate the effort, learn from the experience, and follow through is one more way we practice what we teach.

Formal exercises, such as kata, are among the biggest physical differences between what we do and more conventional fighting or fitness training.

Working with a student one-on-one is fairly straightforward. When leading a group of people, however, things can get a little tricky. Formal exercises are very detailed, and it can be easy to fall into one of two traps: either bypassing valuable opportunities for correction or going into so much detail that the entire experience becomes boring.

When everything is executed properly, however, an entire group of students can benefit tremendously from practicing formal exercises together.

Traditional Exercises and Modern Exercises

There is an important distinction between our traditional warm-up exercises and more modern exercise systems.

One of the greatest advantages of the traditional exercises is the connection they give us to Kanei Uechi himself. When we perform the same exercises that were passed down through him, we are doing more than warming up our bodies. We are participating in a shared tradition that connects generations of Uechi-ryu practitioners.

That connection is valuable, and the formality surrounding these exercises are wicked important.

However, preserving tradition does not mean merely going through the motions. If we are going to perform the traditional exercises, they must be done in a way that gives everyone the workout they were designed to provide. The movements should be performed with proper range of motion, energy, focus, and intent. Keeping the appearance of an exercise while losing its physical purpose does not properly preserve the tradition.

The formality creates the connection to yesteryear, but the way the exercises are performed gives them modern value.

Modern exercise systems have advantages as well. They are often more practical, more easily adapted and updated according to our current understanding of physical conditioning. Including modern exercises also demonstrates that we are not simply old relics of yesteryear. We are willing to learn, adapt, and use methods that make sense for the students standing in front of us today.

At the same time, students can perform many of those modern exercises in almost any gym. They do not necessarily make our training unique.

The goal should not be to choose between tradition and modern practice. We should preserve the traditional exercises because of the history, identity, and physical lessons they carry while also using modern exercises when they better serve the needs of the class. Tradition gives us our foundation. Modern knowledge helps us continue building upon it.

With that balance in mind, here are some thoughts for leading a group through formal exercises:

Students Should Know What Is Expected of Them

This is often overlooked, but it is an essential part of communication from the instructor.

All formal exercises can be practiced in a variety of ways. Are the students working on speed, power, balance, precision, flexibility, breathing, or simply learning the sequence? Making the class aware of the goal will go a long way toward helping everyone achieve it. It also creates a sense of consistency throughout the exercise.

Students should not have to guess what the instructor wants from them.

Vary the Tone

Few things are more effective at controlling the tempo of a class than voice inflection.

Proper use of voice inflection can emphasize and reinforce the goals and expectations of the exercise. A firm, energetic count can encourage power and intensity. A slower and more measured count can emphasize balance, control, and proper form.

The instructor’s voice should support the type of performance being requested from the class.

Maintain Eye Contact

Formal exercises are repetitive by nature, and the benefits require the repetition. Therefore, it is extremely easy for students to begin drifting off mentally.

Maintaining eye contact with individual students helps the instructor determine whether they are focused and engaged. Students also tend to be more attentive when they know the instructor is watching them.

Obviously, when working with a group, the instructor must become skilled at rotating their attention throughout the class. Do not focus exclusively on the front row, the senior students, or the people who need the most correction. Everyone should feel that the instructor is aware of their efforts.

Offer Details During the Exercise

Formal exercises contain many details that can be improved. However, attempting to correct every detail at once will usually overwhelm the students.

When counting through an exercise, the instructor should remind the class of a specific detail just as they are approaching that part of the movement. For instance, saying, “Remember to snap your kicks,” immediately before the class executes a kick reminds everyone what they should focus on at the moment when the instruction is most useful.

Timing the correction properly can be just as important as the correction itself.

Choose one or two details and allow the class to work on them. Once those details begin to improve, the instructor can move on to something else.

Set the Example

Remember, nothing teaches better than a good example.

Teachers and instructors in every profession can talk until they are blue in the face, but nothing speaks louder to a group of students than the instructor’s own performance.

If the instructor asks for energy, the instructor should demonstrate energy. If the instructor asks for precision, the instructor should demonstrate precision. If the instructor expects the traditional exercises to be performed with purpose rather than treated as empty movements, that purpose must be visible in the instructor first.

The class will often follow the example more closely than it follows the explanation.

End With a Review

After a formal exercise has been completed, the instructor should say something complimentary. Nothing needs to be exaggerated. A simple, “Thank you for your putting your best foot forward,” will set the tone nicely.

This is also a fantastic opportunity to give the class an honest assessment of its performance:

“Good effort. The kicks were better, but we can still take them up another notch.”

A good ending review recognizes the effort, identifies the improvement, and gives the students something to carry into the next practice.

Formal exercises connect us to our history, strengthen our bodies, and help establish the shared standards of the dojo. When they are led with clear expectations, proper energy, and meaningful correction, they become far more than movements performed by habit. They become a living connection between what was passed down to us and what we are responsible for passing on.

I once heard someone say that one of the hardest things in life is telling your grandmother something you know she doesn't want to hear.

The hardest part isn't necessarily explaining what happened. The hardest part is starting the conversation.

Once you get started, things usually become easier.

Teaching a class can be very much the same way.

Standing in front of a group of people and teaching is difficult. It doesn't matter whether you are teaching five people or fifty. There is a certain amount of pressure that comes with being the person everyone is looking at and expecting something from.

So don't make things harder.

One of the easiest traps for an instructor to fall into is believing that a good class has to be complicated.

It doesn't.

You don't have to demonstrate everything you know. You don't have to correct everything you see. You don't have to explain every possible application of a movement or every small detail that you have discovered over twenty or thirty years of training.

You need to teach the class that is standing in front of you.

There is an old philosophical principle that fits remarkably well here: Occam’s Razor.

William of Ockham was born around 1287 or 1288 in the small village of Ockham in Surrey, England. He became a Franciscan friar, theologian, logician, and philosopher, and eventually became one of the more influential thinkers of the Middle Ages. He died in 1347, at approximately sixty years old.

Although the idea of simplicity in reasoning existed before him, Ockham used the principle so consistently that it eventually became associated with his name.

One version appearing in the Latin philosophical tradition surrounding his writings is:

“Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate.”

Translated into English:

“Plurality should not be posited without necessity.”

That's a very philosophical way of saying something considerably simpler:

Don't make something more complicated than it needs to be.

The word razor came to represent the idea of shaving away unnecessary assumptions and complications until you are left with what is actually needed.

That is a pretty useful principle for an instructor.

If you can explain something clearly with one idea, don't use five.

If a student can improve by concentrating on one correction, don't give them six.

If an exercise accomplishes what you want it to accomplish, don't keep adding things to it simply because you can.

This doesn't mean that the simplest answer is always the correct answer.

Martial arts can be enormously complicated. Sometimes understanding something correctly requires digging deeply into it. There are times when complexity is necessary.

The point is that complexity should have a reason for being there. Don't add complexity simply because you possess it.

Which brings us to an important question. If we shave away everything that doesn't need to be there, what is the most important thing an instructor is trying to accomplish?

Inspire the student.

There are many responsibilities that come with being an instructor. We need to educate our students. We need to correct them. We need to make sure they are practicing safely and developing good habits. We need to continue improving ourselves so that we have something worthwhile to give them.

All of those things are important. But don't allow all of those responsibilities to bury the most important one.

Inspire the student.

• An inspired student will practice.

• An inspired student will ask questions.

• An inspired student will make mistakes, figure things out, make more mistakes, and eventually begin discovering things for themselves.

That process is incredibly important.

Sometimes instructors make the mistake of trying to eliminate that process. We see something a student doesn't understand and immediately want to explain it. Then we see something else and explain that. Before long, one correction has become five corrections, and a simple exercise has become a lecture.

We believe we're helping because we're giving the student more information, but sometimes we're actually making things harder.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with giving a student something to think about. There is nothing wrong with correcting an important mistake. There is nothing wrong with stopping the class for a moment and explaining something that will help everyone.

But you don't have to fix everything today.

• There will be another class.

• There will be another kata.

• There will be another opportunity to make another correction.

Sometimes the best thing an instructor can do is give the student one good piece of information and then let them work with it.

That also makes teaching easier.

If you walk into every class believing you need to deliver an incredible amount of information, you are putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. You begin worrying about whether you know enough, whether you've prepared enough, and whether everyone in the room is getting everything they possibly can from you.

Instead, simplify the objective.

• Give them something useful.

• Give them something they can practice.

• Give them something they can succeed at.

• And give them a reason to want to come back and learn more.

A confident instructor does not need to demonstrate how much he or she knows. A confident instructor can give students what they need and be comfortable knowing that there is more to come.

None of this means that we should stop learning, questioning, or refining our own art.

Quite the opposite - We should never stop.

Every instructor should continually work to become a better martial artist and a better teacher. We should examine what we do, question it, pull it apart, and put it back together again.

After all, martial artists are artists at heart.

And like all artists, we love complexity. We love taking something apart, studying every little detail, and then putting it back together with the belief that perhaps we can make it a little better.

An artist can stand in front of a masterpiece and, while everyone else is admiring its beauty, see the tiny flaws. He sees what he might change. He imagines how the next piece could be better.

Martial artists do exactly the same thing. That instinct is one of the things that allows our art to continue growing.

But it is not always the best way to teach a class.

Our personal pursuit of mastery does not have to become our students' burden.

We don't have to give them every discovery we've made. We don't have to explain every detail we see. And we certainly don't have to paint the entire picture for them.

