When stepping forward using zenkutsudachi (front stance, see August 2000 article), should we be pushing off the back leg? Or should we be pulling from the front leg? Or should we be doing a combination of both? Some people have some very strong opinions on this push/pull relationship, while others have not thought about it much, if at all.
Let's try some experiments to isolate the push and pull and look at their relationship.
Facing a wall with your front foot about 12-18 inches from the wall, push against the wall with your arms while in front stance and lift the front leg (this position also used in article on alignment, from March 1998). Notice that the forward thrust is essentially the same without the use of the front leg. The primary use of the front leg seems to be that of brake. Now, lift the back leg and push. There is probably not much forward thrust, if anything. In fact, you may find yourself falling back unless the weight of the body is shifted forward. This indicates that, at least in a stationary front stance, the back leg's forward drive is important and may be used as a major force for propulsion forward during stepping as well.
Next, stand away from the wall in front stance and, lifting the back foot slightly for a moment, move your weight forward and step to the front. Notice how much you "pull" with the front leg when stepping. (In precise biomechanics terms, "pull" is not entirely accurate, but is a good conceptual term.) If you practice this for a while, you can see that active involvement of the muscles of the front leg can provide a definite improvement in the speed of forward movement of the body during stepping.
Considering the above two experiments, it seems that there must be some pushing and some pulling involved in the forward stepping motion during front stance movements, or at least there should be during most situations. The question still remains, however, as to how much of each is involved.
One of the primary determining factors in figuring out the relationship between pushing and pulling is the distribution of weight forward/back. Try the second experiment again if you have any doubts. Try it with the weight further back that usual and then further forward and see which seems to utilize more of the pull necessary for this movement.
So, the pull seems to be a larger contributing factor the further forward the weight is distributed toward the front, right? Well, not necessarily. . . There comes a time when the use of the front leg is not as a "pull" as much as it is a "push."
Consider the sprinter. While a marathon runner starts from a standing position, a short-distance runner really relies on the initial thrust off the starting blocks. Not just low to the ground, the sprinter also starts with his feet on blocks against which he pushes forward to gain initial momentum forward. While the use of both legs is employed, the role of the front leg is probably more of a push than a pull. That this is more of a "push" than a "pull" is partially related to the fact that the sprinter has blocks off of which to push. In comparison, the karateka has just the floor off of which to push, which is not at such an advantageous angle in relation to the direction of movement. In addition, we should consider that the sprinter starts with the weight situated relatively far forward, more so than many karateka's front stances.
So, the further forward the weight is situated, generally speaking, the more of a part the front foot plays in moving the body forward. While the weight is behind the front foot, this can be considered a "pull." After the weight passes in front of the front foot (soon to become the back foot), the function shifts to that of "push." The push off the back leg (cannot be considered a "pull" any way you look at it while stepping forward) may be significant-actually likely the most significant part- but lasts for only a brief moment before the front leg takes over.
Also affecting the contribution of the back leg's push is the amount of flexion in the leg. If the back leg is perfectly straight, very little force can be applied by that leg. When straight, that leg depends solely on the muscles of the ankle and foot for forward thrust unless that leg is momentarily bent before the forward movement, which of course takes valuable time. It might also give away the intention of movement to the opponent and have other detrimental effects.
This relationship of push/pull depending on weight distribution applies to other stances and stepping types as well. When stepping back in front stance, the front leg pushes back to a very high degree, while the back leg "pulls," at least at the outset of the movement. When stepping forward in back stance (kokutsudachi, see October 2000 article), the back leg definitely provides the majority of forward thrust. While stepping back in back stance, the back leg pulls and the front leg's push is minimal, at least when performed according to proper Shotokan basic form.
In summary, both pushing and pulling forces occur while stepping, but sometimes significantly more of one than the other. Furthermore, what we think we are doing and what we are actually doing may differ greatly. I would hope that everyone will want to individually examine how the push and pull of the legs are utilized (or should be utilized) when stepping and how this relationship is affected by weight distribution and leg flexion. By better understanding these points, you should be able to make better use of the various forces involved while training.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Saturday, December 1, 2001
Push or Pull?
When stepping forward using zenkutsudachi (front stance, see August 2000 article), should we be pushing off the back leg? Or should we be pulling from the front leg? Or should we be doing a combination of both? Some people have some very strong opinions on this push/pull relationship, while others have not thought about it much, if at all.
Let's try some experiments to isolate the push and pull and look at their relationship.
Facing a wall with your front foot about 12-18 inches from the wall, push against the wall with your arms while in front stance and lift the front leg (this position also used in article on alignment, from March 1998). Notice that the forward thrust is essentially the same without the use of the front leg. The primary use of the front leg seems to be that of brake. Now, lift the back leg and push. There is probably not much forward thrust, if anything. In fact, you may find yourself falling back unless the weight of the body is shifted forward. This indicates that, at least in a stationary front stance, the back leg's forward drive is important and may be used as a major force for propulsion forward during stepping as well.
Next, stand away from the wall in front stance and, lifting the back foot slightly for a moment, move your weight forward and step to the front. Notice how much you "pull" with the front leg when stepping. (In precise biomechanics terms, "pull" is not entirely accurate, but is a good conceptual term.) If you practice this for a while, you can see that active involvement of the muscles of the front leg can provide a definite improvement in the speed of forward movement of the body during stepping.
Considering the above two experiments, it seems that there must be some pushing and some pulling involved in the forward stepping motion during front stance movements, or at least there should be during most situations. The question still remains, however, as to how much of each is involved.
One of the primary determining factors in figuring out the relationship between pushing and pulling is the distribution of weight forward/back. Try the second experiment again if you have any doubts. Try it with the weight further back that usual and then further forward and see which seems to utilize more of the pull necessary for this movement.
So, the pull seems to be a larger contributing factor the further forward the weight is distributed toward the front, right? Well, not necessarily. . . There comes a time when the use of the front leg is not as a "pull" as much as it is a "push."
Consider the sprinter. While a marathon runner starts from a standing position, a short-distance runner really relies on the initial thrust off the starting blocks. Not just low to the ground, the sprinter also starts with his feet on blocks against which he pushes forward to gain initial momentum forward. While the use of both legs is employed, the role of the front leg is probably more of a push than a pull. That this is more of a "push" than a "pull" is partially related to the fact that the sprinter has blocks off of which to push. In comparison, the karateka has just the floor off of which to push, which is not at such an advantageous angle in relation to the direction of movement. In addition, we should consider that the sprinter starts with the weight situated relatively far forward, more so than many karateka's front stances.
So, the further forward the weight is situated, generally speaking, the more of a part the front foot plays in moving the body forward. While the weight is behind the front foot, this can be considered a "pull." After the weight passes in front of the front foot (soon to become the back foot), the function shifts to that of "push." The push off the back leg (cannot be considered a "pull" any way you look at it while stepping forward) may be significant-actually likely the most significant part- but lasts for only a brief moment before the front leg takes over.
Also affecting the contribution of the back leg's push is the amount of flexion in the leg. If the back leg is perfectly straight, very little force can be applied by that leg. When straight, that leg depends solely on the muscles of the ankle and foot for forward thrust unless that leg is momentarily bent before the forward movement, which of course takes valuable time. It might also give away the intention of movement to the opponent and have other detrimental effects.
This relationship of push/pull depending on weight distribution applies to other stances and stepping types as well. When stepping back in front stance, the front leg pushes back to a very high degree, while the back leg "pulls," at least at the outset of the movement. When stepping forward in back stance (kokutsudachi, see October 2000 article), the back leg definitely provides the majority of forward thrust. While stepping back in back stance, the back leg pulls and the front leg's push is minimal, at least when performed according to proper Shotokan basic form.
In summary, both pushing and pulling forces occur while stepping, but sometimes significantly more of one than the other. Furthermore, what we think we are doing and what we are actually doing may differ greatly. I would hope that everyone will want to individually examine how the push and pull of the legs are utilized (or should be utilized) when stepping and how this relationship is affected by weight distribution and leg flexion. By better understanding these points, you should be able to make better use of the various forces involved while training.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Let's try some experiments to isolate the push and pull and look at their relationship.
Facing a wall with your front foot about 12-18 inches from the wall, push against the wall with your arms while in front stance and lift the front leg (this position also used in article on alignment, from March 1998). Notice that the forward thrust is essentially the same without the use of the front leg. The primary use of the front leg seems to be that of brake. Now, lift the back leg and push. There is probably not much forward thrust, if anything. In fact, you may find yourself falling back unless the weight of the body is shifted forward. This indicates that, at least in a stationary front stance, the back leg's forward drive is important and may be used as a major force for propulsion forward during stepping as well.
Next, stand away from the wall in front stance and, lifting the back foot slightly for a moment, move your weight forward and step to the front. Notice how much you "pull" with the front leg when stepping. (In precise biomechanics terms, "pull" is not entirely accurate, but is a good conceptual term.) If you practice this for a while, you can see that active involvement of the muscles of the front leg can provide a definite improvement in the speed of forward movement of the body during stepping.
Considering the above two experiments, it seems that there must be some pushing and some pulling involved in the forward stepping motion during front stance movements, or at least there should be during most situations. The question still remains, however, as to how much of each is involved.
One of the primary determining factors in figuring out the relationship between pushing and pulling is the distribution of weight forward/back. Try the second experiment again if you have any doubts. Try it with the weight further back that usual and then further forward and see which seems to utilize more of the pull necessary for this movement.
So, the pull seems to be a larger contributing factor the further forward the weight is distributed toward the front, right? Well, not necessarily. . . There comes a time when the use of the front leg is not as a "pull" as much as it is a "push."
Consider the sprinter. While a marathon runner starts from a standing position, a short-distance runner really relies on the initial thrust off the starting blocks. Not just low to the ground, the sprinter also starts with his feet on blocks against which he pushes forward to gain initial momentum forward. While the use of both legs is employed, the role of the front leg is probably more of a push than a pull. That this is more of a "push" than a "pull" is partially related to the fact that the sprinter has blocks off of which to push. In comparison, the karateka has just the floor off of which to push, which is not at such an advantageous angle in relation to the direction of movement. In addition, we should consider that the sprinter starts with the weight situated relatively far forward, more so than many karateka's front stances.
So, the further forward the weight is situated, generally speaking, the more of a part the front foot plays in moving the body forward. While the weight is behind the front foot, this can be considered a "pull." After the weight passes in front of the front foot (soon to become the back foot), the function shifts to that of "push." The push off the back leg (cannot be considered a "pull" any way you look at it while stepping forward) may be significant-actually likely the most significant part- but lasts for only a brief moment before the front leg takes over.
Also affecting the contribution of the back leg's push is the amount of flexion in the leg. If the back leg is perfectly straight, very little force can be applied by that leg. When straight, that leg depends solely on the muscles of the ankle and foot for forward thrust unless that leg is momentarily bent before the forward movement, which of course takes valuable time. It might also give away the intention of movement to the opponent and have other detrimental effects.
This relationship of push/pull depending on weight distribution applies to other stances and stepping types as well. When stepping back in front stance, the front leg pushes back to a very high degree, while the back leg "pulls," at least at the outset of the movement. When stepping forward in back stance (kokutsudachi, see October 2000 article), the back leg definitely provides the majority of forward thrust. While stepping back in back stance, the back leg pulls and the front leg's push is minimal, at least when performed according to proper Shotokan basic form.
