Student of the Year

This post is long overdue, because I couldn’t figure out how to write it without sounding like I’m bragging. And I still haven’t really figured it out. So I’m just going to tell it as it comes out of my brain to my fingers, and ask my readers to believe that I’m really and truly not trying to praise myself.

On 22 December 2009, my Sensei honoured me with one of the most amazing recognitions I know of: he made me 2009 Student of the Year. I treasure this recognition more than I do my college diploma or my professional certifications.

I was surprised beyond belief when I realised that Sensei was talking about me in his prefatory remarks. Because I was positive that I knew who was getting it. So positive that I was concentrating on being ready the minute my class-mate realised it was her, so I could catch the expression on her face with my camera. In fact, I was concentrating so hard on my class-mate (and keeping my stupid camera from turning itself off) that I was only half-listening to our Sensei, so I missed most of what he said.

I “tuned back in” when my best friend, Vicki, who was sitting with me on the sidelines (because my foot was still in a cast so I couldn’t work out), gave me a sharp jab with her elbow and hissed, “I told you it was you! Stop looking at her and pay attention! I told you!”

That’s when what Sensei was saying actually penetrated the empty space between my ears. I heard him say something about a state championship jacket and then about some memory-work CDs, and it finally hit me that Sensei was talking about me, and that Vicki had been right for the past month when she kept saying that it was going to be me, and not one of the three other people I had thought for sure would be chosen.

I don’t feel like I deserve it. To understand the primary reason why, you must know that our martial arts system is a lot different from most systems. It’s Christian-based, with Bible memory work and class devotionals required for advancement, in addition to kata, self-defense work, and basic skills. There are special designations for those who share their Christian testimonies and witness to others and go on missions trips. And I don’t do those things, while most of the other students do.

I can’t afford — financially or time-wise — mission trips. And I don’t go out and witness to people. There are reasons for that, but this is not the post to go into that. Suffice it to say that, while I thought I’d done fairly well on the physical requirements (for a fat, forty-year-old female), I fell miserably short on the spiritual side. The guy who was 2008 SotY memorized all twenty memory passages, from white belt level to black belt level, in less than six months, and he can do a 540 spinning kick that is as far off the floor as he is tall. (It’s truly amazing!) My friend Vicki, who was 2007 SotY, is the one who had the brilliant idea to tie the belt ranks in with the fruits of the spirit, and she visits churches to share her testimony while breaking boards. I’m nowhere near that good.

There are a lot of other reasons that I didn’t think I would be chosen. The physical isn’t really all that stable. I know my lower-belt kata pretty well, and I’ve got most of the basics down. But I struggle with spin kicks, and I can’t do jump kicks at all. I’m the most uncoordinated klutz on the planet. I keep getting injured — though, oddly enough, never in class or when practising. And, though I’ve lost 70 pounds since I started karate classes, I’m still very overweight, and my doctor says I’m not to jump about yet, because my hips, knees, and ankles are not up to the strain.  For the same reason, I’m hesitant about some of the more gymnastical things that we do, like tuck rolls and falls — though not the cartwheels. (It’s scary to trust 200 pounds solely to the support of my wrists, but I’ve been doing cartwheels since I was 8, so the mechanics of them isn’t hard for me. Just the “omigosh are my wrists going to give way” part. And that is strictly mental.)

And, quite frankly, the mental / emotional side of my martial arts training isn’t exactly up to par. I’m probably the slowest advancer ever. When Sensei asks me to try something new, I tend to roll my eyes and get all resistant. When he asks me to teach a kata to other students, I’m likely to say “I don’t know it well enough.” And there have been many times when I have had to tell him, flat-out, that I am just too scared to even think of trying something.

I know  I must frustrate my Sensei with my attitude. I don’t intend to be uncooperative, but, I think, sometimes I am. A lot of it is fear. Pure and simple. A lot of it is the brain damage I suffered in the wreck in 2005 — it “wrecked” my short-term memory, and didn’t do great things for my long-term memory, either. It also left me with a speech impediment that shows up at the most inopportune moments, like when I’m trying to remember a kata and teach it to people who haven’t done it before.) And a lot of it is just not wanting to teach someone else the wrong thing.

Unlike most of the other students, I don’t really practise a lot outside of class. I’m a single mother home-schooling two boys while working full-time and doing a bit of freelance editing. I”m also working on a collection of short stories and a book. So free time is pretty much non-existent in my life, and outside-of-class practise just doesn’t happen. The spirit is willing — no, eager — to practise daily, but the schedule makes it impossible.

But karate has been good for me in so many ways. It’s amazing that I’m even taking classes, as I have never been the athletic type. I can injure myself walking on a flat surface in well-constructed, flat-soled, rubber-tread shoes. So I’m not exaggerating when I say that I started karate classes on what was, essentially, a dare, and that the biggest challenge has been to not say “uncle” when the going got rough.

Other big challenges were rank tests (all those people looking at me), the “bull-ring” (where other students “attack” you to test your self-defence skills), and competing in open tournaments. In fact, on that last one, if you’d told me a year ago that I would be paying good money to go and demonstrate kata in front of an arena full of strangers and a panel of multi-degreed black belts, I would have laughed you to scorn. I actually did tell both Sensei and Vicki that it would “never” happen. But I did it. And I actually enjoyed it.

I have surprised myself by falling in love with karate. And I am touched and humbled, more than I can ever express, that my Sensei thinks I deserve this honour. But I must say that if it weren’t for my class-mates and friends (especially Aaron, Adam, Deborah, Ellender, Ethan, Jane, Joy, Melinda, both Mike B.’s, Trish, Vicki,  Zach …), and for my patient, kind Sensei, I know I would not have gotten as far as I have, and I might not have even stuck with it. Thank you — all of you — but especially Sensei, for your help and encouragement over the last eighteen months, and for this amazing honour.

Tags: challenges, character, Christianity, Education, Family Life, fear, honours, karate, Religion, respect, True Stories