Think about the teachers who inspired us.

They didn't paint the picture for us. They inspired us to become artists.

They gave us enough direction to move forward, enough correction to keep us on the right path, and enough room to discover things for ourselves.

Those discoveries became part of our martial art.

We should give our students that same opportunity.

• Give them the next clear brushstroke.

• Give them enough guidance to continue.

• Give them enough room to discover.

• And, most importantly, inspire them to keep painting.

Then trust that, with enough time, practice, and inspiration, they will create a masterpiece of their own.

Don't make things harder.

I once heard someone say that the three hardest parts of writing a book are:

1. How to start a sentence.

2. How to continue a sentence.

3. How to finish a sentence.

Obviously, the person was making a joke.

But anyone who has ever stared at a blank page knows there is at least a little truth behind it.

Ironically, I find much the same thing to be true about exercise.

Everyone who faithfully completes their workout feels pretty good about it afterward. They may have been tired. They may have struggled. They may even have hated a portion of it while they were doing it.

But afterward?

They are usually glad they did it.

The people who didn't exercise tend to have every reason in the world why they couldn't.

That is worth remembering as an instructor.

We already know that our students will probably be grateful for a good workout after the class is finished.

Our challenge is getting them successfully through the beginning, middle, and ending of each exercise along the way.

And each of those three parts requires something slightly different from the instructor.

THE BEGINNING

Before beginning an exercise, tell the students what you want them to do.

That sounds ridiculously simple.

It is also ridiculously important.

The explanation does not have to be complicated. In fact, in most situations, the shorter the explanation, the better.

Students should know:

• What they are doing.

• How they are doing it.

• Approximately how long they will be doing it.

• What you want them concentrating on.

That may take twenty seconds.

“We're going to do twenty push-ups. Keep your body straight, keep your hands underneath you, and work at a pace you can maintain. Ready?”

That is enough, as the student doesn't need a seminar on push-ups. They need direction.

In my experience, when an exercise or drill doesn't go as smoothly as I would have liked, I can usually trace at least part of the problem back to the beginning.

Did I explain it clearly?

Did everyone understand where they were supposed to go?

Did they know who their partner was?

Did they understand the pace?

Did they know what I wanted them concentrating on?

Sometimes instructors become frustrated because students are doing an exercise incorrectly when, in reality, the students are doing exactly what they thought we told them to do.

That's on us.

A good beginning also does something else.

It refocuses the class.

One exercise has ended. Conversations may have started. People may be moving around. Attention has naturally scattered.

Your explanation brings everyone back together.

It says:

That exercise is finished. Here is what we're doing next.

Keep it short and sweet. Frequently, twenty good seconds are better than five mediocre minutes.

THE MIDDLE

Once the exercise begins, resist the temptation to keep teaching as though everyone is sitting behind a desk taking notes.

• They are exercising.

• Their brains are occupied.

• Their bodies are occupied.

And, depending upon what you asked them to do, they may also be getting tired.

This is where short instruction becomes extremely effective.

Someone doing push-ups probably doesn't want to hear:

“Remember everyone, one of the most important elements of proper push-up technique involves maintaining appropriate alignment throughout the posterior chain…”

They are doing push-ups, so give them something they can use immediately.

• “Back straight.”

• “Eyes up.”

• “Good pace.”

• “Hands underneath you.”

Those short corrections can change the exercise without stopping it.

And don't forget encouragement.

• “Looking good!”

• “Halfway there!”

• “Five more!”

• “Stay with it!”

• “Excellent job!”

There is a wonderful opportunity here that instructors occasionally overlook.

When students are working hard, they actually welcome having their attention pulled away from the discomfort of the exercise.

That is one reason people listen to music, podcasts, or audiobooks while running. Their bodies are doing the work, but their minds appreciate having somewhere else to go.

As instructors, we can use that same opportunity productively.

• We can correct.

• We can encourage.

• We can count.

• We can remind them what they are working toward.

• And sometimes we can simply provide energy.

But be careful.

Don't turn encouragement into another lecture.

A student performing an exercise doesn't need seven corrections simultaneously.

Give them the correction that matters right now.

If someone's back is sagging during a push-up, fix the back. You can worry about the exact position of their fingers another day.

If the whole class is struggling, give the whole class a correction.

“Everyone—keep those hands up.”

If one student needs something quick:

“Shawn—little wider stance.”

Then move on.

Remember: See everything., overlook a great deal and correct a little.

And whenever possible, notice what is going well too.

• “That's it!”

• “Much better!”

• “Excellent adjustment!”

A correction tells students what to change and recognition tells them they successfully changed it.

Both are valuable.

THE END

The ending of an exercise is probably the easiest of the three parts, but it is also one of the easiest to forget.

When the exercise is finished, finish it.

Don't simply stop counting and wander into whatever comes next.

Give the students a small moment of closure.

• “Excellent job.”

• “Very good.”

• “Nice work, everyone.”

• “Thank you.”

It doesn't have to be dramatic.

At the end of class, we traditionally use Gokurō-sama to recognize everyone's hard work.

Every exercise does not require that level of ceremony.

But the principle behind it is useful.

The instructor is communicating two things:

I recognize the work you just did.

And:

That exercise is finished. We're moving forward.

That second part is more important than it may sound.

If students know an exercise has a definite ending, they can give more effort while they are doing it.

Imagine telling a class:

“Start doing push-ups.”

Eventually somebody is going to wonder:

• How many?

• How long?

• When are we stopping?

Now compare that with:

“Twenty push-ups. I'll count them.”

• The exercise has boundaries.

• There is a beginning.

• There is a middle.

And—thankfully—there is an end.

When they reach that end, acknowledge it.

“Twenty! Excellent job. Everyone up.”

In five seconds you have congratulated them, closed one exercise, and refocused them for the next.

SCALE IT TO THE SITUATION

Obviously, not every exercise deserves the same amount of attention.

If you are leading Jumbi Undo, you do not need to give an inspirational speech before every movement.

“Next exercise. Ten repetitions. Ready?”

During it: “Good posture.”

At the end: “Very good. Next.”

That's enough.

But if you are conducting a major drill, leading a large seminar, or introducing something difficult for the first time, exaggerate all three parts.

• Give a stronger beginning.

• Make absolutely certain everyone understands what they are doing.

• During the exercise, provide more energy, more encouragement, and carefully selected corrections.

And when they finish?

Let them know they accomplished something.

The size of the beginning, middle, and ending changes.

The principle does not.

PEOPLE REMEMBER HOW AN EXERCISE FELT

As instructors, we naturally think about the technical purpose of an exercise.

• Did it improve strength?

• Balance?

• Speed?

• Stamina?

• Technique?

All of those things matter.

But the student experiences something else at the same time.

They experience the way we led them through it.

• Were they confused when it started?

• Did they feel like they knew what was expected?

• Did someone help them when they struggled?

• Did the instructor notice their effort?

• Did they know when they succeeded?

That experience influences how enthusiastically they approach the next exercise—and eventually the next class.

A good instructor doesn't merely choose good exercises.

A good instructor delivers them well.

Start clearly.

• Guide them while they work.

• Finish positively.

• Then move on.

• Beginning.

• Middle.

• Ending.

It works for writing a book and it works pretty well for teaching a class too.

There are many good ways to structure a martial arts class.

And there are plenty of bad ones!

One of the goals of a seasoned instructor is to continually mix things up enough that the material does not become stale. Students should never feel as though every Monday class is exactly the same as the Monday before it.

At the same time, variety should not come at the expense of structure.

Over the years, the following basic format has served me very well. I certainly do not follow it every time I teach, nor do I believe every class needs to fit neatly into six sections. Instead, I look at it as a framework.

The structure serves the class, however the class should never be forced to serve the structure.

A good instructor walks onto the floor with a plan. A better instructor is also willing to adjust that plan based on the people standing in front of him or her.

Part One: Read the Class

Five to ten minutes before class begins, get out there with the students and talk to them.

The conversation does not necessarily have to be serious. In fact, many times it should not be. Simply talking with people before class is one of the best ways to get a feel for where everyone is mentally and physically.

• Have they been sitting behind a desk all day and are anxious for a hard workout?

• Have they been working outside all day and would benefit from something smoother?

• Did someone have a stressful day and need a little reassurance?

• Is someone especially excited to train?

• Is a student unusually quiet?

Obviously, everyone in the room is not going to arrive with the same attitude. The goal is not to design an entirely different class for every person. The goal is to understand the group before you begin teaching them.

There is an important distinction here.

The mood of the class may influence how you teach the material, but it does not always determine what needs to be taught.

If Kumite needs work, you may still need to teach Kumite. However, if the entire group walked in exhausted, you may change the pace, spend more time drilling the sequence, adjust the partners, or reduce the intensity.

You are gathering information.

This time before class can also become an excellent opportunity to work briefly with a student who is struggling, answer a question, or encourage everyone to begin preparing themselves by stretching, moving around, practicing a Kata, or reviewing something from the previous class.

Do not underestimate these few minutes.

The class has already started even though you have not bowed in yet.

Part Two: Prepare the Class

The warmup is essential because not everyone had the same type of day before stepping onto the dojo floor.

• Some people are physically ready to go.

• Others need time.

• Some are mentally focused.

• Others are still thinking about work, school, traffic, family, or the twenty other things that happened during their day.

A good warmup brings everyone together.

It should prepare the body, but it should also help the students make the transition from whatever they were doing before class to what they are doing now.