In summary, both pushing and pulling forces occur while stepping, but sometimes significantly more of one than the other. Furthermore, what we think we are doing and what we are actually doing may differ greatly. I would hope that everyone will want to individually examine how the push and pull of the legs are utilized (or should be utilized) when stepping and how this relationship is affected by weight distribution and leg flexion. By better understanding these points, you should be able to make better use of the various forces involved while training.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Thursday, November 1, 2001
Teaching Different Types of People
Changing teaching methodology depending on the needs of the particular student type(s)
As with instructors of any type of subject, whether athletic or academic, martial arts instructors must keep the individual student in mind while teaching. Typically, teaching in Japan involves trying to fit everyone into the same mold. With this approach, some students are bound to achieve less than their potential while others are likely to quit in despair. This type of teaching may be good for those who happen to fit the mold. But how many people actually do? Although instructors of larger classes cannot tailor every minute of every class to each and every individual in it, they can often at least customize in general terms, depending on the general level(s) of participants in the class.
When possible, it is usually a good idea to make separate classes, or at least to split up a class into sections, to allow for similar students to work together. Otherwise, to have various types of students working on the same exercises next to each other, at different paces or levels of comprehension, may be a hindrance to the students' development. This obviously requires multiple qualified instructors and/or an instructor with a lot of time to devote to teaching classes. Some instructors are not able to teach more than a few times a week and thus cannot teach separate classes for different types of students. Even if an instructor had enough time to teach a few different types of classes, the schedule could probably never be perfect for everyone.
Below are several examples of general types of students. Within these types, it is possible to have sub-types. Sometimes, students can belong to two or more of these student types. Each learns best from a certain type of instructor/instruction. Some types require much more attention than the "average" student.
Children
Children generally have shorter attention spans than adults and this is more obvious the younger the student is. If possible, children's classes should be broken down into different age groups. Sometimes, boys and girls should be separated as well. Generally speaking, children under the age of about 13 are usually not mentally or emotionally mature enough (although they may be sufficiently physically mature) to join an adult class. Teachers of children must be able to tolerate less structure to the class at times, as younger students (particularly boys) may have a tendency to be disruptive. Mixing in physical games (including running or jumping) with their regular martial arts training may be a good idea, especially for the younger ones. Classes for younger children often have to be shorter, as these students cannot retain as much information and the instructors get tired faster while dealing with the potential for disruption and wandering attention of their students. Corrections should usually be more general than for adults, working on improvements in stages, over a longer period of time.
Mental Limitations
We must be conscious of the fact that not everyone is able to follow detailed descriptions of techniques, kata applications, a complex sparring drill or remember a complete kata after going through it only a few times. Part of this has to do with recognizing learning modes and matching teaching modes to accommodate. But it can be more than that. Some people have dyslexia, which may make it harder for them to figure out which foot is supposed to go forward. Others may have some kind of brain-damage and require more patience. Remember that just because someone does not "get it" right away does not mean that he is "stupid." Some people require more time and/or a different teaching mode. Teaching these students can be frustrating at times, requiring a great deal of patience. But this patience can pay off when the student finally does "get it."
Chronic Injuries and Illnesses
Examples of this include diabetes, asthma, poor eyesight and physical deformity. Each case must be treated independently, as rarely is more than one student in any given class afflicted with exactly the same problem. Diabetes usually means a student needs to be careful to maintain a certain level of physical activity, not training too hard or sitting idle too long. Asthma may require a student to sit out a section of class sometimes. Poor eyesight may cause a student to have problems in kumite drills. Physical deformity, such as a shorter limb may require alterations in stances or techniques. It is usually helpful to discuss these conditions with afflicted students to see what their perception is of their limitations. In addition to possibly making alterations in teaching these students, the teacher may also want to remind other students to keep such limitations in mind while training together.
Temporary Injuries and Illnesses
Examples of this type of affliction are broken/sprained joints, recent surgery, pulled muscles, blistered feet, and influenza. As with chronic injuries/illnesses, each situation must be treated individually. Teachers should not push students too hard when there are injuries or illnesses involved. Hard training can sometimes make the injury/illness worse. However, a good sweat can help to push some people through a fever and building up muscles around an injury (once healed) can be a crucial part of the rehabilitation process.
Old Age
There are many potential obstacles to consider when teaching older people. Some examples are heart problems and arthritis. When teaching someone with a weak heart or prone to seizures, it is probably a good idea to check with that person several times during each class to make sure all is well. For those with arthritis, there should be no sharp jarring motions of the inflicted joints; for the hips/knees, this includes jumping. Instructors should realize when to allow (or even suggest) students with various conditions to sit out and/or alter a given training exercise, due to their particular limitations.
The "Perfect" Athlete
Even the ideal athletic student can have problems. Teachers must be conscious of fatigue, pulled-muscles, dehydration and more. Those in their physical prime may have a feeling that they can do anything and therefore may be even more prone to injury than those who have problems of which they are being careful. A problem a teacher of high school or university students may sometimes face is that he may hurt himself while demonstrating to students, forgetting that he has some physical limitations that the students do not.
Thoughts for the Student
Most of the above was written with the teacher in mind. For the student, he or she should consider that not everyone else has the same limitations on training, nor the same abilities nor similar aspirations. Just because one older student is slow does not mean that they all are. Just because one training partner understood the sparring drill with only one demonstration from the instructor does not mean that the others did. We must all remember that a class is not composed of people with exactly the same attributes. We are all individuals. As such, we must consider each other's cases individually, as much as possible.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
As with instructors of any type of subject, whether athletic or academic, martial arts instructors must keep the individual student in mind while teaching. Typically, teaching in Japan involves trying to fit everyone into the same mold. With this approach, some students are bound to achieve less than their potential while others are likely to quit in despair. This type of teaching may be good for those who happen to fit the mold. But how many people actually do? Although instructors of larger classes cannot tailor every minute of every class to each and every individual in it, they can often at least customize in general terms, depending on the general level(s) of participants in the class.
When possible, it is usually a good idea to make separate classes, or at least to split up a class into sections, to allow for similar students to work together. Otherwise, to have various types of students working on the same exercises next to each other, at different paces or levels of comprehension, may be a hindrance to the students' development. This obviously requires multiple qualified instructors and/or an instructor with a lot of time to devote to teaching classes. Some instructors are not able to teach more than a few times a week and thus cannot teach separate classes for different types of students. Even if an instructor had enough time to teach a few different types of classes, the schedule could probably never be perfect for everyone.
Below are several examples of general types of students. Within these types, it is possible to have sub-types. Sometimes, students can belong to two or more of these student types. Each learns best from a certain type of instructor/instruction. Some types require much more attention than the "average" student.
Children
Children generally have shorter attention spans than adults and this is more obvious the younger the student is. If possible, children's classes should be broken down into different age groups. Sometimes, boys and girls should be separated as well. Generally speaking, children under the age of about 13 are usually not mentally or emotionally mature enough (although they may be sufficiently physically mature) to join an adult class. Teachers of children must be able to tolerate less structure to the class at times, as younger students (particularly boys) may have a tendency to be disruptive. Mixing in physical games (including running or jumping) with their regular martial arts training may be a good idea, especially for the younger ones. Classes for younger children often have to be shorter, as these students cannot retain as much information and the instructors get tired faster while dealing with the potential for disruption and wandering attention of their students. Corrections should usually be more general than for adults, working on improvements in stages, over a longer period of time.
Mental Limitations
We must be conscious of the fact that not everyone is able to follow detailed descriptions of techniques, kata applications, a complex sparring drill or remember a complete kata after going through it only a few times. Part of this has to do with recognizing learning modes and matching teaching modes to accommodate. But it can be more than that. Some people have dyslexia, which may make it harder for them to figure out which foot is supposed to go forward. Others may have some kind of brain-damage and require more patience. Remember that just because someone does not "get it" right away does not mean that he is "stupid." Some people require more time and/or a different teaching mode. Teaching these students can be frustrating at times, requiring a great deal of patience. But this patience can pay off when the student finally does "get it."
Chronic Injuries and Illnesses
Examples of this include diabetes, asthma, poor eyesight and physical deformity. Each case must be treated independently, as rarely is more than one student in any given class afflicted with exactly the same problem. Diabetes usually means a student needs to be careful to maintain a certain level of physical activity, not training too hard or sitting idle too long. Asthma may require a student to sit out a section of class sometimes. Poor eyesight may cause a student to have problems in kumite drills. Physical deformity, such as a shorter limb may require alterations in stances or techniques. It is usually helpful to discuss these conditions with afflicted students to see what their perception is of their limitations. In addition to possibly making alterations in teaching these students, the teacher may also want to remind other students to keep such limitations in mind while training together.
Temporary Injuries and Illnesses
Examples of this type of affliction are broken/sprained joints, recent surgery, pulled muscles, blistered feet, and influenza. As with chronic injuries/illnesses, each situation must be treated individually. Teachers should not push students too hard when there are injuries or illnesses involved. Hard training can sometimes make the injury/illness worse. However, a good sweat can help to push some people through a fever and building up muscles around an injury (once healed) can be a crucial part of the rehabilitation process.
Old Age
There are many potential obstacles to consider when teaching older people. Some examples are heart problems and arthritis. When teaching someone with a weak heart or prone to seizures, it is probably a good idea to check with that person several times during each class to make sure all is well. For those with arthritis, there should be no sharp jarring motions of the inflicted joints; for the hips/knees, this includes jumping. Instructors should realize when to allow (or even suggest) students with various conditions to sit out and/or alter a given training exercise, due to their particular limitations.
The "Perfect" Athlete
Even the ideal athletic student can have problems. Teachers must be conscious of fatigue, pulled-muscles, dehydration and more. Those in their physical prime may have a feeling that they can do anything and therefore may be even more prone to injury than those who have problems of which they are being careful. A problem a teacher of high school or university students may sometimes face is that he may hurt himself while demonstrating to students, forgetting that he has some physical limitations that the students do not.
Thoughts for the Student
Most of the above was written with the teacher in mind. For the student, he or she should consider that not everyone else has the same limitations on training, nor the same abilities nor similar aspirations. Just because one older student is slow does not mean that they all are. Just because one training partner understood the sparring drill with only one demonstration from the instructor does not mean that the others did. We must all remember that a class is not composed of people with exactly the same attributes. We are all individuals. As such, we must consider each other's cases individually, as much as possible.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Tuesday, October 2, 2001
"No Holds Barred" Competition
These days, there are several organizers promoting NHB ("No-Holds-Barred") competitions. These competitions go by names such as "Ultimate Fighting Championship" and "K-1." Competitors are usually very good at fighting and sometimes utilize some interesting techniques to overcome their opponents.
While I will not say that these competitions are completely without merit, I will say that I believe they do not always prove what is claimed. Most of the proponents of these events claim that all are welcome to participate and that the best fighters always win. While it is true that their competitors have come from various backgrounds, the qualification process is not entirely clear. There seems to be a bias towards those who are popular, or appear to the organizers to have the ability to become so. Most of them are unusually large, many in excess of 300lbs. That is not to say that some of the competitors are not good fighters. Many of the champions would probably be able to do a lot of damage to just about anyone, including me. What I am saying is that everyone is probably not actually given an equal chance to qualify for competition.
Regardless of the qualification process, of which I do not have any personal knowledge, there are other flaws in these competitions. Some of these flaws may be more obvious than others.
What are these competitions out to prove? Proponents claim that they prove who is the best fighter and/or what is the best fighting style. Often, the fighting style is not as important as the fighter. For example, a 3-foot tall man weighing 50 pounds could probably not overpower a 7-foot man weighing 400 pounds in hand-to-hand combat, even with extremely superior skill and advanced training in the most sophisticated style of martial arts. That is not to say that size is the only criteria either. Skill may be important, but there are more factors involved.
Let us presume that we have two equally experienced fighters from different styles, both with roughly the same physical abilities and attributes. They could even be identical twins in this theoretical experiment. With this type of scenario, the participant from the better style should win out, right?
Not necessarily. There are certain rules involved. This is not really a "no holds barred" competition to the extent that any method of fighting is allowed. Competitors cannot bite, eye-gouge, kick the groin, etc., which may be very common in some self-defense systems. Some martial arts may fair poorly in the type of competition that does not allow some of their techniques or tactics.
Furthermore, the setting of the fight may give one fighter an advantage over another. In some of the NHB competitions, the floors are heavily padded. This type of flooring gives an advantage to grappling martial arts over kicking/punching/striking arts. To most effectively execute a kick, punch or strike requires a base from which to project the striking weapon (foot, fist, etc.). The effectiveness of these techniques is diminished as a result of the absorption of pressure at this non-rigid surface. More specifically, grapplers that rely on twisting, turning and tumbling may have an advantage in this type of atmosphere, compared to competitors from "striking" arts that rely more on projecting their techniques from a stable stance that is pushing with the foot/feet into a solid surface/floor.
While NHB competition may prove, to some extent, which martial art is better in combat against which other martial art, I must question how valuable these results really are, even if true. What does it matter if a jujutsu stylist can beat a kickboxer, a karate stylist can overcome a judo practitioner and a wrestler can best an aikidoka? Do we really do martial arts in order to defend against other martial artists? If we are practicing our martial arts with self-defense in mind, we must think about a range of possible adversaries, as well as what different ways there may be to deal with those adversaries in various situations. Being able to withstand a kick to the head as you tackle your opponent and quickly put him into a headlock from which he cannot escape may have its value. But if someone grabs your wrist on the street corner and you try to execute the same technique on him, you may find yourself in trouble; especially if it turns out it was an innocent bystander trying to pull you out of the way of an oncoming car. In this type of situation, the aikido practitioner might do better than those of any of the other martial arts. Yet, aikido practitioners have probably done worse in NHB than anyone else. This should make one think: What are all these people really training for?
What these NHB competitions really provide is entertainment value. I do not have a problem with them as such, anymore than I have a problem with watching "professional wrestling" as an occasional deviation from the rigors of an overly-serious life. I just hope that people understand the limited value of these competitions, particularly concerning what they may actually prove.
Regardless of which martial art (or no martial art) representative wins these matches, does this mean that everyone should start studying that particular fighting method? First of all, different people have different goals, body types and abilities. What works for a short, stocky person may not work for someone tall and thin. What works for someone young and agile may not work for someone old and stiff. Also, some martial arts take longer to become proficient than others, particularly for some people who are not used to that type of activity. Furthermore, even if one decides he wants to practice a given martial art, that does not mean that he will be good at it. Much depends upon the instructor's ability to pass on skill and understanding. As stated in my article on teaching, having a good teacher who is not a superior performer may be more important than having a naturally gifted athlete who is not particularly skilled as an instructor.
Finally, the value of a given martial art as an effective form of fighting with other martial artists, or even self-defense against attackers on the street, is not the only criteria on which the merits of a martial art should be judged. In particular, when we consider the "-Do" arts (Aikido, Karatedo, etc.), where the Do really stands for something (simple translation: "path" or "way." implication: includes non-physical development), sometimes there is much more to gain from training than physical skill alone.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
While I will not say that these competitions are completely without merit, I will say that I believe they do not always prove what is claimed. Most of the proponents of these events claim that all are welcome to participate and that the best fighters always win. While it is true that their competitors have come from various backgrounds, the qualification process is not entirely clear. There seems to be a bias towards those who are popular, or appear to the organizers to have the ability to become so. Most of them are unusually large, many in excess of 300lbs. That is not to say that some of the competitors are not good fighters. Many of the champions would probably be able to do a lot of damage to just about anyone, including me. What I am saying is that everyone is probably not actually given an equal chance to qualify for competition.
Regardless of the qualification process, of which I do not have any personal knowledge, there are other flaws in these competitions. Some of these flaws may be more obvious than others.
What are these competitions out to prove? Proponents claim that they prove who is the best fighter and/or what is the best fighting style. Often, the fighting style is not as important as the fighter. For example, a 3-foot tall man weighing 50 pounds could probably not overpower a 7-foot man weighing 400 pounds in hand-to-hand combat, even with extremely superior skill and advanced training in the most sophisticated style of martial arts. That is not to say that size is the only criteria either. Skill may be important, but there are more factors involved.
Let us presume that we have two equally experienced fighters from different styles, both with roughly the same physical abilities and attributes. They could even be identical twins in this theoretical experiment. With this type of scenario, the participant from the better style should win out, right?
Not necessarily. There are certain rules involved. This is not really a "no holds barred" competition to the extent that any method of fighting is allowed. Competitors cannot bite, eye-gouge, kick the groin, etc., which may be very common in some self-defense systems. Some martial arts may fair poorly in the type of competition that does not allow some of their techniques or tactics.
Furthermore, the setting of the fight may give one fighter an advantage over another. In some of the NHB competitions, the floors are heavily padded. This type of flooring gives an advantage to grappling martial arts over kicking/punching/striking arts. To most effectively execute a kick, punch or strike requires a base from which to project the striking weapon (foot, fist, etc.). The effectiveness of these techniques is diminished as a result of the absorption of pressure at this non-rigid surface. More specifically, grapplers that rely on twisting, turning and tumbling may have an advantage in this type of atmosphere, compared to competitors from "striking" arts that rely more on projecting their techniques from a stable stance that is pushing with the foot/feet into a solid surface/floor.
While NHB competition may prove, to some extent, which martial art is better in combat against which other martial art, I must question how valuable these results really are, even if true. What does it matter if a jujutsu stylist can beat a kickboxer, a karate stylist can overcome a judo practitioner and a wrestler can best an aikidoka? Do we really do martial arts in order to defend against other martial artists? If we are practicing our martial arts with self-defense in mind, we must think about a range of possible adversaries, as well as what different ways there may be to deal with those adversaries in various situations. Being able to withstand a kick to the head as you tackle your opponent and quickly put him into a headlock from which he cannot escape may have its value. But if someone grabs your wrist on the street corner and you try to execute the same technique on him, you may find yourself in trouble; especially if it turns out it was an innocent bystander trying to pull you out of the way of an oncoming car. In this type of situation, the aikido practitioner might do better than those of any of the other martial arts. Yet, aikido practitioners have probably done worse in NHB than anyone else. This should make one think: What are all these people really training for?
What these NHB competitions really provide is entertainment value. I do not have a problem with them as such, anymore than I have a problem with watching "professional wrestling" as an occasional deviation from the rigors of an overly-serious life. I just hope that people understand the limited value of these competitions, particularly concerning what they may actually prove.
Regardless of which martial art (or no martial art) representative wins these matches, does this mean that everyone should start studying that particular fighting method? First of all, different people have different goals, body types and abilities. What works for a short, stocky person may not work for someone tall and thin. What works for someone young and agile may not work for someone old and stiff. Also, some martial arts take longer to become proficient than others, particularly for some people who are not used to that type of activity. Furthermore, even if one decides he wants to practice a given martial art, that does not mean that he will be good at it. Much depends upon the instructor's ability to pass on skill and understanding. As stated in my article on teaching, having a good teacher who is not a superior performer may be more important than having a naturally gifted athlete who is not particularly skilled as an instructor.
Finally, the value of a given martial art as an effective form of fighting with other martial artists, or even self-defense against attackers on the street, is not the only criteria on which the merits of a martial art should be judged. In particular, when we consider the "-Do" arts (Aikido, Karatedo, etc.), where the Do really stands for something (simple translation: "path" or "way." implication: includes non-physical development), sometimes there is much more to gain from training than physical skill alone.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Sunday, September 2, 2001
Mind-Body Connection
I have heard many martial arts' instructors use the phrase "mind-body connection." I am sure that many of them really believe in what they say when they use that phrase. But many instructors may use the term lightly, primarily as a way to sound more esoteric.
As I see it, "mind-body connection" does not have to be esoteric. In my opinion, a connection between the mind and the body primarily describes mindful action of the body. In other words, think as you move, think about your movements.
How often do we really think about our movements in karate (or other martial arts, or any activity, for that matter)? Sure, many of us use our minds in order to memorize new combinations or to concentrate on excelling at a particular kumite timing. While this can be described as "mind-body connection," I think we can and should go beyond that.
Although most people do not have a desire to delve so deeply into their training as to spend hours each day on non-physical study of their art(s), at least some thinking can be of great benefit to physical training.
Training in the mind only is of limited value. So is training of the body only. To integrate the two is the ideal. By using the mind more, the physical training becomes more efficient and the techniques more effective. We should strive to "connect" mental and physical training more to make our training time more valuable, "steepening the learning curve."
"Mindless Repetition Training" ("MRT") that occurs in a large number of dojo around the world every day has its value for physical training of the body. But it is not, generally, as efficient or effective a use of training time. To think about the moves as we do them speeds up the learning process and more completely ingrains the movements, ideas and strategies into our bodies and minds. MRT can be good sometimes to ingrain movements into our bodies and our subconscious through "muscle-memory" or to simply get a workout. But to do this type of training only is neglecting a significant potential portion of training, perhaps even the physical training itself, in a way.
The mind-body connection can work in the other direction, too. A finely-tuned body can help to make the mind more alert and in top condition for other applications. A physically fit body may contribute to the development of an emotionally sound and intellectually active mind.
Some people read about karate (such as you are doing right now). Some instructors actually tell students that they should not read about karate, nor should they talk about the subject; "shut up and train" is an often-quoted phrase. Anyone who has attended university classes (of any subject) knows that many of the best classes are those that involve discussion time, not simply lectures. Although there is much written about karate that is of relatively little value, there is a lot of valuable information and opinion put out these days as well, much of it for little- or no-charge on the internet.
• Read - books, magazines, e-zines, discussion group postings, articles, newsletters
• Watch - instructional videotapes, demonstrations, tournament
• Discuss - talk with others about their questions and opinions to open up new ideas and get feedback on your thoughts.
• Experiment - If you think you are on to something, perhaps it is worth some experimenting; the so-called "masters" do not have all the answers.
Read, watch videos, discuss, experiment, think.. But keep training as you do it. Integrate the physical and mental sides of your study and it should make both better.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
As I see it, "mind-body connection" does not have to be esoteric. In my opinion, a connection between the mind and the body primarily describes mindful action of the body. In other words, think as you move, think about your movements.
How often do we really think about our movements in karate (or other martial arts, or any activity, for that matter)? Sure, many of us use our minds in order to memorize new combinations or to concentrate on excelling at a particular kumite timing. While this can be described as "mind-body connection," I think we can and should go beyond that.
Although most people do not have a desire to delve so deeply into their training as to spend hours each day on non-physical study of their art(s), at least some thinking can be of great benefit to physical training.
Training in the mind only is of limited value. So is training of the body only. To integrate the two is the ideal. By using the mind more, the physical training becomes more efficient and the techniques more effective. We should strive to "connect" mental and physical training more to make our training time more valuable, "steepening the learning curve."
"Mindless Repetition Training" ("MRT") that occurs in a large number of dojo around the world every day has its value for physical training of the body. But it is not, generally, as efficient or effective a use of training time. To think about the moves as we do them speeds up the learning process and more completely ingrains the movements, ideas and strategies into our bodies and minds. MRT can be good sometimes to ingrain movements into our bodies and our subconscious through "muscle-memory" or to simply get a workout. But to do this type of training only is neglecting a significant potential portion of training, perhaps even the physical training itself, in a way.
The mind-body connection can work in the other direction, too. A finely-tuned body can help to make the mind more alert and in top condition for other applications. A physically fit body may contribute to the development of an emotionally sound and intellectually active mind.
Some people read about karate (such as you are doing right now). Some instructors actually tell students that they should not read about karate, nor should they talk about the subject; "shut up and train" is an often-quoted phrase. Anyone who has attended university classes (of any subject) knows that many of the best classes are those that involve discussion time, not simply lectures. Although there is much written about karate that is of relatively little value, there is a lot of valuable information and opinion put out these days as well, much of it for little- or no-charge on the internet.