There are many ways to accomplish this.

A tried-and-true sequence might include Jumbi Undo, Sanchin, Hojo Undo, Kotekitae, generic exercises, and a good stretch. Obviously, not every class will have the skill level or have the right attitude to do all of that.

Generally speaking, ten to fifteen minutes is a good amount of time.

However, the warmup can also begin preparing students for the theme of the class.

If the evening is going to involve a lot of kicking, spend some additional time preparing the hips, legs, and balance.

If you are going to work Kumite, incorporate movement, distancing, or some light partner exercises.

If Kata will be the focus, use Sanchin, turns, posture, stepping, and basic movements to prepare the students for what is coming.

In other words, the warmup does not have to be completely separate from the lesson. In fact, the ideal world is that every section of the class feeds from and into the other.

A well-designed warmup can begin teaching the class theme before the students even realize the theme has started.

Part Three: Establish the Theme

Every class should have a theme, goal, or objective.

This does not have to be complicated.

Classic themes might include Kata Training, Kumite Practice, Sparring Drills, Physical Fitness, Self-Defense, or Basics.

However, as an instructor develops, I encourage making the theme more specific.

• Instead of Kata, try Maintaining Sanchin posture during turns in Kata.

• Instead of Kumite, try Controlling distance while moving backward.

• Instead of Sparring, try Recognizing when you are close enough to attack.

That small change makes a tremendous difference.

Now you are not simply deciding what activity everyone will do. You are deciding what you want everyone to become better at.

Whenever practical, tell the students what that goal is.

It does not require a long speech.

“Tonight we are going to spend some time working on distance in Kumite.”

That one sentence gives everyone something to look for.

They are no longer merely going through Kumite.

They are studying distance through Kumite.

The first period of concentrated work on the class theme might last somewhere between seven and fifteen minutes, depending on the group and the material.

Remember that you do not have to teach everything you know about the subject.

Teach enough for the students in front of you to improve.

Part Four: Interrupt the Pattern

Humans, no matter how dedicated, naturally begin to lose focus over time.

This is especially true when the work is repetitive, highly technical, or physically demanding.

A good pattern interruption helps everyone mentally reset. It may also give tired muscles a short break or allow students to stop thinking about a difficult skill long enough for some of the lesson to settle in.

The key is that a pattern interruption should change the immediate activity.

If the class has spent a significant amount of time practicing Kata, a few minutes on the bags may work extremely well.

If the class has been heavily focused on Kumite or Sparring Drills, running through a Kata may give everyone exactly the change of pace they need.

If the class has been very physical, Sanchin may slow everyone down and bring the focus back to posture, breathing, and control.

There is another point worth considering.

A pattern interruption does not necessarily need to be a purpose interruption.

If your class theme involves a particular strike from Kata, perhaps the students practice that strike on the bag.

If you are teaching balance in Kumite, perhaps the interruption involves a short exercise that challenges balance in a completely different way.

The students get a mental break from the original activity while the instructor quietly continues reinforcing the lesson.

Five minutes is often plenty.

The goal is not to start an entirely different class.

The goal is to refresh everyone's attention before returning to the original one.

Part Five: Return to the Theme

After the pattern interruption, return to the class theme.

This is where the instructor needs to make another decision.

• Do the students need to repeat the material?

• Do they understand it well enough that you can refine it?

• Or are they ready for the next step?

The answer should be based on what you observed during the first round.

For example, if you are introducing a new Kata, you might teach the first section before the pattern interruption.

When everyone returns, quickly review what they already learned.

• If they are struggling, spend more time there.

• If they are comfortable, clean it up.

• If they are ready, move forward.

The important point is that the instructor should not become so attached to the original lesson plan that he or she ignores what is happening in the room.

Students do not need to reach a predetermined stopping point simply because that is what you wrote down before class.

Sometimes the best class is one where you planned to cover ten things and discovered that everyone needed to spend the entire evening working on number three.

Other nights, the students will understand something almost immediately and allow you to move much farther than expected.

Teach the students you have.

Not the imaginary class you planned earlier in the day.

Part Six: Finish on a Win

I used to call this section the “Fun Ending.” Don’t get me wrong, I still believe there is a lot of value in ending class with something people enjoy.

But I think the larger goal is more important.

Finish on a win.

The students should leave the floor feeling successful.

• That does not mean everything needs to be easy.

• It does not mean every class has to end with a game.

• And it certainly does not mean an instructor's job is to entertain everyone.

It means that after challenging people, give them an opportunity to recognize that they accomplished something.

If the class theme was difficult, finish with something they are comfortable doing well.

If the evening was extremely physical, allow everyone to finish feeling strong rather than completely destroyed.

If they spent the night learning something new, give them a chance to demonstrate to themselves that they actually learned it.

With adults, a short physical challenge, bag drill, Kata, or strong round of basics may be a great ending.

With children, a game might be exactly what is needed.

For another group, the best ending may simply be everyone performing the material they struggled with earlier—and performing it considerably better.

Before bowing out, take a few seconds to remind everyone what they accomplished.

“Tonight we worked on controlling our distance in Kumite. You were much better at it at the end of class than you were at the beginning. Next time, we are going to work on doing the same thing with a little more speed.”

That takes thirty seconds.

But it gives students three things.

It tells them what they learned.

It lets them know that you noticed their improvement.

And it gives them an idea of what comes next.

The Structure Is a Tool

There will be classes where this six-part structure works almost perfectly.

There will be other nights where you throw half of it out five minutes after bowing in.

That is perfectly fine.

A newer instructor may initially look at a class format like this and think:

• Warm up for ten minutes.

• Teach the theme for ten minutes.

• Interrupt the pattern for five minutes.

• Go back to the theme.

• Finish with something enjoyable.

• Bow out.

There is nothing necessarily wrong with that.

Having a structure is infinitely better than wandering onto the floor without any idea what you are going to teach.

But as instructors gain experience, the structure should become less of a schedule and more of a guide.

• Read the class.

• Prepare them.

• Give them a clear objective.

• Challenge them.

• Change the pattern before they become stale.

• Return to the lesson.

• Finish with success.

And throughout all of it, keep watching the people in front of you.

The goal is not to successfully complete your lesson plan.

The goal is to successfully teach your students.

TO A GROUP FOR THE FIRST TIME

Many of the principles used when teaching kata one-on-one will work just as well when teaching a group. There are, however, a few additional challenges that an instructor should consider.

When working one-on-one, you can stand beside the student, immediately see when they become confused, and adjust the pace of the lesson specifically for them.

In a group, everyone learns at a different speed.

Some students will understand the sequence quickly. Some will need additional repetitions. Others may appear to know what they are doing, but are really just following the person standing in front of them.

The instructor also has more to manage. You must make sure the students can see you, have enough room to move, are turning in the correct direction, and are not becoming overwhelmed.

That does not mean teaching kata to a group has to be complicated.

It simply means that the instructor needs a clear plan.

As with teaching kata one-on-one, I like to use Kanshiwa as the model. Kanshiwa is often the first kata that a newer instructor may be asked to help students learn.

Students learning Kanshiwa for the first time will usually have several things in common.

They are nervous.

They have very little knowledge of Uechiryu.

Their Sanchin will be limited at best.

Even if they are able to perform the complete Sanchin kata, their footwork, posture, hand position, balance, and focus will still be in the early stages of development.

When you are teaching Kanshiwa, you are not simply teaching a new sequence. You are continuing to reinforce the principles the students have already begun learning through Sanchin.

The group setting does not change that.

The students are still beginners. They are still processing a great deal of information, and they are still not ready for every detail.

The goal is to help the entire group take the next successful step.

BEGIN BY CONNECTING WITH THE CLASS

Start by briefly talking to the students.

Ask how they have been enjoying their training or whether they have any quick questions. Remember, people do not care how much you know until they know how much you care.

However, do not let this go on too long.

With one student, a conversation can get off track. With a whole group, it can get off track even faster. In most situations, a minute is more than enough.

From there, clearly explain the purpose of the lesson.

The students should know what they are learning and what they are expected to accomplish.

“So today we are going to begin working on your second kata. It is called Kanshiwa. I am going to show you the whole kata very quickly, but today we are only going to concentrate on the first six movements.”

That last sentence is important.

Learning an entire kata can sound intimidating.

Learning six movements sounds manageable.

ORGANIZE THE GROUP BEFORE YOU BEGIN

Before demonstrating anything, make sure the students have enough room to move safely.

Stagger the lines whenever possible. Students should not be standing directly behind one another. Staggering the lines gives everyone a better view and helps prevent students from stepping or kicking into someone else’s space.

You should also think about where you will stand.

The first movement in Kanshiwa involves pivoting to the left. When teaching one-on-one, I recommend standing to the student’s left so you can perform the kata side-by-side and remain in their field of vision.

The same basic idea applies to a group.

Position yourself where the greatest number of students can see and follow you. In most cases, this means performing the kata in the same direction as the students rather than standing in front and attempting to demonstrate everything as a mirror image.

A beginner is trying to copy your movements, listen to your words, remember the sequence, manage their balance, and control their nerves—all at the same time.

Standing in the right place makes their job easier.

USE D-E-C-R

Now is a good time to employ one of my favorite teaching methods:

D-E-C-R.

• Demonstration

• Explanation

• Correction

• Repetition

Begin by demonstrating the complete kata once.

The demonstration should be strong enough to inspire the students, but it should not become a performance. Give a short explanation of the movements as you go, but do not turn the demonstration into a lengthy seminar.