• Read - books, magazines, e-zines, discussion group postings, articles, newsletters
• Watch - instructional videotapes, demonstrations, tournament
• Discuss - talk with others about their questions and opinions to open up new ideas and get feedback on your thoughts.
• Experiment - If you think you are on to something, perhaps it is worth some experimenting; the so-called "masters" do not have all the answers.
Read, watch videos, discuss, experiment, think.. But keep training as you do it. Integrate the physical and mental sides of your study and it should make both better.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Thursday, August 2, 2001
On the Value of Tournaments
Tournaments can hold different value for different people. For some competitors, they are a chance to test how good one's kata or kumite looks compared to others of similar rank. For some spectators, they are opportunities to get a better idea of what is possible in karate. For some instructors, they are a motivational tool to try to get students to train harder. There are various reasons to consider getting involved in tournaments. While there are some who believe tournaments have no value and avoid them completely, there are others who seem to focus on competition to the detriment of training itself.
I have had my share of tournament experience. I have competed in various Shotokan and multi-style tournaments in Japan and the US, including several All-Japans representing Tokyo (which requires placing in the top 8 in the Tokyo tournament). I have additionally watched numerous national and international competitions and have dozens of them on videotape. I have acted as a coach. I have been a corner referee and a center judge. I have helped with tournament organization and promotion. All of this, and I do not consider tournament competition to be so important relative to many other aspects of Karate. That being said, I still think it has its benefits.
Some people are just not interested in competing. Some older practitioners consider tournaments an activity for young people. While it may be true that many attributes of athleticism deteriorate after one reaches his/her thirties, some qualities can continue to be improved for decades after that. Some people in their 60's look better doing their kata than some of the best of those in their 20's and 30's now placing in tournaments. While athleticism plays a part in many competitions, some look beyond this. One should realize that the old saying is true: "It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game."
Some people feel that they simply are not qualified to compete, as they know many others who are competing are more likely to win. Competition should not be against others as much as against oneself. By this, I mean than one should push oneself to reach new heights previously thought unattainable. While tournaments may not be necessary as inspiration, they can be a good judge of progress.
Some instructors and senior practitioners feel embarrassed to be beaten by younger black belts, perhaps even a student. I have lost kumite rounds to people of lesser experience and ability than myself. In many cases, we both knew that outside of a tournament situation, there would be no doubt as to who was better. That being said, some big, strong participants often lose tournaments to small, weak opponents who, realistically, might not stand a chance in an all-out actual encounter. We must realize that tournaments are about points; they are a game. While this game may at times be realistic, it is not reality. For this reason, winning or losing should not be considered of the highest importance.
What, then, is the advantage to winning in a tournament? One of the biggest advantages I see to winning multiple-round kumite competition is the chance to gain more experience with various people. With more unknowns, this additional experience could be quite valuable. For this reason, I would be just as happy placing in the final rounds, regardless of which color the medal was (or winning no medal at all). Alternatively, I would rather just spend the time doing non-tournament practice with various people outside of a competitive environment than sit around waiting for my turn to compete. For kata competition, one of the main advantages of tournament performance over regular dojo performance is facing the added anxiety involved being publicly scrutinized. Who is a better kata performer is usually relatively clear. This is a why the same person may be seen winning the kata portion of a competition year after year, while kumite winners change (the best man does not always win, due to varying circumstances, including luck).
What might make a tournament more valuable than regular training? I think regular training is, generally, more valuable for overall improvement. If taking part in activities outside of regular dojo classes, I would also place training at outside seminars at higher priority than tournaments. But there is still value to tournaments and other extra-dojo activities. Sometimes these extra-curricular activities help as motivational tools and often help to bring family and friends closer to what you enjoy doing.
I see several potential negative parts related to tournament competition:
• For some competitors, tournaments are the reason for training. Competition is the means and the end. All their training is competition-oriented, if they train at all.
• Some competitors like to show off and are only there to win. Some competitors like to show off before the judge, their peers and the spectators, even if they do not win.
• Some promoters exaggerate the value of their tournaments in order to make unreasonable profit (profit is not bad, per se, but trying to convince competitors that the tournament is extremely important is).
• Some promoters put on tournaments in an effort to gain promotion within their organization, as tournaments are a way to get money and popularity for the organization.
I see these potentially positive facets to tournament involvement:
• As unrealistic as it might be, the experience can be valuable.
• Tournament training is better than no training at all.
• It helps spread understanding and appreciation (although sometimes not entirely accurate) of karate to those who otherwise might not have opportunity to see it.
• Watching and/or competing in a tournament, as well as meeting others there, can be fun.
• It can be an inspirational experience.
• Watching high-quality performance can be a good training aid.
• Observing mistakes in the performance of others can be a resource for self-evaluation.
• Concentration required in the face of anxiety can be valuable emotional training that may help in an actual self-defense situation.
To summarize, I think tournaments have many potential positive and negative facets. As with so many other aspects of karate, it generally true that much of what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
I have had my share of tournament experience. I have competed in various Shotokan and multi-style tournaments in Japan and the US, including several All-Japans representing Tokyo (which requires placing in the top 8 in the Tokyo tournament). I have additionally watched numerous national and international competitions and have dozens of them on videotape. I have acted as a coach. I have been a corner referee and a center judge. I have helped with tournament organization and promotion. All of this, and I do not consider tournament competition to be so important relative to many other aspects of Karate. That being said, I still think it has its benefits.
Some people are just not interested in competing. Some older practitioners consider tournaments an activity for young people. While it may be true that many attributes of athleticism deteriorate after one reaches his/her thirties, some qualities can continue to be improved for decades after that. Some people in their 60's look better doing their kata than some of the best of those in their 20's and 30's now placing in tournaments. While athleticism plays a part in many competitions, some look beyond this. One should realize that the old saying is true: "It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game."
Some people feel that they simply are not qualified to compete, as they know many others who are competing are more likely to win. Competition should not be against others as much as against oneself. By this, I mean than one should push oneself to reach new heights previously thought unattainable. While tournaments may not be necessary as inspiration, they can be a good judge of progress.
Some instructors and senior practitioners feel embarrassed to be beaten by younger black belts, perhaps even a student. I have lost kumite rounds to people of lesser experience and ability than myself. In many cases, we both knew that outside of a tournament situation, there would be no doubt as to who was better. That being said, some big, strong participants often lose tournaments to small, weak opponents who, realistically, might not stand a chance in an all-out actual encounter. We must realize that tournaments are about points; they are a game. While this game may at times be realistic, it is not reality. For this reason, winning or losing should not be considered of the highest importance.
What, then, is the advantage to winning in a tournament? One of the biggest advantages I see to winning multiple-round kumite competition is the chance to gain more experience with various people. With more unknowns, this additional experience could be quite valuable. For this reason, I would be just as happy placing in the final rounds, regardless of which color the medal was (or winning no medal at all). Alternatively, I would rather just spend the time doing non-tournament practice with various people outside of a competitive environment than sit around waiting for my turn to compete. For kata competition, one of the main advantages of tournament performance over regular dojo performance is facing the added anxiety involved being publicly scrutinized. Who is a better kata performer is usually relatively clear. This is a why the same person may be seen winning the kata portion of a competition year after year, while kumite winners change (the best man does not always win, due to varying circumstances, including luck).
What might make a tournament more valuable than regular training? I think regular training is, generally, more valuable for overall improvement. If taking part in activities outside of regular dojo classes, I would also place training at outside seminars at higher priority than tournaments. But there is still value to tournaments and other extra-dojo activities. Sometimes these extra-curricular activities help as motivational tools and often help to bring family and friends closer to what you enjoy doing.
I see several potential negative parts related to tournament competition:
• For some competitors, tournaments are the reason for training. Competition is the means and the end. All their training is competition-oriented, if they train at all.
• Some competitors like to show off and are only there to win. Some competitors like to show off before the judge, their peers and the spectators, even if they do not win.
• Some promoters exaggerate the value of their tournaments in order to make unreasonable profit (profit is not bad, per se, but trying to convince competitors that the tournament is extremely important is).
• Some promoters put on tournaments in an effort to gain promotion within their organization, as tournaments are a way to get money and popularity for the organization.
I see these potentially positive facets to tournament involvement:
• As unrealistic as it might be, the experience can be valuable.
• Tournament training is better than no training at all.
• It helps spread understanding and appreciation (although sometimes not entirely accurate) of karate to those who otherwise might not have opportunity to see it.
• Watching and/or competing in a tournament, as well as meeting others there, can be fun.
• It can be an inspirational experience.
• Watching high-quality performance can be a good training aid.
• Observing mistakes in the performance of others can be a resource for self-evaluation.
• Concentration required in the face of anxiety can be valuable emotional training that may help in an actual self-defense situation.
To summarize, I think tournaments have many potential positive and negative facets. As with so many other aspects of karate, it generally true that much of what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Monday, July 2, 2001
Lining Up and Bowing In
The procedure of lining up and bowing in or out at the beginning or end of a training session may have seemed completely foreign to some of us when we first saw or experienced it. While its practice is usually understood, or at least accepted, by almost all karateka, many westerners may become somewhat uncomfortable when faced with an unfamiliar situation. There are many rules associated with these procedures; some more important or rigid than others.
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Lining Up and Bowing In
The procedure of lining up and bowing in or out at the beginning or end of a training session may have seemed completely foreign to some of us when we first saw or experienced it. While its practice is usually understood, or at least accepted, by almost all karateka, many westerners may become somewhat uncomfortable when faced with an unfamiliar situation. There are many rules associated with these procedures; some more important or rigid than others.
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Lining Up and Bowing In
The procedure of lining up and bowing in or out at the beginning or end of a training session may have seemed completely foreign to some of us when we first saw or experienced it. While its practice is usually understood, or at least accepted, by almost all karateka, many westerners may become somewhat uncomfortable when faced with an unfamiliar situation. There are many rules associated with these procedures; some more important or rigid than others.
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.
While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.
First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.
A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.
Placement of the shomen (front)
For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.
In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."
The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."
Key: I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior
If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.
It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.
I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.
For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.
For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Saturday, June 2, 2001
Empty Your Cup
Supplementary Training in Other Martial Arts and Karate Styles
Many martial artists are familiar with the old story of the sword master who visited another warrior to learn a new martial art. If my memory is correct, the story involves the sword master sitting down for tea while boasting about his experience and abilities. The warrior poured his visitor a cup of tea while listening. He continued filling the cup until it overflowed. The sword master was alarmed at this and demanded an explanation. The warrior pouring tea told the sword master that he must "empty his cup" before he should expect to be able to fill it again (=learn something new).
When studying a new martial art, as with just about any subject that is related to, but different from, the original martial art/style, one must be able to assume a "beginner's mind" (shoshin, in Japanese). The person who begins a new art thinking that his prior abilities will mean faster advancement may end up learning more slowly than someone with no prior experience or someone who is able to let go of prior assumptions.
I have had some exposure to various martial arts, including several styles of Karate. I do not claim to be able to perform anything but Shotokan Karate with any degree of expertise. But I have taken part in enough of several activities, in addition to having read and discussed enough about them, to know the main concepts of each and how their practice can be blended for supplemental training.
Karate is primarily a punching/kicking/striking art form. Shotokan in particular generally focuses on low stances and proper body mechanics; form taking precedence over function. Other styles of Karate may emphasize more of technique application, sparring strategy, etc. Obviously, even the same style could look or feel much different depending on the school, instructor or location; even from class-to-class with the same instructor.