The students do not need to understand every movement yet. They simply need to see where their training is eventually going.

Once the demonstration is complete, put their minds at ease.

“That is the whole kata. Remember, we are not trying to learn all of that today. We are only working on the beginning.”

Now you are ready to teach.

EMPLOY THE THREE TIMES RULE

Guide the students through the opening movements of Kanshiwa and stop at the third punch.

That’s right.

Stop right there.

You have already given a beginner group plenty of information.

Take a moment to look around the room. Make sure the students are generally facing the correct direction and have the correct foot forward. Answer any quick questions, then reset the class.

Begin the kata again.

Guide the students through the same opening sequence and stop at the third punch.

That’s right.

Again.

Reset the class and begin for the third time. This time, continue through the two side kicks.

The side kicks are more complicated than the punches. They create additional challenges involving balance, posture, chambering, direction, and control.

However, because the students have already practiced the punching sequence several times, their minds are better prepared for the next challenge.

Repeat the sequence another two times before continuing into the horse-stance portion of the kata.

From there, continue using the same process.

Teach a small section.

Repeat it.

Return to the beginning.

Then add a little more.

The instructor may feel that constantly returning to the beginning is slowing down the class.

It is not.

That repetition is what gives the students a chance to remember the kata.

The students who learn quickly benefit by improving movements they already understand. The students who need more time benefit from seeing, hearing, and feeling the sequence again.

Everyone continues moving together, and no one is made to feel as though they are holding the class back.

TEACHING WITHOUT SKILLED ASSISTANTS

When teaching without skilled assistants, your positioning becomes extremely important.

In the beginning, you will probably need to perform nearly every repetition with the students. Stay where most of the class can see you and avoid moving around the room unnecessarily.

There will eventually be a time to step away and observe, but beginning students need a dependable example.

They should never turn and discover that the person they were following is no longer there.

Once the class becomes more comfortable with a section, you may move to a different position and watch them perform it. You may stand in front to observe their posture and hand position, or move to the side to see their stances and direction more clearly.

Do this gradually.

A group of beginners can become confused very quickly when their visual reference suddenly changes.

When you do step away, use your voice to guide them.

Count clearly and deliberately. Give the students enough time to complete one movement before calling the next.

The count should establish the tempo of the exercise, not rush the students through it.

You can also give short reminders immediately before difficult movements.

• “Remember—left foot.”

• “Look before you turn.”

• “Hands up for the kicks.”

• “Finish in Sanchin.”

Keep these directions short.

The students cannot process a paragraph while they are trying to move.

TEACHING WITH SKILLED ASSISTANTS

Skilled assistants can make teaching kata to a group considerably easier.

For this purpose, a skilled assistant does not necessarily have to be an experienced teacher. They simply need to know the kata well enough to provide a strong and dependable example.

Of course, skilled teachers are even better.

Place your assistants strategically throughout the group.

You may have one toward the front, another toward the back, and others positioned along the sides. Because kata constantly changes direction, this gives the students a reliable person to follow regardless of which wall they are facing.

The assistants should perform the kata with the group and follow the head instructor’s count.

Their first responsibility is to provide a good example of the sequence, direction, posture, timing, and effort.

They should not begin teaching their own version of the lesson while the head instructor is speaking.

Too many voices will confuse a beginner group very quickly.

One person should control the instruction.

The assistants support that instruction through their example.

During a reset, an assistant may quietly help a student who has become lost or is facing the wrong direction. Even then, the correction should be simple.

• “Start with your left foot.”

• “Turn toward me.”

• “Your right hand punches.”

The goal is to reconnect the student with the group—not begin a private lesson in the middle of the class.

Skilled assistants also allow the head instructor to stop demonstrating and begin observing.

It is difficult to watch an entire class carefully while you are performing the kata yourself. Once the assistants are providing dependable examples, you can step away and see what the students are actually doing.

This is often when you discover which students understand the sequence and which students have simply been following the person in front of them.

CORRECT THE GROUP WITHOUT STOPPING THE GROUP

One of the greatest dangers when teaching kata is trying to correct everything.

In a group, there will always be something to correct.

One student will have the wrong foot forward. Another will have low hands. Someone will be looking at the floor, and at least one student will eventually be facing an entirely different wall.

Remember what Pope John XXIII said:

See everything. Overlook a great deal. Correct a little.

First, correct mistakes that affect the sequence.

If students are turning in the wrong direction, that needs to be addressed before you worry about the exact angle of someone’s elbow.

Next, look for mistakes that are common throughout the group.

A general correction allows everyone to improve without singling out one nervous student.

• “Let’s all make sure we finish that punch in Sanchin.”

• “Everyone check the direction of the front foot.”

• “Let’s try the kicks again without leaning backward.”

Individual corrections can be made while the class is resetting, after the group has finished a section, or quietly by an assistant.

You can also draw attention to students who are doing something well.

• “Everyone watch how Michael turns his head before he moves.”

• “Sarah is finishing in a strong Sanchin position. Let’s all try to match that.”

Students will frequently correct themselves by copying a good example.

This keeps the lesson positive and prevents the group from feeling as though everything they are doing is wrong.

DO NOT OVER-CORRECT

A beginner does not need ten corrections at once.

They need the right correction at the right time.

During the first lesson, focus primarily on:

• Sequence.

• Direction.

• Basic posture.

If the students turn the right way, step reasonably well, and remember the general order of the movements, that is a successful first lesson.

There will be plenty of time later to work on the height of the hands, the position of the elbows, the quality of the stance, the timing of the turns, the chamber of the kicks, and the details of each strike.

Trying to correct every detail during the first class will not make the students better.

It will usually make them overwhelmed.

Give them a clear path forward.

DO NOT BE AFRAID TO STOP

There is no rule saying that the group must finish the entire kata during its first lesson.

In fact, stopping early is often the better decision.

It is far more valuable for students to leave class remembering the first section than it is for them to stumble through the entire kata and remember none of it.

If the class begins to look tired, confused, or overwhelmed, return to the section they know best.

Perform it two or three more times and finish with their strongest repetition.

Depending on the situation, you may choose to guide the students through the complete kata once near the end of the lesson.

If you do, explain why.

“We are going to go through the whole kata once so you can see how the sections eventually fit together. You are not expected to remember all of it today.”

The purpose is continuity—not memorization.

Finish with a simple review.

“That was a very good start. Today we worked on the opening punches, the two kicks, and the horse-stance sequence. The most important thing is that you remember those first three punches. We will build from there next time.”

The students should leave feeling that they accomplished something—not that they survived something.

THE ADVANTAGE OF THE GROUP

When taught properly, the group itself becomes an advantage.

The students benefit from the instructor, the assistants, and the examples being set by one another.

The repetition creates confidence.

The count creates rhythm and energy.

The shared challenge helps the students feel that they are progressing together.

The beauty of teaching kata this way is that every student should be able to leave remembering something useful.

At the very least, they should remember the first three punches.

They have seen them, heard them, practiced them, corrected them, and repeated them.

That gives the students something they can practice at home. It also gives the instructor something solid to build upon during the next class.

The first time teaching a kata is not about perfection.

It is about confidence, structure, and progress.

The goal is not to see how much of the kata you can fit into one class.

The goal is to give the students a strong beginning—and make them excited to continue.

to a Group for the First Time

Many of the principles used when teaching Kumite one-on-one will also work when teaching Kumite to a group for the first time. We’ll continue to use KYU KUMITE as our model.

The main difference is that you can no longer be every student’s partner. When you are working one-on-one, you control the speed, distance, power, and overall experience. In a group, some of that responsibility must eventually be given to the students and their partners.

How you prepare them for that will depend largely on whether you have skilled assistants in the class.

For our purposes, a skilled assistant does not necessarily mean someone who is highly skilled at teaching a class. A skilled assistant is someone who understands the Kumite well enough to be a good partner. This may be another instructor, an assistant instructor, or simply a senior student in the class. Naturally, a skilled teacher is ideal, but a student who understands the sequence, can control the pace, and can help a beginner feel comfortable can still be extremely valuable.

Teaching Without Skilled Assistants

When you do not have skilled assistants, it is very important to drill the sequence into the students before allowing them to punch at each other.

Begin by demonstrating the Kumite with the most experienced student in the class. Even if that student is not ready to teach the exercise, the demonstration gives everyone a person to watch while also giving that student additional experience. Over time, that student may become skilled enough to help you with future Kumite practice.

After the demonstration, begin with the ATTACK.

Always teach the attack first. Moving forward is easier than moving backward. Punching is easier than blocking. The attacking side is usually the easiest place for a new student to begin understanding the sequence.

Have the entire class practice the attack without a partner. They should move side-by-side with an “invisible opponent,” just as they would when learning Kumite one-on-one. Begin slowly. Once the sequence becomes more comfortable, gradually increase the speed.

From there, there are many ways to continue. We’ll look at two.

Approach One: Work with Each Student

After the class has practiced the attack without partners, have each student attack you individually.

This gives each student an opportunity to feel the proper distance, timing, and rhythm of the exercise with an experienced partner. It also allows you to make small corrections before that student begins working with another beginner.

Once everyone has attacked you, have the class repeat the attack without partners. This repetition is important. The students have now seen the exercise, practiced it by themselves, and felt it with a partner. Going through it again without partners gives their brains an opportunity to organize what they just experienced.

Then begin teaching the defense.