As Karate is a punch/kick/strike art, the practice of another punch/kick/strike art, such as Tae-Kwon-Do or weaponless styles of Kung-fu, may be of limited use as a supplement to Karate; possibly only causing confusion. That being said, some have found the study of kata from Goju-ryu, for example, to be a nice change of pace from the kata of Shotokan.
While Shotokan does include grappling maneuvers as possible interpretations for many of its techniques, these applications are usually not emphasized in training. For those who wish to do more of this, Aikido or Judo may be good complementary training. (Note that Aikijutsu and Jujutsu are more practical-oriented versions of the "softer" Aikido and Judo, which include non-physical aspects that the -jutsu versions may not. Similar relationships exist between Karatedo and Karatejutsu, Kendo and Kenjutsu, etc.)
Early in Shotokan's history, many practiced with traditional weapons such as bo (staff), sai and tonfa. Most Shotokan dojo do not include weapons' training in their curriculum. For those who would like to travel that route, training in weapon arts such as Kendo, Naginatado and Iaido may be good complementary training.
Regardless of what other martial art or style of Karate practiced, it is a good idea to keep in mind the practice of "emptying your cup." There is no need to *completely* empty your cup. Some concepts carry over from one martial art to another, such as the idea of keeping a stable center, conscience of proper posture and understanding that martial arts should only be used for defense. Some concepts, however, do not carry over.
I have seen big, strong people try to use their size and strength to show their superiority vs the smaller, lighter Aikidoka, only to have them fall to the floor in pain as a result. If they had been able to "flow" as is done in Aikido more than in Karate, they could have learned something painlessly. Just because you can do one thing well does not mean that you need to be the best at everything. To think that your students or fellow classmates would think less of you if you admit that you do not know a different martial art is immature. Sometimes it is faster to get to the top of a hill by starting at the bottom and going straight up, rather than pretending you are qualified to lead and trying to begin closer to the top than is productive.
At a special training session at my dojo in January, there were high-ranking instructors from different weapons' arts demonstrating their arts. During the Shotokan portion of the event, these instructors had no problem taking part as "students" while they tried something new. They did not perform their techniques any better than the Karate students who had just started class a few weeks prior. But they were fine with this. They could "empty their cups" so they could learn something. They did. And it felt good to see this.
There is no need to fill more than one cup. But if you desire to learn more than one martial art or style of Karate, keep your intentions in mind and know what is worth keeping and what is worth discarding, "emptying your cup" as appropriate.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Many martial artists are familiar with the old story of the sword master who visited another warrior to learn a new martial art. If my memory is correct, the story involves the sword master sitting down for tea while boasting about his experience and abilities. The warrior poured his visitor a cup of tea while listening. He continued filling the cup until it overflowed. The sword master was alarmed at this and demanded an explanation. The warrior pouring tea told the sword master that he must "empty his cup" before he should expect to be able to fill it again (=learn something new).
When studying a new martial art, as with just about any subject that is related to, but different from, the original martial art/style, one must be able to assume a "beginner's mind" (shoshin, in Japanese). The person who begins a new art thinking that his prior abilities will mean faster advancement may end up learning more slowly than someone with no prior experience or someone who is able to let go of prior assumptions.
I have had some exposure to various martial arts, including several styles of Karate. I do not claim to be able to perform anything but Shotokan Karate with any degree of expertise. But I have taken part in enough of several activities, in addition to having read and discussed enough about them, to know the main concepts of each and how their practice can be blended for supplemental training.
Karate is primarily a punching/kicking/striking art form. Shotokan in particular generally focuses on low stances and proper body mechanics; form taking precedence over function. Other styles of Karate may emphasize more of technique application, sparring strategy, etc. Obviously, even the same style could look or feel much different depending on the school, instructor or location; even from class-to-class with the same instructor.
As Karate is a punch/kick/strike art, the practice of another punch/kick/strike art, such as Tae-Kwon-Do or weaponless styles of Kung-fu, may be of limited use as a supplement to Karate; possibly only causing confusion. That being said, some have found the study of kata from Goju-ryu, for example, to be a nice change of pace from the kata of Shotokan.
While Shotokan does include grappling maneuvers as possible interpretations for many of its techniques, these applications are usually not emphasized in training. For those who wish to do more of this, Aikido or Judo may be good complementary training. (Note that Aikijutsu and Jujutsu are more practical-oriented versions of the "softer" Aikido and Judo, which include non-physical aspects that the -jutsu versions may not. Similar relationships exist between Karatedo and Karatejutsu, Kendo and Kenjutsu, etc.)
Early in Shotokan's history, many practiced with traditional weapons such as bo (staff), sai and tonfa. Most Shotokan dojo do not include weapons' training in their curriculum. For those who would like to travel that route, training in weapon arts such as Kendo, Naginatado and Iaido may be good complementary training.
Regardless of what other martial art or style of Karate practiced, it is a good idea to keep in mind the practice of "emptying your cup." There is no need to *completely* empty your cup. Some concepts carry over from one martial art to another, such as the idea of keeping a stable center, conscience of proper posture and understanding that martial arts should only be used for defense. Some concepts, however, do not carry over.
I have seen big, strong people try to use their size and strength to show their superiority vs the smaller, lighter Aikidoka, only to have them fall to the floor in pain as a result. If they had been able to "flow" as is done in Aikido more than in Karate, they could have learned something painlessly. Just because you can do one thing well does not mean that you need to be the best at everything. To think that your students or fellow classmates would think less of you if you admit that you do not know a different martial art is immature. Sometimes it is faster to get to the top of a hill by starting at the bottom and going straight up, rather than pretending you are qualified to lead and trying to begin closer to the top than is productive.
At a special training session at my dojo in January, there were high-ranking instructors from different weapons' arts demonstrating their arts. During the Shotokan portion of the event, these instructors had no problem taking part as "students" while they tried something new. They did not perform their techniques any better than the Karate students who had just started class a few weeks prior. But they were fine with this. They could "empty their cups" so they could learn something. They did. And it felt good to see this.
There is no need to fill more than one cup. But if you desire to learn more than one martial art or style of Karate, keep your intentions in mind and know what is worth keeping and what is worth discarding, "emptying your cup" as appropriate.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Empty Your Cup
Supplementary Training in Other Martial Arts and Karate Styles
Many martial artists are familiar with the old story of the sword master who visited another warrior to learn a new martial art. If my memory is correct, the story involves the sword master sitting down for tea while boasting about his experience and abilities. The warrior poured his visitor a cup of tea while listening. He continued filling the cup until it overflowed. The sword master was alarmed at this and demanded an explanation. The warrior pouring tea told the sword master that he must "empty his cup" before he should expect to be able to fill it again (=learn something new).
When studying a new martial art, as with just about any subject that is related to, but different from, the original martial art/style, one must be able to assume a "beginner's mind" (shoshin, in Japanese). The person who begins a new art thinking that his prior abilities will mean faster advancement may end up learning more slowly than someone with no prior experience or someone who is able to let go of prior assumptions.
I have had some exposure to various martial arts, including several styles of Karate. I do not claim to be able to perform anything but Shotokan Karate with any degree of expertise. But I have taken part in enough of several activities, in addition to having read and discussed enough about them, to know the main concepts of each and how their practice can be blended for supplemental training.
Karate is primarily a punching/kicking/striking art form. Shotokan in particular generally focuses on low stances and proper body mechanics; form taking precedence over function. Other styles of Karate may emphasize more of technique application, sparring strategy, etc. Obviously, even the same style could look or feel much different depending on the school, instructor or location; even from class-to-class with the same instructor.
As Karate is a punch/kick/strike art, the practice of another punch/kick/strike art, such as Tae-Kwon-Do or weaponless styles of Kung-fu, may be of limited use as a supplement to Karate; possibly only causing confusion. That being said, some have found the study of kata from Goju-ryu, for example, to be a nice change of pace from the kata of Shotokan.
While Shotokan does include grappling maneuvers as possible interpretations for many of its techniques, these applications are usually not emphasized in training. For those who wish to do more of this, Aikido or Judo may be good complementary training. (Note that Aikijutsu and Jujutsu are more practical-oriented versions of the "softer" Aikido and Judo, which include non-physical aspects that the -jutsu versions may not. Similar relationships exist between Karatedo and Karatejutsu, Kendo and Kenjutsu, etc.)
Early in Shotokan's history, many practiced with traditional weapons such as bo (staff), sai and tonfa. Most Shotokan dojo do not include weapons' training in their curriculum. For those who would like to travel that route, training in weapon arts such as Kendo, Naginatado and Iaido may be good complementary training.
Regardless of what other martial art or style of Karate practiced, it is a good idea to keep in mind the practice of "emptying your cup." There is no need to *completely* empty your cup. Some concepts carry over from one martial art to another, such as the idea of keeping a stable center, conscience of proper posture and understanding that martial arts should only be used for defense. Some concepts, however, do not carry over.
I have seen big, strong people try to use their size and strength to show their superiority vs the smaller, lighter Aikidoka, only to have them fall to the floor in pain as a result. If they had been able to "flow" as is done in Aikido more than in Karate, they could have learned something painlessly. Just because you can do one thing well does not mean that you need to be the best at everything. To think that your students or fellow classmates would think less of you if you admit that you do not know a different martial art is immature. Sometimes it is faster to get to the top of a hill by starting at the bottom and going straight up, rather than pretending you are qualified to lead and trying to begin closer to the top than is productive.
At a special training session at my dojo in January, there were high-ranking instructors from different weapons' arts demonstrating their arts. During the Shotokan portion of the event, these instructors had no problem taking part as "students" while they tried something new. They did not perform their techniques any better than the Karate students who had just started class a few weeks prior. But they were fine with this. They could "empty their cups" so they could learn something. They did. And it felt good to see this.
There is no need to fill more than one cup. But if you desire to learn more than one martial art or style of Karate, keep your intentions in mind and know what is worth keeping and what is worth discarding, "emptying your cup" as appropriate.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Many martial artists are familiar with the old story of the sword master who visited another warrior to learn a new martial art. If my memory is correct, the story involves the sword master sitting down for tea while boasting about his experience and abilities. The warrior poured his visitor a cup of tea while listening. He continued filling the cup until it overflowed. The sword master was alarmed at this and demanded an explanation. The warrior pouring tea told the sword master that he must "empty his cup" before he should expect to be able to fill it again (=learn something new).
When studying a new martial art, as with just about any subject that is related to, but different from, the original martial art/style, one must be able to assume a "beginner's mind" (shoshin, in Japanese). The person who begins a new art thinking that his prior abilities will mean faster advancement may end up learning more slowly than someone with no prior experience or someone who is able to let go of prior assumptions.
I have had some exposure to various martial arts, including several styles of Karate. I do not claim to be able to perform anything but Shotokan Karate with any degree of expertise. But I have taken part in enough of several activities, in addition to having read and discussed enough about them, to know the main concepts of each and how their practice can be blended for supplemental training.
Karate is primarily a punching/kicking/striking art form. Shotokan in particular generally focuses on low stances and proper body mechanics; form taking precedence over function. Other styles of Karate may emphasize more of technique application, sparring strategy, etc. Obviously, even the same style could look or feel much different depending on the school, instructor or location; even from class-to-class with the same instructor.
As Karate is a punch/kick/strike art, the practice of another punch/kick/strike art, such as Tae-Kwon-Do or weaponless styles of Kung-fu, may be of limited use as a supplement to Karate; possibly only causing confusion. That being said, some have found the study of kata from Goju-ryu, for example, to be a nice change of pace from the kata of Shotokan.
While Shotokan does include grappling maneuvers as possible interpretations for many of its techniques, these applications are usually not emphasized in training. For those who wish to do more of this, Aikido or Judo may be good complementary training. (Note that Aikijutsu and Jujutsu are more practical-oriented versions of the "softer" Aikido and Judo, which include non-physical aspects that the -jutsu versions may not. Similar relationships exist between Karatedo and Karatejutsu, Kendo and Kenjutsu, etc.)
Early in Shotokan's history, many practiced with traditional weapons such as bo (staff), sai and tonfa. Most Shotokan dojo do not include weapons' training in their curriculum. For those who would like to travel that route, training in weapon arts such as Kendo, Naginatado and Iaido may be good complementary training.
Regardless of what other martial art or style of Karate practiced, it is a good idea to keep in mind the practice of "emptying your cup." There is no need to *completely* empty your cup. Some concepts carry over from one martial art to another, such as the idea of keeping a stable center, conscience of proper posture and understanding that martial arts should only be used for defense. Some concepts, however, do not carry over.
I have seen big, strong people try to use their size and strength to show their superiority vs the smaller, lighter Aikidoka, only to have them fall to the floor in pain as a result. If they had been able to "flow" as is done in Aikido more than in Karate, they could have learned something painlessly. Just because you can do one thing well does not mean that you need to be the best at everything. To think that your students or fellow classmates would think less of you if you admit that you do not know a different martial art is immature. Sometimes it is faster to get to the top of a hill by starting at the bottom and going straight up, rather than pretending you are qualified to lead and trying to begin closer to the top than is productive.
At a special training session at my dojo in January, there were high-ranking instructors from different weapons' arts demonstrating their arts. During the Shotokan portion of the event, these instructors had no problem taking part as "students" while they tried something new. They did not perform their techniques any better than the Karate students who had just started class a few weeks prior. But they were fine with this. They could "empty their cups" so they could learn something. They did. And it felt good to see this.
There is no need to fill more than one cup. But if you desire to learn more than one martial art or style of Karate, keep your intentions in mind and know what is worth keeping and what is worth discarding, "emptying your cup" as appropriate.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Wednesday, May 2, 2001
<i>Embusen</i> - The Demonstration Line
An embu (sometimes written enbu) is a "demonstration". Sen means "line(s)". Embusen, therefore, refers to the line(s) that is followed during a demonstration of movements, such as in kata.
When we perform kata in a test or tournament, as well as during regular class training, most of us invariably step (or try to step) in the same direction each time we perform each particular movement. Why is this? While it may, for example, make sense to concentrate on stepping forward during most attacking techniques, many of the stepping patterns do not seem to make much sense at all, when we consider the intended self-defense application.
For example, in the first move of Heian Shodan, why would we step forward (actually, turning to the left and then stepping forward), and not back, if the intended application is as a block? Why do we not step back on all the blocks? One possible answer is that these simply look like blocks, but are actually strikes or grappling techniques (see March 1999 article for more on this subject). While this may make some sense, it would also make sense to be able to perform the technique, no matter what the intended application, to various directions, stepping forward, back or to the side(s).
"Expect the unexpected." If someone practices only one method of execution for a technique or combination, how would that person expect to be able to apply the technique or combination in other than the ideal situation (as performed in the kata)? To be able to perform a technique or movement to various directions should increase the chances of being able to use the technique or movement in a more spontaneous encounter.
Returning to the starting mark
Some instructors/examiners/judges make a big deal about kata performance finishing at the same spot as starting. While some may claim this is extreme perfectionism, I would say it is far from it. In fact, to make it back to exactly the same spot as one started the kata actually requires imperfection.
Let me explain. If one performs all the basic stances and steps/shifts between these stances according to standard Shotokan form (see stance articles for more detail), one rarely ends at the starting mark in kata. I have reviewed all 27 kata in the current JKA curriculum in this manner and have found that the majority should finish at least one foot from the starting mark, if all the component parts are performed according to proper basic criteria.
So why such emphasis on returning to the starting mark in kata? While I cannot say definitively, I believe the original idea of encouraging performers to work towards returning to the starting mark was primarily an effort to create a minimum standard. The JKA is famous (notorious?) for creating and enforcing standards. I doubt the original idea was to deduct points anytime one finished only a minimal distance from the starting mark. If this was the idea, I believe the point was overdone. Many today seem to think that this is the way to judge kata, deducting points indiscriminately based on how far from the starting mark one finishes a kata (for example: 1/10 point for every 6" from the mark).
For example, when I am judging a performance of the kata Heian Yondan in a JKA-style tournament, I would favor the performer (all else being equal) who finished exactly on the starting mark over the one who ended ten feet behind it. I would, however, favor the one who finished two feet behind the mark over the one who finished exactly on it. If all the stances and movements are performed according to JKA standards, someone doing Heian Yondan should finish about two feet behind where he started.
While there is something to be said for striving toward a goal, finishing kata at the starting point is an artificial goal. As long as its impracticality and distortion of basic form is understood, I see no problem with this kind of kata performance being a variation practiced. But it should be understood that this is a deviation from the basic form upon which JKA-style Shotokan is based.
Demonstrating, in contrast to realistic practice
Much of how we normally practice kata is somewhat artificial. Kata tempo, stepping direction/type, application and other factors have been artificially standardized to ensure a minimum level of performance.
To make kata practice more realistic, we should be doing all the moves at full speed, using smaller blocking movements and less "ballistic" attacks, among other things. Actually, to make kata performance even more realistic, we should be practicing with multiple partners at full speed and power, without holding back. Obviously, this could involve unnecessary injury and an inefficient use of time for those not performing the kata. Furthermore "realistic" practice is not everyone's purpose for training.
To perform kata according to the standards set by organizations such as the JKA and its affiliates is not without its worth. The parameters according to which we set our performance standards assure a level of minimum ability of members of the organization. All the students moving the same way makes the instructor's job more efficient. But to limit our performance to those parameters only is a way of limiting our study. After a certain level of experience is attained, variations from the standard formats should be explored. But only after a reasonably thorough understanding of the standard methods has been attained.
I regularly encourage the practice of non-standard kata performance in my classes. Whether practicing kata for self-defense, physical fitness or as an art form, varying stepping directions and stepping/shifting patterns makes sense.
In the end, the embusen is simply the "demonstration line." Adherence to kata performance standards is largely a formality and a way to ensure minimum standards are met.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
When we perform kata in a test or tournament, as well as during regular class training, most of us invariably step (or try to step) in the same direction each time we perform each particular movement. Why is this? While it may, for example, make sense to concentrate on stepping forward during most attacking techniques, many of the stepping patterns do not seem to make much sense at all, when we consider the intended self-defense application.
For example, in the first move of Heian Shodan, why would we step forward (actually, turning to the left and then stepping forward), and not back, if the intended application is as a block? Why do we not step back on all the blocks? One possible answer is that these simply look like blocks, but are actually strikes or grappling techniques (see March 1999 article for more on this subject). While this may make some sense, it would also make sense to be able to perform the technique, no matter what the intended application, to various directions, stepping forward, back or to the side(s).
"Expect the unexpected." If someone practices only one method of execution for a technique or combination, how would that person expect to be able to apply the technique or combination in other than the ideal situation (as performed in the kata)? To be able to perform a technique or movement to various directions should increase the chances of being able to use the technique or movement in a more spontaneous encounter.
Returning to the starting mark
Some instructors/examiners/judges make a big deal about kata performance finishing at the same spot as starting. While some may claim this is extreme perfectionism, I would say it is far from it. In fact, to make it back to exactly the same spot as one started the kata actually requires imperfection.
Let me explain. If one performs all the basic stances and steps/shifts between these stances according to standard Shotokan form (see stance articles for more detail), one rarely ends at the starting mark in kata. I have reviewed all 27 kata in the current JKA curriculum in this manner and have found that the majority should finish at least one foot from the starting mark, if all the component parts are performed according to proper basic criteria.
So why such emphasis on returning to the starting mark in kata? While I cannot say definitively, I believe the original idea of encouraging performers to work towards returning to the starting mark was primarily an effort to create a minimum standard. The JKA is famous (notorious?) for creating and enforcing standards. I doubt the original idea was to deduct points anytime one finished only a minimal distance from the starting mark. If this was the idea, I believe the point was overdone. Many today seem to think that this is the way to judge kata, deducting points indiscriminately based on how far from the starting mark one finishes a kata (for example: 1/10 point for every 6" from the mark).
For example, when I am judging a performance of the kata Heian Yondan in a JKA-style tournament, I would favor the performer (all else being equal) who finished exactly on the starting mark over the one who ended ten feet behind it. I would, however, favor the one who finished two feet behind the mark over the one who finished exactly on it. If all the stances and movements are performed according to JKA standards, someone doing Heian Yondan should finish about two feet behind where he started.
While there is something to be said for striving toward a goal, finishing kata at the starting point is an artificial goal. As long as its impracticality and distortion of basic form is understood, I see no problem with this kind of kata performance being a variation practiced. But it should be understood that this is a deviation from the basic form upon which JKA-style Shotokan is based.
Demonstrating, in contrast to realistic practice
Much of how we normally practice kata is somewhat artificial. Kata tempo, stepping direction/type, application and other factors have been artificially standardized to ensure a minimum level of performance.
To make kata practice more realistic, we should be doing all the moves at full speed, using smaller blocking movements and less "ballistic" attacks, among other things. Actually, to make kata performance even more realistic, we should be practicing with multiple partners at full speed and power, without holding back. Obviously, this could involve unnecessary injury and an inefficient use of time for those not performing the kata. Furthermore "realistic" practice is not everyone's purpose for training.
To perform kata according to the standards set by organizations such as the JKA and its affiliates is not without its worth. The parameters according to which we set our performance standards assure a level of minimum ability of members of the organization. All the students moving the same way makes the instructor's job more efficient. But to limit our performance to those parameters only is a way of limiting our study. After a certain level of experience is attained, variations from the standard formats should be explored. But only after a reasonably thorough understanding of the standard methods has been attained.
I regularly encourage the practice of non-standard kata performance in my classes. Whether practicing kata for self-defense, physical fitness or as an art form, varying stepping directions and stepping/shifting patterns makes sense.
In the end, the embusen is simply the "demonstration line." Adherence to kata performance standards is largely a formality and a way to ensure minimum standards are met.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
<i>Embusen</i> - The Demonstration Line
An embu (sometimes written enbu) is a "demonstration". Sen means "line(s)". Embusen, therefore, refers to the line(s) that is followed during a demonstration of movements, such as in kata.
When we perform kata in a test or tournament, as well as during regular class training, most of us invariably step (or try to step) in the same direction each time we perform each particular movement. Why is this? While it may, for example, make sense to concentrate on stepping forward during most attacking techniques, many of the stepping patterns do not seem to make much sense at all, when we consider the intended self-defense application.
For example, in the first move of Heian Shodan, why would we step forward (actually, turning to the left and then stepping forward), and not back, if the intended application is as a block? Why do we not step back on all the blocks? One possible answer is that these simply look like blocks, but are actually strikes or grappling techniques (see March 1999 article for more on this subject). While this may make some sense, it would also make sense to be able to perform the technique, no matter what the intended application, to various directions, stepping forward, back or to the side(s).
"Expect the unexpected." If someone practices only one method of execution for a technique or combination, how would that person expect to be able to apply the technique or combination in other than the ideal situation (as performed in the kata)? To be able to perform a technique or movement to various directions should increase the chances of being able to use the technique or movement in a more spontaneous encounter.
Returning to the starting mark
Some instructors/examiners/judges make a big deal about kata performance finishing at the same spot as starting. While some may claim this is extreme perfectionism, I would say it is far from it. In fact, to make it back to exactly the same spot as one started the kata actually requires imperfection.
Let me explain. If one performs all the basic stances and steps/shifts between these stances according to standard Shotokan form (see stance articles for more detail), one rarely ends at the starting mark in kata. I have reviewed all 27 kata in the current JKA curriculum in this manner and have found that the majority should finish at least one foot from the starting mark, if all the component parts are performed according to proper basic criteria.