Practice the defensive sequence without partners first. Remember that the defense will normally be more difficult. The students must block while moving backward, and they must begin reacting to an attack rather than simply performing their own movements.

Once the defensive sequence has been drilled, work with each student again—this time with you performing the attack.

This is a slow process, especially with a larger class. However, it gives the students the strongest introduction to the exercise. They will usually have more fun once they begin working together, and they are more likely to remember the first few parts because they have already felt both sides with an experienced partner.

Approach Two: Drill Both Sides as a Group

The second approach is to teach both the attack and the defense without having each student work with you individually.

Begin by drilling the attack without partners. Start slowly and gradually increase the pace as the students become more comfortable.

Next, drill the defense without partners in the same manner.

Once the students have a basic understanding of both sides, divide them into pairs and allow them to begin working together.

This approach moves a larger group through the material more efficiently. However, it may be more difficult for the students to remember the sequence because neither partner has much experience with the exercise.

For that reason, I STRONGLY RECOMMEND very meticulous counting.

Control every movement. Do not allow the students to rush through the exercise simply because they believe they remember it. A clear count gives both partners time to move, block, reset, and prepare for what comes next. It also allows you to stop the entire class and correct a common problem before that problem is repeated several more times.

When two beginners are practicing together, the count becomes their experienced partner.

Teaching with Skilled Assistants

When skilled assistants are available, the education can be a little less rigid.

You should still demonstrate the Kumite, practice the attack first, and give the students a basic idea of the sequence. However, you may not need to spend as much time drilling every simple movement before allowing the students to work with partners.

The reason is simple: the skilled partner can help carry the beginner through the exercise.

A skilled partner can adjust the distance, slow down an attack, give the beginner time to recognize the next movement, and help the exercise continue when the beginner becomes confused. The interaction the student has with that partner will—in some ways—teach more effectively than anything you can say verbally.

There are parts of Kumite that students must eventually feel.

They must feel the distance between themselves and another person. They must learn when to move, when to block, and how to remain balanced while someone is moving toward them. A skilled partner can communicate those lessons through movement in a way that is difficult to reproduce through explanation alone.

This does not mean the skilled partner should drag the beginner through the entire Kumite. It also does not mean the partner should turn the exercise into a private lesson filled with constant corrections.

The skilled partner’s first responsibility is to provide a safe, controlled, and understandable experience. The instructor should still establish the goal, control the pace of the class, and decide how far the students will progress.

Do Not Rush the Sequence

Whether you have skilled assistants or not, accomplishing more than KYU KUMITE #1 is never necessary during a student’s first experience unless the class instructor has given a specific reason to continue.

There will be plenty of time for more later.

For students learning KYU KUMITE for the first time, never go beyond #3. The first three exercises provide more than enough material for students to begin learning distance, timing, blocking, movement, control, and how to work safely with another person.

KYU KUMITE #4 and #5 are very different. They contain considerably more kicking, which introduces additional balance issues for both students. Because of the number of kicks involved, the students’ comfort and trust in their partners become even more important.

Spending more time on #1 through #3 goes a long way toward preparing students for those challenges. They become more comfortable moving together, more confident in the sequence, and more capable of controlling their techniques.

The goal of the first group lesson is not to see how much Kumite you can cover.

The goal is to give the students enough understanding to practice safely, enough success to enjoy the exercise, and enough curiosity to want to continue learning.

One of the most important skills an instructor can develop is the ability to answer questions clearly without accidentally closing a door.

In the world of martial arts, there are loads of incorrect answers to questions. There are answers that are unsafe, answers that ignore the standard, answers that skip important steps, and answers that can lead a student in the wrong direction.

But there are also many correct answers, or - more specifically, several interpretations to the same concepts.

Many times, especially when answering a student’s question, there may be several answers that are all technically correct. The better question is: which correct answer helps this student move forward?

That is where teaching becomes more than just knowing information.

It becomes leadership.

When a student asks you a question, sometimes it is easier to be vague.

Don’t.

That student is asking you a question. Whether they know it or not, they are usually looking for three things.

• They want to know your version of the answer.

• They want to know if you will be truthful with them.

• They want to know how open-minded you are.

How you answer goes a long way toward showing them all three.

This is not a new concept. Many institutions and governing bodies have always placed a high value on truthful answers. In a court of law, a person is not simply encouraged to tell the truth. They are placed under oath. If they knowingly give false testimony about something that matters, it can become perjury.

In the Marine Corps, and in military leadership in general, honesty is also not treated as a small thing. Honor is not just a word on a poster. Leaders are expected to be truthful because trust is tied directly to responsibility, command, and the ability to lead others. If an officer is caught lying, that can have serious consequences for that officer’s commission, career, and ability to lead.

Why does that matter to us in the dojo?

Because instructors are leaders too.

No, we are not judges. We are not attorneys. We are not commanding officers. But we are still in positions of trust. Students trust us. Parents trust us. New instructors trust us. When someone asks us a question, they are giving us a small piece of that trust. That is important to treat seriously.

A student’s question is not just a request for information. It is also a test of the relationship. The student may not realize that, but it is true.

If a student asks, “Why do we do it this way?” they may be asking about a block, a stance, a strike, a kata movement, or a kumite drill. On the surface, it may seem like they are only asking for technical information. But underneath that question, they are also learning about you.

• They are learning whether you can explain what you teach.

• They are learning whether you are willing to give them a real answer.

• They are learning whether you are secure enough to recognize that another good instructor may explain the same thing differently.

That does not mean we should give weak answers. It does not mean every answer is equally good. It does not mean we avoid taking a position.

Actually, it means the opposite, because students benefit tremendously from clear answers.

A vague answer can sound safe, but it often does not help the student. Saying, “Well, there are many ways to look at it,” may be true, but it is not always useful by itself. The student did not ask for every possible answer. The student asked you.

So give your answer. At the same time, there are a few things an instructor can frame the beginning of an answer to put themselves in an ideal situation when answering a question. You might start with:

• “This is how I like to do it…”

• “For right now, I believe the best way is…”

• “At your level, this is what I want you to focus on…”

• “For what we are working on today, this is the most important part…”

Those phrases go a long way. They do not make the answer weak. They make the answer properly placed.

There is a big difference between saying:

“This is the way it is done.”

and saying:

“Today, this is how we are working on it.”

The first answer can accidentally close the door. It may also create a problem later if another qualified instructor explains the same idea from a different point of view.

The second answer still gives the student direction, but it also leaves room for later reinterpretation.

That is not being vague. Being vague would be saying, “Well, there are a lot of ways to do it,” and then never actually answering the question.

Framing the answer is different. It says to the student, “I am going to answer you clearly, but I am also going to be honest that this answer belongs to this moment, this level, this drill, and this way of looking at the material.”

That puts the student, the teacher, and even - to a lesser extent - the dojo in the best possible position.  The student gets a clear answer. The instructor gives truthful direction. And other qualified instructors are not unnecessarily contradicted.

That is the balance.

Clear as mud, right?

But this is exactly where good teaching happens. Good teaching tells the student, “I am going to be truthful with you. I am going to give you direction. I am not going to pretend there are no other perspectives. But I am also not going to leave you floating without an answer.” That is what students need.

• They need clarity without arrogance.

• They need honesty without discouragement.

• They need direction without the door being slammed shut.

A strong instructor can say, “This is my answer,” while still leaving room for, “and as you grow, you may learn another layer.”

The words we choose matter.

Answer the question. Do not hide behind vague language. Be honest. Keep the standard. Correct what is wrong. But also recognize that there may be more than one correct way to help a student understand.

Be careful not to unnecessarily contradict another instructor. Protect the student’s trust in the dojo. Protect the student’s respect for their teachers. Give your answer clearly, but leave room for another qualified instructor to add another layer.

Whenever possible, leave the student with a door still open and a path still visible.

That is how we help people keep going.

ONE-ON-ONE FOR THE FIRST TIME

The principles used when teaching kata one-on-one for the first time also work well when teaching almost any part of the curriculum. There are, however, a few additional notes I would add when working with someone on kumite.

For this example, we will use Kyu Kumite as the model.

When introducing Kyu Kumite, I strongly recommend having the student practice the attack side-by-side with you, using an “invisible opponent,” at least three times.

Always have the student practice the attack first. Moving forward is easier than moving backward. Attacking is also usually easier for a new student to understand than defending. Yes, I would have the student attack you three times before switching roles and working on the defense.

Depending on the student’s comfort level, you have two good options.

You can walk through the defense side-by-side first.

Or, after they have practiced attacking you, you can go directly into you attacking them.

If you choose the second option, make sure the first round is done slowly. Remember, blocking is naturally harder than punching, and backing up is naturally harder than moving forward. By having them defend, you are asking them to do both at the same time.

Stop and repeat as many times as needed for the student’s comfort. Unless the class instructor has directly asked you to cover more, accomplishing more than Kyu Kumite #1 is never necessary. There will be plenty of time for more later.

For someone learning Kyu Kumite for the first time, never go further than #3.

This is not because #4 and #5 are unimportant. It is because #1 through #3 already give the student plenty to process. At this stage, the student is learning how to move with another person, how to judge distance, how to stay balanced while stepping backward, how to block with control, and how to respond without freezing. That is a lot.

Even if the student seems to “get it” quickly, that does not mean the material has settled into their body yet. A new student may be able to copy the movements in the moment, but they still need repetition before the movements become comfortable and reliable.