So why such emphasis on returning to the starting mark in kata? While I cannot say definitively, I believe the original idea of encouraging performers to work towards returning to the starting mark was primarily an effort to create a minimum standard. The JKA is famous (notorious?) for creating and enforcing standards. I doubt the original idea was to deduct points anytime one finished only a minimal distance from the starting mark. If this was the idea, I believe the point was overdone. Many today seem to think that this is the way to judge kata, deducting points indiscriminately based on how far from the starting mark one finishes a kata (for example: 1/10 point for every 6" from the mark).
For example, when I am judging a performance of the kata Heian Yondan in a JKA-style tournament, I would favor the performer (all else being equal) who finished exactly on the starting mark over the one who ended ten feet behind it. I would, however, favor the one who finished two feet behind the mark over the one who finished exactly on it. If all the stances and movements are performed according to JKA standards, someone doing Heian Yondan should finish about two feet behind where he started.
While there is something to be said for striving toward a goal, finishing kata at the starting point is an artificial goal. As long as its impracticality and distortion of basic form is understood, I see no problem with this kind of kata performance being a variation practiced. But it should be understood that this is a deviation from the basic form upon which JKA-style Shotokan is based.
Demonstrating, in contrast to realistic practice
Much of how we normally practice kata is somewhat artificial. Kata tempo, stepping direction/type, application and other factors have been artificially standardized to ensure a minimum level of performance.
To make kata practice more realistic, we should be doing all the moves at full speed, using smaller blocking movements and less "ballistic" attacks, among other things. Actually, to make kata performance even more realistic, we should be practicing with multiple partners at full speed and power, without holding back. Obviously, this could involve unnecessary injury and an inefficient use of time for those not performing the kata. Furthermore "realistic" practice is not everyone's purpose for training.
To perform kata according to the standards set by organizations such as the JKA and its affiliates is not without its worth. The parameters according to which we set our performance standards assure a level of minimum ability of members of the organization. All the students moving the same way makes the instructor's job more efficient. But to limit our performance to those parameters only is a way of limiting our study. After a certain level of experience is attained, variations from the standard formats should be explored. But only after a reasonably thorough understanding of the standard methods has been attained.
I regularly encourage the practice of non-standard kata performance in my classes. Whether practicing kata for self-defense, physical fitness or as an art form, varying stepping directions and stepping/shifting patterns makes sense.
In the end, the embusen is simply the "demonstration line." Adherence to kata performance standards is largely a formality and a way to ensure minimum standards are met.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
When we perform kata in a test or tournament, as well as during regular class training, most of us invariably step (or try to step) in the same direction each time we perform each particular movement. Why is this? While it may, for example, make sense to concentrate on stepping forward during most attacking techniques, many of the stepping patterns do not seem to make much sense at all, when we consider the intended self-defense application.
For example, in the first move of Heian Shodan, why would we step forward (actually, turning to the left and then stepping forward), and not back, if the intended application is as a block? Why do we not step back on all the blocks? One possible answer is that these simply look like blocks, but are actually strikes or grappling techniques (see March 1999 article for more on this subject). While this may make some sense, it would also make sense to be able to perform the technique, no matter what the intended application, to various directions, stepping forward, back or to the side(s).
"Expect the unexpected." If someone practices only one method of execution for a technique or combination, how would that person expect to be able to apply the technique or combination in other than the ideal situation (as performed in the kata)? To be able to perform a technique or movement to various directions should increase the chances of being able to use the technique or movement in a more spontaneous encounter.
Returning to the starting mark
Some instructors/examiners/judges make a big deal about kata performance finishing at the same spot as starting. While some may claim this is extreme perfectionism, I would say it is far from it. In fact, to make it back to exactly the same spot as one started the kata actually requires imperfection.
Let me explain. If one performs all the basic stances and steps/shifts between these stances according to standard Shotokan form (see stance articles for more detail), one rarely ends at the starting mark in kata. I have reviewed all 27 kata in the current JKA curriculum in this manner and have found that the majority should finish at least one foot from the starting mark, if all the component parts are performed according to proper basic criteria.
So why such emphasis on returning to the starting mark in kata? While I cannot say definitively, I believe the original idea of encouraging performers to work towards returning to the starting mark was primarily an effort to create a minimum standard. The JKA is famous (notorious?) for creating and enforcing standards. I doubt the original idea was to deduct points anytime one finished only a minimal distance from the starting mark. If this was the idea, I believe the point was overdone. Many today seem to think that this is the way to judge kata, deducting points indiscriminately based on how far from the starting mark one finishes a kata (for example: 1/10 point for every 6" from the mark).
For example, when I am judging a performance of the kata Heian Yondan in a JKA-style tournament, I would favor the performer (all else being equal) who finished exactly on the starting mark over the one who ended ten feet behind it. I would, however, favor the one who finished two feet behind the mark over the one who finished exactly on it. If all the stances and movements are performed according to JKA standards, someone doing Heian Yondan should finish about two feet behind where he started.
While there is something to be said for striving toward a goal, finishing kata at the starting point is an artificial goal. As long as its impracticality and distortion of basic form is understood, I see no problem with this kind of kata performance being a variation practiced. But it should be understood that this is a deviation from the basic form upon which JKA-style Shotokan is based.
Demonstrating, in contrast to realistic practice
Much of how we normally practice kata is somewhat artificial. Kata tempo, stepping direction/type, application and other factors have been artificially standardized to ensure a minimum level of performance.
To make kata practice more realistic, we should be doing all the moves at full speed, using smaller blocking movements and less "ballistic" attacks, among other things. Actually, to make kata performance even more realistic, we should be practicing with multiple partners at full speed and power, without holding back. Obviously, this could involve unnecessary injury and an inefficient use of time for those not performing the kata. Furthermore "realistic" practice is not everyone's purpose for training.
To perform kata according to the standards set by organizations such as the JKA and its affiliates is not without its worth. The parameters according to which we set our performance standards assure a level of minimum ability of members of the organization. All the students moving the same way makes the instructor's job more efficient. But to limit our performance to those parameters only is a way of limiting our study. After a certain level of experience is attained, variations from the standard formats should be explored. But only after a reasonably thorough understanding of the standard methods has been attained.
I regularly encourage the practice of non-standard kata performance in my classes. Whether practicing kata for self-defense, physical fitness or as an art form, varying stepping directions and stepping/shifting patterns makes sense.
In the end, the embusen is simply the "demonstration line." Adherence to kata performance standards is largely a formality and a way to ensure minimum standards are met.
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Monday, April 2, 2001
Teaching Martial Arts (and many other things, for that matter...)
What makes a good teacher?
There are many people who are good at teaching. There are also many people who are not good at teaching. This goes for karate as it does for almost any subject taught. Some people can do something very well, but just do not teach it well (there are many athlete-turned-coach examples of this in professional sports). Others have almost no actual experience doing something, yet can teach very well. Some people call themselves teachers, when all they do during their "classes" is call out the name of a technique and count as everyone repeats the technique numerous times. This is true not only in the martial arts. There are many "teachers" in schools around the world who seem to know nothing about teaching, even though they may know a lot about the subject matter that they are supposed to be teaching. I have had several professors in college who were terrible teachers. I have also had some brilliant instructors who did not even realize how good they were at teaching. Many of the best teachers have given much thought to their method of teaching. But some have not; good teaching ability may sometimes come naturally. Also, most of the best teachers seem to enjoy teaching. I suspect this is more than mere coincidence.
So what makes a teacher good? Is it the ability to pass on knowledge? That could certainly be a large part of it. Is it the ability to inspire students to learn? Or to impart a certain "spirit"? These could also be important. In addition to how well a teacher teaches, it is sometimes very important "how" a teacher teaches.
Teaching Styles
There are basically three major teaching styles, at least for physical disciplines such as martial arts. These teaching methods can be combined or blended.
Explanation
This type of teaching involves time and effort of the instructor. Simply talking about a technique is not really sufficient. One must really understand the how’s and why’s. Explanations could be about how to perform a technique correctly, according to biomechanics principles. Or they could be about how to apply various types of timing, depending on the situation. Explanations could cover kata application or history. Or they could concern psychology in self-defense.
Demonstration
Showing people how to do things correctly or showing them how not to do things requires physical ability. Demonstrating such that observers understand the point can usually be done better when the instructor has a good idea of what to focus on to convey the desired message to students.
Correction
This method involves watching students perform and correcting them, either verbally or physically. Simply counting as students perform technique is not really correcting. This type of teaching involves either telling a student what to do or not to do, or adjusting their form through physical contact.
How do you / your instructor(s) teach?
Most karate instructors I know focus on the Correction method, with some Demonstration method mixed in to save time. I also know of quite a few instructors who try to use technical explanations, but lack the knowledge or ability to form coherent explanations. Often, teaching methods are blended, such as explaining to a student how/why a technique should be performed a certain way, while demonstrating and correcting the student as he or she tries to do as the instructor explained and demonstrated.
Learning Styles
There are three major learning styles, at least in the case of physical disciplines such as martial arts.
Analyzing theory
Whether listening to a detailed explanation or performing a simple technique, this type of student is always trying to figure things out. Analyzing students often ask questions to help them learn.
Duplicating what is seen
This student watches for clues for improvement, through observation of instructor and other students. This is the way the majority of Japanese are expected to learn almost every subject in school, as well as karate. Repetition of techniques is the way this student advances.
Feeling
This type of student wants to practice technique to feel what it is like. Not content with just watching or thinking about a technique, this person must experience it. This type of student often prefers to practice less-structured sparring and might prefer to consider the application of kata movements as opposed to the physical form.
Note: Common theory on learning styles refer to the three types of learning broken up slightly differently to what I have describe above. The more common breakdown is (a) auditory - learning through hearing about something (b) visual - learning by watching and (c) kinesthetic - learning by doing. There are also two broad styles of learning commonly refered to as (x) global and (y) analytical, which combine with the first three mentioned (a, b and c).
Matching Teaching Style and Learning Style
Just because one instructor is considered by many to be the best does not mean that he is best for you. A good instructor is only good if he is good for you. If you learn best when you see a good physical example to follow, then an instructor who can perform well (or at least has an assistant who can demonstrate well) is good for you. If you feel a need to break things down into details to be able to piece them together into good technique, then someone who has a lot of knowledge and ability to share it is a good type of teacher for you. If you do not care about what a proper technique looks like or the details behind it, but simply want to experience the feeling of a martial art, perhaps you have little need for the knowledge or performance abilities of some instructors. In the end, a teacher is good when he or she can teach in such a way that can help you to learn.
Bibliography:
"Martial Arts Teachers on Teaching," by Carol Wiley. ISBN: 1-883319-09-9
(This is an excellent book and one that I would recommend to anyone serious about teaching the Martial Arts.)
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
There are many people who are good at teaching. There are also many people who are not good at teaching. This goes for karate as it does for almost any subject taught. Some people can do something very well, but just do not teach it well (there are many athlete-turned-coach examples of this in professional sports). Others have almost no actual experience doing something, yet can teach very well. Some people call themselves teachers, when all they do during their "classes" is call out the name of a technique and count as everyone repeats the technique numerous times. This is true not only in the martial arts. There are many "teachers" in schools around the world who seem to know nothing about teaching, even though they may know a lot about the subject matter that they are supposed to be teaching. I have had several professors in college who were terrible teachers. I have also had some brilliant instructors who did not even realize how good they were at teaching. Many of the best teachers have given much thought to their method of teaching. But some have not; good teaching ability may sometimes come naturally. Also, most of the best teachers seem to enjoy teaching. I suspect this is more than mere coincidence.