Kyu Kumite #4 and #5 are also very different from the first three exercises. They involve more kicking, which creates a new set of challenges. Kicks change the student’s balance, timing, distance, and comfort level. They also require a higher level of control and comfort from both partners.

Because of the number of kicks involved, the student must be comfortable with the person they are working with. That comfort does not usually happen in the first few minutes of learning kumite. It develops over time. The more time a student spends working through #1, #2, and #3, the more they begin to trust the process, trust their own movement, and trust their partner.

That trust matters.

A student who is nervous, off-balance, or unsure of the person in front of them will not learn well. They may become tense, hesitant, or overwhelmed. They may start to think of kumite as something they need to survive rather than something they are being taught to understand.

Kyu Kumite #1 through #3 are usually practiced for several months before continuing to #4 and #5. Those first three exercises build the foundation: rhythm, timing, distance, balance, confidence, control, and trust. Once those ideas are stronger, #4 and #5 will make much more sense.

Going too far too soon often creates confusion. It can also make the student feel rushed or unsafe. Our goal is not to overwhelm them. Our goal is to give them a successful first experience, build confidence, and leave them ready for the next lesson.

There will be plenty of time for more later.

Marcus Traynor

ONE-ON-ONE FOR THE FIRST TIME

When talking about teaching kata, I like to use Kanshiwa as the model. The chances of a new instructor teaching a beginner student Sanchin for the first time are remote. That responsibility is usually handled by a more experienced instructor. Kanshiwa, however, is often the first kata a newer instructor may be asked to help a student learn.

Students learning Kanshiwa for the first time usually have three common attributes.

They are nervous.

They have very little knowledge of Uechiryu. Yes, you may have a student who has studied another style, but his or her knowledge of our style will still be limited.

Their Sanchin will be limited at best. Even if they are able to go through the whole kata, their footwork, body posture, and hand position will still be in the early stages of development.

That last point is important. When teaching Kanshiwa for the first time, you are not only teaching a new kata. You are also reinforcing the basic ideas of Sanchin: posture, stepping, turning, hand position, balance, and focus. The student is not ready for every detail yet. The goal is to help the student take the next successful step.

With that in mind, here is the approach I recommend the most.

First, start by talking to your student about themselves. Remember, people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. Asking them how they have been enjoying their training, or what questions they may have, is a good way to start any training session. However, do not let this go too long. In my experience, anything longer than a minute usually gets people too far off track.

From there, make the purpose of the lesson clear. A student should know what they are trying to accomplish. They should also know that they are not expected to master the whole kata in one lesson.

Now would be a good time to employ two of my favorite teaching methods: D-E-C-R and the Three Times Rule.

D-E-C-R stands for Demonstration, Explanation, Correction, and Repetition.

Start with a quick explanation:

“So today we’re going to work on your second kata. It is called Kanshiwa. This kata shows a slightly more practical way of utilizing Sanchin. I’ll show it to you very quickly, and then we’ll get started.”

Proceed with a quick demonstration of the whole kata. To save time, include a short explanation with each move, but do not let the demonstration last more than a minute. It is very easy to make a new student more nervous than they already are. A long explanation may impress them, but it probably will not help them.

Once the demonstration and explanation are done, put the student’s fears at ease by saying:

“That is the whole thing. Today we’re just going to work on the first six moves.”

To anyone, learning six moves feels a lot easier than learning an entire sequence.

From here, I recommend standing to the left of the student. Since the first movement in Kanshiwa involves the student pivoting to the left, you can do the kata side-by-side with the student and stay in their view. This matters. When a beginner is learning, they are usually trying to copy your movement, listen to your words, remember the sequence, and manage their nerves all at the same time. Standing in the right place makes their job easier.

Now we employ the Three Times Rule.

Guide the student through the kata and stop at the third punch.

That’s right. Stop right there.

Unless the student is the next Kanei Uechi, you have already given them enough information. Ask if they have any quick questions, then reset. Start the kata again from the beginning.

Guide the student through the kata and stop at the third punch.

That’s right. Again.

Reset and begin the kata for the third time. This time, continue through the two side kicks. The side kicks are more complicated than the punches, but now that the student feels more comfortable with the punching sequence, their mind is more prepared for the next challenge.

Repeat this another two times, then move into the horse stance sequence. After another repetition or two, depending on the situation, it may be helpful to have them go through the whole kata once. However, make it clear that the purpose is to give the student a sense of continuity, not to memorize the entire kata that day.

At the time of your choosing, or based on your comfort level, you may opt to stay side-by-side with the student or move in front of them. I usually recommend staying side-by-side until the student has gone through the side kicks at least once. After that, moving in front may help you see their posture, direction, and hand position more clearly.

A very important reminder: do not over-correct.

A beginner does not need ten corrections at once. They need the right correction at the right time. In the first lesson, I usually recommend focusing on sequence, direction, and basic posture. If they turn the right way, step reasonably well, and remember the general order, that is a successful first lesson.

There will be plenty of time later to clean up the height of the hands, the angle of the elbows, the quality of the stance, the timing of the turn, and the details of the strike. If you try to fix everything on day one, the student may leave feeling like they failed. If you give them a clear path forward, they leave feeling like they are learning.

That is the real goal.

The beauty of teaching kata this way is that your student should be able to go home and remember the first three punches. Think about it. If you followed the sequence correctly, the student will have gone through the punching portion several times. They have seen it, heard it, practiced it, corrected it, and repeated it.

That gives the student something to sink their teeth into at home. It also gives you something solid to build on the next time they come down.

The first time teaching a kata is not about perfection. It is about confidence, structure, and progress. If the student leaves knowing more than when they walked in, feeling good about the process, and wanting to come back and learn more, you accomplished something spectacular.

Marcus Traynor

Years ago, I visited a dojo to participate in a special training class. It was not a Uechi dojo, and it was not a school we were immediately associated with, but it was a nice place with nice people. As is my usual habit, I arrived a bit early and had the opportunity to watch a junior class already in progress.

The instructors and students were friendly, welcoming, and full of positive energy. The class was active and functional. Parents were seated in chairs along the side of the room. Training bags were placed on the floor. None of this was wrong. Parents need a place to sit. Equipment needs a place to go. A dojo has practical needs.

But the moment that stayed with me was watching one of the instructors take a bite of his salad between drills.

Again, none of this was terrible. People need to eat. People are busy. Life happens. But in that moment, I noticed that the flow of the room was not completely focused on karate.

The word dojo is often translated as “Way Place,” or “place to learn the way.” For us, that means a place to learn the way of karate. It is not just a room where we exercise. It is not just a place where we learn punches, kicks, blocks, kata, and self-defense. It is a place where we step away from the noise of the day, clear our minds, train our bodies, challenge our attitudes, and return home better than when we entered.

That makes the dojo a special space.

In many ways, it is a sacred space.

So, how does a dojo become sacred?

All dojos are made from ordinary things. Walls. A floor. A roof. Lights. Mats. Mirrors. Equipment. In that sense, a dojo is not so different from any other room. We wear special uniforms, but many people wear uniforms in many different activities. We bow, line up, train, and follow certain traditions, but those things alone are not what make the dojo special.

The answer lies in the practitioners.

We treat the dojo as special, and therefore it becomes special.

Like so many things in karate, it begins with a bow.

We bow when we enter the dojo. In doing so, we acknowledge that we are stepping into a place with a different purpose. We are leaving behind, at least for a little while, the distractions and frustrations of the outside world. We are choosing to be present. We are choosing to train.

We bow to our instructors and seniors, not as an empty ritual, but as an expression of respect for the time, effort, and experience they are willing to share.

We bow to our training partners because they are helping us grow. Every partner who stands across from us gives us an opportunity. They allow us to test ourselves, refine ourselves, and learn something about our technique, our attitude, and our control. They are “bothering” to work with us, and that deserves appreciation.

We also bow to remind ourselves that we are entering the dojo with humility. Every one of us has challenges. Every one of us has habits that need improvement. Every one of us has something to learn.

Through the bow, we treat the dojo with respect. We treat others with respect. We treat ourselves with respect.

As instructors, this is especially important.

Students learn from what we say, but they learn even more from what we allow. If the dojo feels casual, distracted, cluttered, or unfocused, then students will begin to treat it that way. If the instructors treat the dojo like any other room, the students will do the same.

But if the instructors treat the dojo as a place of purpose, students will feel that too.

This does not mean the dojo must be cold, harsh, or overly serious. A good dojo should have warmth. It should have humor. It should have friendship, encouragement, and community. Students should enjoy being there. Parents should feel welcome. Instructors should be approachable.

But the main purpose of the dojo must remain clear.

The dojo is a Sacred Space where people train in the Martial Arts, with all that implies.

That focus can be weakened by small things. Food in the training area. Bags scattered across the floor. Side conversations during class. Money discussions in the middle of the room. Instructors casually checking phones. Students wandering in and out without bowing or awareness. None of these things may seem like a major problem by themselves, but together they change the feeling of the space.

They tell everyone, silently, that the dojo is just another room.

As instructors, we should regularly look at the dojo with fresh eyes. Look at it when it is empty. Look at it when class is running. Look at it from the perspective of a new student, a parent, a visitor, and a senior practitioner.

Ask yourself:

• Does this space feel focused?

• Does it feel respectful?

• Does it feel organized?

• Does it help students understand that what we do here matters?

• Does my behavior as an instructor enhance the sacred space, or does it weaken it?

There are no perfect rules for every dojo. Every school has different needs. Some spaces are shared. Some are small. Some have limited storage. Some have parents close by. Some instructors come straight from work and are managing busy schedules. We should be practical and realistic.

But “practical” should not become an excuse for lack of focus.

A dojo becomes sacred through repeated acts of respect. Bowing when we enter. Keeping the space clean. Wearing the uniform properly. Speaking with purpose. Training with sincerity. Supporting our partners. Setting aside distractions. Making the room feel like karate is the reason we are there.

The more the dojo is treated as being about karate, the more students will understand that karate is worth treating seriously.

Creating the sacred space is not something we do once. It is something we do every class.

Preserving it requires awareness.

Enhancing it requires leadership.

And that leadership begins with the instructors.

Sempai David W. Kelley brings a rare combination of martial arts experience, public-service leadership, and real-world command responsibility to this week’s training seminar. A Kudan (9th Degree Black Belt) in Uechi-Ryu Karate and a senior student of Buzz Durkin’s Karate School, Kelley began his Uechi training in 1974 and has long been recognized for applying both the soft and hard aspects of Uechi in a practical, disciplined way. His perspective on leadership is shaped not only by decades of training on the dojo floor, but also by a career spent making decisions in demanding environments where composure, accountability, and example matter.

Professionally, Mr. Kelley continues to live a life of service to the people of New Hampshire through work in several fields. Among the most notable chapters of that service was his 25-year career with the New Hampshire State Police, from which he retired in 2007 at the rank of Major. During his time with the State Police, he held significant leadership responsibilities, including command of the Investigative Services Bureau and oversight of specialized investigative teams. Taken together, his experience as a senior karate practitioner and law enforcement leader makes him especially well suited to speak on leadership grounded in service, discipline, and responsibility.

The rules of Ikigai

• Stay active, don’t retire. Never stop doing what you love. Your purpose should continue throughout your life.

• Take it slow. Being in a hurry is inversely proportional to quality of life. As the old saying goes, “Walk slowly and you’ll go far.”

• Don’t fill your stomach. Follow the Hara Hachi Bu, or 80% rule. Stop eating when you are almost full to maintain energy and longevity.

• Surround yourself with good friends. Build your Moai, or social support group. Friendships are the best medicine for the soul.

• Smile. A cheerful attitude makes you and others happy. Acknowledge the things that aren’t perfect, but don’t forget the privilege of being here.

• Reconnect with nature. Human beings are made to be part of the natural world. Return to it frequently to recharge your batteries.

• Give thanks. To your ancestors, to nature, and to your community. Gratitude is a practice that brightens your days.

• Live in the moment. Stop regretting the past or fearing the future. Today is all you have. Make the most of it.

• Get in shape. Your body needs daily maintenance to keep it running well. Water flows best when it is moving; so does your health.

• Follow your Ikigai. There is a unique talent inside you that gives meaning to your days. If you haven’t found it yet, make it your mission to find it.

We work hard at what we do.

Work, family, dojo — it is a delicate balance, and it is something we all have to constantly adjust. While that balance can be rewarding, it can also be frustrating and draining at times.

When we become frustrated or drained, our ability to balance those responsibilities can get a little haywire. We start trying to fix everything at once. We see every unfinished task, every loose end, every problem that still needs attention. Before long, we are stretched thin, and the things that matter most can suffer because we are trying to handle too much at the same time.

So here is a mental strategy:

Remember the role you have.

Commonly, people say, “It is my job,” as a way of avoiding responsibility for what is happening around them. That is not the concept here.

This is not about avoiding responsibility.

This is about focus.

Remember the role you have when your spouse is out of town and you are in charge of making sure the kids get fed, get to school on time, and make it to their activities. Maybe the floors did not get cleaned. Maybe that would have been ideal. But in that moment, your role was to make sure everyone got where they needed to go, that the kids were cared for, and that the household kept moving.

Yes, the floors may need to be cleaned. But not at the expense of getting the kids to soccer practice on time. Not at the expense of having the mental energy to help them stay calm before school. Not at the expense of the priority that mattered most in that moment.

“Remember the role you have” is a way of reminding yourself not to try to fix everything all at once. It is a way to concentrate your effort on doing your current task well.

The same is true in the dojo.

If you are running a class, you have a role. If you are assisting in a class, you also have a role. Those roles may overlap, but they have different priorities. And make no mistake about it: the role of an assistant is just as important to the student as the role of the person running the class.

The instructor leading the class may be responsible for the overall direction, pacing, and structure. The assistant may be responsible for helping students stay on task, correcting details, encouraging someone who is struggling, or making sure a student receives attention at the right moment. Both roles matter. Both affect the quality of the class. Both serve the students.

Problems happen when we forget our role and try to do everything.

We all like to help. Many of us push ourselves hard, and that is not a bad thing. We should be in the habit of pushing ourselves. We should be willing to work, serve, assist, lead, and support the people around us.

But we also have to be mindful.

Being mindful of your role in the environment helps you remember where your priorities are. It helps you avoid extending yourself so far that you lose sight of the task that actually needed your attention.

Remember the role you have and strive to do it well.

Support others where you can.

But do not let the desire to do everything keep you from doing the most important thing well.

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Hey guys,

A new challenge for this week:

I’d like each of you to take this 16Personalities  test, and we’ll discuss the results during our instructor meeting on today (Tuesday).

While this is hardly the “end-all-be-all” when it comes to psychological profiling, I have found that personality tests like this help develop my own understanding of how different personality types behave in certain circumstances.

If you were to a work with a student with not-so-great upper body strength, you know repetitive pushups are going to be very draining, yes? How about the number of times you call a person out during class? Whether it is postiive or negative, for some people that is amazingly draining and for others it is a breath of fresh air!

People differ in how they may think, communicate, react under stress, and process information. Understanding those differences can help us become more effective instructors, better communicators, and more patient with both our students and each other.

Sometimes what looks like stubbornness, hesitation, overthinking, or even disinterest is simply someone processing information differently than we do. The more aware we are of that, the better we can teach and lead.

I have taken this test multiple times and am usually an ENTJ, but this past time I am an INFJ-T

As an INFJ (Advocate), you possess a unique combination of idealism and insight that sets you apart in today’s world. Your rich inner life is characterized by complex emotions, vivid imagination, and a deep well of empathy that allows you to connect with others on a profound level. You have an unwavering commitment to your principles and an intense desire to make a positive impact on the world around you.

Your natural ability to understand and interpret the feelings and motivations of others is both a gift and a challenge. While it enables you to form deep, meaningful connections and offer invaluable support to those around you, it can also leave you feeling overwhelmed by the emotions and needs of others. You often find yourself torn between your desire to help and your need for privacy and solitude.

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Years ago, my brother was helping put a friend’s baby to sleep.

The baby was fussy, restless, and not at all interested in cooperating with the plan. My brother, however, was calm. He walked. He talked softly. He kept moving. He stayed kind. He did not get frustrated. He did not take it personally. He simply stayed with the process until the baby finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

Later, he joked that the best way to get a baby to sleep is to prove that you are more stubborn than they are.

There is a lot of wisdom in that.

Sometimes the best strategy is not to overpower someone. Sometimes it is not to win quickly. Sometimes the best strategy is simply to outlast the moment.

This is as true in a boxing ring as it is in self-defense. And it is definitely has its place when working with students.

In the self-defense world, the value of outlasting your opponent is obvious. If you are still standing when the danger is over, you get to go home. That is a pretty good outcome.

But in the teaching world, there is a similar battle going on. It may not look like a fight. There may not be punches thrown. There may not be a bell ringing at the end of each round. But there is often still a test happening.

Students come to us with challenges.

Some are nervous. Some are angry. Some are insecure. Some are distracted. Some are afraid to fail. Some have been told they are not good at things. Some have learned that adults give up on them. Some of those people have turned into adults with the same thought process! Some have learned that if they push hard enough, people will back away.

The challenges vary in intensity and direction, but one thing is common:

Before any student will truly learn from you, that student needs to trust you.

And trust is not built by one good speech.

Trust is built over time.

That means students will sometimes put roadblocks in the way. They may push your buttons. They may test your patience. They may look for the moment when you are about to crack. They may resist instruction, ignore correction, act silly, shut down, or challenge your authority.

Here is the fun part; they are doing this because they want to believe in you!

If they had already decided you were not worth trusting, they would not bother testing you.

Think about it this way: do you carefully examine milk that you are already convinced is sour, or do you just throw it away?

When a student tests you, it means they are still checking. They are asking questions without saying them out loud.

“Are you really here to help me?”

“Will you still be kind when I mess up?”

“Will you still teach me when I am difficult?”

“Will you give up on me?”

“Can I trust you?”

That does not mean we let students do whatever they want. It does not mean we ignore bad behavior. It does not mean we abandon standards. In fact, the opposite is true.

Part of being trustworthy is being consistent.

We respond with kindness. We respond with correction. We respond with structure. We respond with instruction that helps them get better at punching, kicking, moving, listening, and controlling themselves.

We also respond with patience.

Not lazy patience. Not weak patience. Real patience.

The kind of patience that says, “I am still here. I am still going to help you. I am still going to expect your best. And I am not going to fall apart just because this is taking time.”

That is a powerful message, but it is one that they may never have heard.

But they have been looking for!

Instructors sometimes feel like every class needs to produce immediate progress. We want the student to get the technique today. We want the attitude to improve today. We want the behavior to change today.

Sometimes it does.

Sometimes it does not.

But the bigger test is time.