So what makes a teacher good? Is it the ability to pass on knowledge? That could certainly be a large part of it. Is it the ability to inspire students to learn? Or to impart a certain "spirit"? These could also be important. In addition to how well a teacher teaches, it is sometimes very important "how" a teacher teaches.
Teaching Styles
There are basically three major teaching styles, at least for physical disciplines such as martial arts. These teaching methods can be combined or blended.
Explanation
This type of teaching involves time and effort of the instructor. Simply talking about a technique is not really sufficient. One must really understand the how’s and why’s. Explanations could be about how to perform a technique correctly, according to biomechanics principles. Or they could be about how to apply various types of timing, depending on the situation. Explanations could cover kata application or history. Or they could concern psychology in self-defense.
Demonstration
Showing people how to do things correctly or showing them how not to do things requires physical ability. Demonstrating such that observers understand the point can usually be done better when the instructor has a good idea of what to focus on to convey the desired message to students.
Correction
This method involves watching students perform and correcting them, either verbally or physically. Simply counting as students perform technique is not really correcting. This type of teaching involves either telling a student what to do or not to do, or adjusting their form through physical contact.
How do you / your instructor(s) teach?
Most karate instructors I know focus on the Correction method, with some Demonstration method mixed in to save time. I also know of quite a few instructors who try to use technical explanations, but lack the knowledge or ability to form coherent explanations. Often, teaching methods are blended, such as explaining to a student how/why a technique should be performed a certain way, while demonstrating and correcting the student as he or she tries to do as the instructor explained and demonstrated.
Learning Styles
There are three major learning styles, at least in the case of physical disciplines such as martial arts.
Analyzing theory
Whether listening to a detailed explanation or performing a simple technique, this type of student is always trying to figure things out. Analyzing students often ask questions to help them learn.
Duplicating what is seen
This student watches for clues for improvement, through observation of instructor and other students. This is the way the majority of Japanese are expected to learn almost every subject in school, as well as karate. Repetition of techniques is the way this student advances.
Feeling
This type of student wants to practice technique to feel what it is like. Not content with just watching or thinking about a technique, this person must experience it. This type of student often prefers to practice less-structured sparring and might prefer to consider the application of kata movements as opposed to the physical form.
Note: Common theory on learning styles refer to the three types of learning broken up slightly differently to what I have describe above. The more common breakdown is (a) auditory - learning through hearing about something (b) visual - learning by watching and (c) kinesthetic - learning by doing. There are also two broad styles of learning commonly refered to as (x) global and (y) analytical, which combine with the first three mentioned (a, b and c).
Matching Teaching Style and Learning Style
Just because one instructor is considered by many to be the best does not mean that he is best for you. A good instructor is only good if he is good for you. If you learn best when you see a good physical example to follow, then an instructor who can perform well (or at least has an assistant who can demonstrate well) is good for you. If you feel a need to break things down into details to be able to piece them together into good technique, then someone who has a lot of knowledge and ability to share it is a good type of teacher for you. If you do not care about what a proper technique looks like or the details behind it, but simply want to experience the feeling of a martial art, perhaps you have little need for the knowledge or performance abilities of some instructors. In the end, a teacher is good when he or she can teach in such a way that can help you to learn.
Bibliography:
"Martial Arts Teachers on Teaching," by Carol Wiley. ISBN: 1-883319-09-9
(This is an excellent book and one that I would recommend to anyone serious about teaching the Martial Arts.)
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Teaching Martial Arts (and many other things, for that matter...)
What makes a good teacher?
There are many people who are good at teaching. There are also many people who are not good at teaching. This goes for karate as it does for almost any subject taught. Some people can do something very well, but just do not teach it well (there are many athlete-turned-coach examples of this in professional sports). Others have almost no actual experience doing something, yet can teach very well. Some people call themselves teachers, when all they do during their "classes" is call out the name of a technique and count as everyone repeats the technique numerous times. This is true not only in the martial arts. There are many "teachers" in schools around the world who seem to know nothing about teaching, even though they may know a lot about the subject matter that they are supposed to be teaching. I have had several professors in college who were terrible teachers. I have also had some brilliant instructors who did not even realize how good they were at teaching. Many of the best teachers have given much thought to their method of teaching. But some have not; good teaching ability may sometimes come naturally. Also, most of the best teachers seem to enjoy teaching. I suspect this is more than mere coincidence.
So what makes a teacher good? Is it the ability to pass on knowledge? That could certainly be a large part of it. Is it the ability to inspire students to learn? Or to impart a certain "spirit"? These could also be important. In addition to how well a teacher teaches, it is sometimes very important "how" a teacher teaches.
Teaching Styles
There are basically three major teaching styles, at least for physical disciplines such as martial arts. These teaching methods can be combined or blended.
Explanation
This type of teaching involves time and effort of the instructor. Simply talking about a technique is not really sufficient. One must really understand the how’s and why’s. Explanations could be about how to perform a technique correctly, according to biomechanics principles. Or they could be about how to apply various types of timing, depending on the situation. Explanations could cover kata application or history. Or they could concern psychology in self-defense.
Demonstration
Showing people how to do things correctly or showing them how not to do things requires physical ability. Demonstrating such that observers understand the point can usually be done better when the instructor has a good idea of what to focus on to convey the desired message to students.
Correction
This method involves watching students perform and correcting them, either verbally or physically. Simply counting as students perform technique is not really correcting. This type of teaching involves either telling a student what to do or not to do, or adjusting their form through physical contact.
How do you / your instructor(s) teach?
Most karate instructors I know focus on the Correction method, with some Demonstration method mixed in to save time. I also know of quite a few instructors who try to use technical explanations, but lack the knowledge or ability to form coherent explanations. Often, teaching methods are blended, such as explaining to a student how/why a technique should be performed a certain way, while demonstrating and correcting the student as he or she tries to do as the instructor explained and demonstrated.
Learning Styles
There are three major learning styles, at least in the case of physical disciplines such as martial arts.
Analyzing theory
Whether listening to a detailed explanation or performing a simple technique, this type of student is always trying to figure things out. Analyzing students often ask questions to help them learn.
Duplicating what is seen
This student watches for clues for improvement, through observation of instructor and other students. This is the way the majority of Japanese are expected to learn almost every subject in school, as well as karate. Repetition of techniques is the way this student advances.
Feeling
This type of student wants to practice technique to feel what it is like. Not content with just watching or thinking about a technique, this person must experience it. This type of student often prefers to practice less-structured sparring and might prefer to consider the application of kata movements as opposed to the physical form.
Note: Common theory on learning styles refer to the three types of learning broken up slightly differently to what I have describe above. The more common breakdown is (a) auditory - learning through hearing about something (b) visual - learning by watching and (c) kinesthetic - learning by doing. There are also two broad styles of learning commonly refered to as (x) global and (y) analytical, which combine with the first three mentioned (a, b and c).
Matching Teaching Style and Learning Style
Just because one instructor is considered by many to be the best does not mean that he is best for you. A good instructor is only good if he is good for you. If you learn best when you see a good physical example to follow, then an instructor who can perform well (or at least has an assistant who can demonstrate well) is good for you. If you feel a need to break things down into details to be able to piece them together into good technique, then someone who has a lot of knowledge and ability to share it is a good type of teacher for you. If you do not care about what a proper technique looks like or the details behind it, but simply want to experience the feeling of a martial art, perhaps you have little need for the knowledge or performance abilities of some instructors. In the end, a teacher is good when he or she can teach in such a way that can help you to learn.
Bibliography:
"Martial Arts Teachers on Teaching," by Carol Wiley. ISBN: 1-883319-09-9
(This is an excellent book and one that I would recommend to anyone serious about teaching the Martial Arts.)
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
There are many people who are good at teaching. There are also many people who are not good at teaching. This goes for karate as it does for almost any subject taught. Some people can do something very well, but just do not teach it well (there are many athlete-turned-coach examples of this in professional sports). Others have almost no actual experience doing something, yet can teach very well. Some people call themselves teachers, when all they do during their "classes" is call out the name of a technique and count as everyone repeats the technique numerous times. This is true not only in the martial arts. There are many "teachers" in schools around the world who seem to know nothing about teaching, even though they may know a lot about the subject matter that they are supposed to be teaching. I have had several professors in college who were terrible teachers. I have also had some brilliant instructors who did not even realize how good they were at teaching. Many of the best teachers have given much thought to their method of teaching. But some have not; good teaching ability may sometimes come naturally. Also, most of the best teachers seem to enjoy teaching. I suspect this is more than mere coincidence.
So what makes a teacher good? Is it the ability to pass on knowledge? That could certainly be a large part of it. Is it the ability to inspire students to learn? Or to impart a certain "spirit"? These could also be important. In addition to how well a teacher teaches, it is sometimes very important "how" a teacher teaches.
Teaching Styles
There are basically three major teaching styles, at least for physical disciplines such as martial arts. These teaching methods can be combined or blended.
Explanation
This type of teaching involves time and effort of the instructor. Simply talking about a technique is not really sufficient. One must really understand the how’s and why’s. Explanations could be about how to perform a technique correctly, according to biomechanics principles. Or they could be about how to apply various types of timing, depending on the situation. Explanations could cover kata application or history. Or they could concern psychology in self-defense.
Demonstration
Showing people how to do things correctly or showing them how not to do things requires physical ability. Demonstrating such that observers understand the point can usually be done better when the instructor has a good idea of what to focus on to convey the desired message to students.
Correction
This method involves watching students perform and correcting them, either verbally or physically. Simply counting as students perform technique is not really correcting. This type of teaching involves either telling a student what to do or not to do, or adjusting their form through physical contact.
How do you / your instructor(s) teach?
Most karate instructors I know focus on the Correction method, with some Demonstration method mixed in to save time. I also know of quite a few instructors who try to use technical explanations, but lack the knowledge or ability to form coherent explanations. Often, teaching methods are blended, such as explaining to a student how/why a technique should be performed a certain way, while demonstrating and correcting the student as he or she tries to do as the instructor explained and demonstrated.
Learning Styles
There are three major learning styles, at least in the case of physical disciplines such as martial arts.
Analyzing theory
Whether listening to a detailed explanation or performing a simple technique, this type of student is always trying to figure things out. Analyzing students often ask questions to help them learn.
Duplicating what is seen
This student watches for clues for improvement, through observation of instructor and other students. This is the way the majority of Japanese are expected to learn almost every subject in school, as well as karate. Repetition of techniques is the way this student advances.
Feeling
This type of student wants to practice technique to feel what it is like. Not content with just watching or thinking about a technique, this person must experience it. This type of student often prefers to practice less-structured sparring and might prefer to consider the application of kata movements as opposed to the physical form.
Note: Common theory on learning styles refer to the three types of learning broken up slightly differently to what I have describe above. The more common breakdown is (a) auditory - learning through hearing about something (b) visual - learning by watching and (c) kinesthetic - learning by doing. There are also two broad styles of learning commonly refered to as (x) global and (y) analytical, which combine with the first three mentioned (a, b and c).
Matching Teaching Style and Learning Style
Just because one instructor is considered by many to be the best does not mean that he is best for you. A good instructor is only good if he is good for you. If you learn best when you see a good physical example to follow, then an instructor who can perform well (or at least has an assistant who can demonstrate well) is good for you. If you feel a need to break things down into details to be able to piece them together into good technique, then someone who has a lot of knowledge and ability to share it is a good type of teacher for you. If you do not care about what a proper technique looks like or the details behind it, but simply want to experience the feeling of a martial art, perhaps you have little need for the knowledge or performance abilities of some instructors. In the end, a teacher is good when he or she can teach in such a way that can help you to learn.
Bibliography:
"Martial Arts Teachers on Teaching," by Carol Wiley. ISBN: 1-883319-09-9
(This is an excellent book and one that I would recommend to anyone serious about teaching the Martial Arts.)
Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)