How long will we as instructors stay devoted to the student’s success?

Are you willing to go the distance?

A boxer who panics in the first round may never make it to the later rounds where the fight can be won. An instructor who gets discouraged too quickly may never see the breakthrough that was just around the corner.

Some students need to see that you are not easily shaken.

They need to see that your kindness is not fragile.

They need to see that your standards do not disappear when they complain.

They need to see that your confidence in them is stronger than their doubt in themselves.

That is where the instructor has to be, in the best sense of the word, stubborn.

Stubborn about helping.

Stubborn about caring.

Stubborn about holding the line.

Stubborn about believing that the student can improve, even when the student is not yet sure of it.

Just like my brother walking calmly with that fussy baby, part of our duty is to stay steady long enough for the student to settle. Long enough for the student to trust. Long enough for the student to realize we are not their enemy.

We are their coach.

We are their guide.

We are on their side.

And when they finally understand that, learning becomes much easier.

So the next time a student tests you, try not to see it only as resistance. It may also be an invitation.

They may be asking, “Are you strong enough, patient enough, and committed enough to help me get better?”

Our answer should be clear.

Yes - I am more stubborn about your success than you are!!!

Black Belt testing is a big day for most students.

It’s a day they’ve been thinking about for years—but also a day many of them once believed would never actually happen.

Because that’s the reality of martial arts.

When students first walk through the door, they’re not confident. They’re not skilled. They’re not polished.

They’re uncomfortable.

They struggle.

They feel like they don’t belong.

And yet… they show up and step onto the floor anyway.

That decision—to begin—is important.

But it’s not the most important one.

The most important decision is the one they make over and over again afterward.

Because the path is never smooth.

There are school schedules, sports, injuries, and life changes. Motivation rises and falls. Priorities shift. And sometimes, everything gets turned upside down all at once.

We’ve all seen it.

Some students drift away.

Some stop altogether.

And some… find a way to keep showing up.

Those are the ones who understand something deeper about training.

It’s not about being the most talented.

It’s not about getting everything right.

It’s about consistency.

It’s about showing up when it’s inconvenient.

Showing up when it’s uncomfortable.

Showing up when it would be easier not to.

And over time, that consistency turns into something powerful.

Skill, yes—but more importantly, confidence, resilience, and belief.

That’s what makes an event like Black Belt Testing meaningful.

Testing isn’t just about demonstrating techniques. It’s about standing in front of others and saying,

“I’ve put in the work. I didn’t quit. I’m still here.”

That takes courage.

And it’s something that carries far beyond the dojo.

The same persistence that helps a student earn their next rank is the same persistence that helps them navigate school, work, relationships, and challenges in life.

It’s the ability to keep moving forward—even when things get difficult.

So Black Belt Testing isn’t just a qualification event.

It’s a celebration of a student’s ability to show up.

Results are important—but the process is what sustains it.

Not just the performance, but the perseverance.

Because in the end, that’s what matters most.

They showed up.

It is not a phrase I made up, but it fits perfectly in our world. Really, it fits in everyone’s world.

As seasoned martial artists, we are perfectionists at heart. We almost have to be. Otherwise, we would not have made it as far as we have. That passion for scrutiny is what drives excellence to keep climbing.

As teachers this focus on detail, combined with our caring and compassion, becomes a powerful tool. This is what draws students to us for guidance and support.

That often awakens a natural nurturing instinct in us. At times, it can even become a coddling mentality. In the beginning, some of that is necessary. Students need help developing the basic skills they can lean on. They need encouragement, correction, and support. That is an important stage of training, and naturally we want to help them reach their goals faster than we reached ours. That, by itself, is a very positive mentality.

But eventually, there comes a phase where we have to let the students off the leash.

Everything can sound good in theory, but putting it into practice is where the stress, uncertainty, and problem-solving begin to shape training into something functional. While we never truly “release students into the wild,” it is still very healthy for them to feel that they have to prove their mettle and perform at the level they believe they are capable of.

Obviously, tournaments and black belt testings are some of the best examples of this. Even though the students are performing unassisted, it is still a controlled environment.

But we do not have to wait for the big moments. There are plenty of smaller opportunities to give students that same experience.

Some are obvious. Demonstrating in front of the class or going through a kyu testing can create that kind of pressure and reveal what is really there. But there are other opportunities that are more subtle.

For example, if we have a chance to attend a cross-training class with an instructor from another dojo or even another style, encouraging the appropriate student to participate can have a powerful effect. It asks them to step outside what is familiar and rely on what they truly know.

The same can happen within a normal class. Letting students rotate partners during an intense drill and keeping the drill going for several minutes can force their brains to work under pressure. Often, that is when they begin to realize the true value of what they have been taught.

In an ideal world, after going through that kind of experience, the student comes back to you quickly and asks for advice on how to move forward.

That is a fantastic teaching moment.

Because in order to grow, they have to be supported. But in order to truly grow, they also have to be let go.

We’ve all heard some version of this before.

Older generations tend to emphasize fundamentals—sometimes to the point of sounding like a broken record. Younger generations, on the other hand, are drawn to what’s new, flashy, and exciting. And each side critiques the other: one is “stuck in the past,” the other is “missing the point.”

Never heard that before, right?

You see it clearly in martial arts. Senior students talk about Sanchin, structure, and repetition. Junior students want spinning kicks, jumping techniques, and anything that looks impressive. It’s easy to take sides—but the truth is, progress depends on both.

If a student spent ten years working only on front kicks, cross blocks, and palm heel strikes, they would likely become very capable if someone tried to mess with them. Their foundation would be solid. But would they stay curious? Would their mind remain open to new ideas that could enhance their ability?

On the flip side, if a student only chased what excited them—constantly jumping from one flashy technique to the next—would anything ever become reliable? When pressure hits, would there be anything solid enough to fall back on?

The basics are what hold up under pressure. They are what show up when things get difficult, when timing is off, when adrenaline kicks in. They are dependable.

But the “exaggerations”—the more fun techniques, the creative movements, the things that spark interest—are what keep people engaged long enough to develop strong basics in the first place.

Without fundamentals, there is no substance.

Without excitement, there is no longevity.

Good training—and good teaching—lives in the space between the two. The ideal student is someone who appreciates the basics enough to continually train them, while staying excited about challenges that push their focus and creativity.

So how do we inspire that?

We build classes that do both—and, more importantly, connect the two. 

The possibilities are endless, but you’ve seen them before.

Sanchin stepping is a time-honored practice that builds immense power and stability, keeping a person rooted to the ground. And yet, we constantly show how that same stepping can transition into curved movement and effective takedowns.

When we find creative ways to teach the basics, we keep students engaged while reinforcing what matters most. Their eyes stay open to new ideas and concepts, while their foundation continues to grow stronger.

And someday, that combination—interest and repetition, creativity and discipline—becomes the thing that’s there when they truly need it.

As black belt candidates move from the training and preview phase into performance review, it is important that we, as instructors, "turn the heat up."

A black belt is not the end-all of martial arts. It is not a declaration of mastery. It is a symbol — of effort and enthusiasm fused together under the heat of persistence. It represents someone who has stayed the course long enough to begin understanding what benefits of training are truly about.

Throughout their journey, students are exposed to countless ideas, theories, and training methods. Classes are filled with learning, experimentation, and, yes, a good amount of fun. They are given tools — physical, mental, and emotional — to explore and develop. 

And with a little bit of luck, they may never need to use those tools in a real-world self-defense situation.

That is exactly why black belt testing matters. If life does not provide the pressure, we must.

In cooking, raw ingredients only become a meal when heat is applied. Without it, nothing changes. In life, the same principle holds true. A teenager may understand — in theory — the importance of responsibility. But it is not until they are on their own, managing their space, doing their laundry, and facing real consequences that the lesson truly takes hold.

Enlightenment - light - without transformation - heat - doesn't make lasting results.

However, it is the enlightenment that brings meaning to the heat needed for the transformation. 

A student going through rigorous Sanchin testing will shut down — or reject the process entirely — if they do not understand its deeper purpose. Done correctly, the instructor is not trying to punish the student. They are trying to refine them. To hone them. If the student understands that, something important happens.

They come back.

Not because they have to — but because they want what the training is trying to give them.

This is where trust and enlightenment become essential. That understanding allows the student to accept the heat as a necessary tool for the transformation.

During this time of year, we are in the middle of the black belt testing process. This process has been refined over decades of trial and error. 

And rest assured, it is still evolving.

The special training classes held throughout the association — including sessions at the Atkinson dojo with instructors like Neil Stone, David Kelley, and Leyn Burrows — play a critical role in building that understanding. They provide clarity. They show candidates what to improve and how to move forward.

They provide the enlightenment.

The heat comes when the candidate stands in front of the panel at preview — when the judges break things down, expose weaknesses, and hold the student to a higher standard.

This moment must be handled with precision.

Just as a roast will burn if the oven is too hot, psychological pressure must be carefully measured. The combined influence of the judges and the student’s Sensei must be deliberate, controlled, and purposeful. Too little heat, and nothing changes. Too much, and the student shuts down.

The goal is transformation — not destruction.

Everything that happens between preview and review is where that transformation takes place. And that is exactly where we are right now.

If the process is handled correctly AND the student embraces it with the right mindset — something powerful happens.

A shift.

Not just in skill, but in character. In awareness. In presence.

The student who walks into the preview is not the same person who walks into the review.

Light helps them understand the path.

But it is the heat that moves them down it.