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I was studying Chinese Kenpo Karate back in 1967. I have to tell you there was not a lot of martial arts being taught back then. Judo had become known during the 50's, and karate was making it's impact during the 60's, but the gung fu craze of the 70's, and the ninpo phase of the 90's were still far away.
At any rate, I was studying what I thought had to be the best art in the world, and I was studying under a person who I just knew was the deadliest man to ever walk the face of the planet. After all, the other instructors all told me he was just unbeatable, and he even had trophies in the window! How could I consider doubting?
One day I was talking to a green belt who had joined our school just recently, but who had known my instructor for years. "Look," he said, pointing at a certificate on the wall, "there's my name." And sure enough, there was his name, and it was attesting to my instructor's certificate of rank!
Some time after that I was studying a form of Korean karate--sorry, there wasn't any real tae kwon do back then, and the tae kwon do that there was used pinans/heians in their curriculum. This art was also taught by a fellow surrounded by rumor. This time I looked at the teacher instead of the certificate, and ended up staying.
As time went on and I made the journey up to black belt I received these ornate, beautiful certificates with original Korean writing and a real chop. When I received my black belt certificate, however, all I got was just a shoddy piece of paper with bad handwriting. My instructor explained it away with, "Oh, I left that organization. Had to create some certificates of my own."
Curious, having the funny feeling that there was something more to the story, I asked one of the assistant instructors what the skinny was. The true story, according to that fellow, was that a couple of young Koreans came in one day and told my instructor that the organization he belonged to was being absorbed by another organization, so he would have to come along, and if he did so he would automatically be promoted one rank, and so would all of his black belts.
My instructor wasn't impressed, and he left the organization, and, you know what? I didn't care one bit. Somewhere in between the pair of arts that I had studied I had lost my awe for beautiful pieces of paper, and had gained an appreciation for art that works.
It's been many years since that time, and, as an instructor, I find that it irks me that students are concerned with rank. As one who could be accused of rapidly joining the ranks of old farts, I see the importance of goal motivation, but I also see the young becoming obsessed with social status to the neglect of workability. And when one of these young students presses my buttons on this matter I'll inform him, "rank is to help me order the class, not for you to impress your friends.
At any rate, I was studying what I thought had to be the best art in the world, and I was studying under a person who I just knew was the deadliest man to ever walk the face of the planet. After all, the other instructors all told me he was just unbeatable, and he even had trophies in the window! How could I consider doubting?
One day I was talking to a green belt who had joined our school just recently, but who had known my instructor for years. "Look," he said, pointing at a certificate on the wall, "there's my name." And sure enough, there was his name, and it was attesting to my instructor's certificate of rank!
Some time after that I was studying a form of Korean karate--sorry, there wasn't any real tae kwon do back then, and the tae kwon do that there was used pinans/heians in their curriculum. This art was also taught by a fellow surrounded by rumor. This time I looked at the teacher instead of the certificate, and ended up staying.
As time went on and I made the journey up to black belt I received these ornate, beautiful certificates with original Korean writing and a real chop. When I received my black belt certificate, however, all I got was just a shoddy piece of paper with bad handwriting. My instructor explained it away with, "Oh, I left that organization. Had to create some certificates of my own."
Curious, having the funny feeling that there was something more to the story, I asked one of the assistant instructors what the skinny was. The true story, according to that fellow, was that a couple of young Koreans came in one day and told my instructor that the organization he belonged to was being absorbed by another organization, so he would have to come along, and if he did so he would automatically be promoted one rank, and so would all of his black belts.
My instructor wasn't impressed, and he left the organization, and, you know what? I didn't care one bit. Somewhere in between the pair of arts that I had studied I had lost my awe for beautiful pieces of paper, and had gained an appreciation for art that works.
It's been many years since that time, and, as an instructor, I find that it irks me that students are concerned with rank. As one who could be accused of rapidly joining the ranks of old farts, I see the importance of goal motivation, but I also see the young becoming obsessed with social status to the neglect of workability. And when one of these young students presses my buttons on this matter I'll inform him, "rank is to help me order the class, not for you to impress your friends.
About the Author:
Al Case has over forty plus+ years Martial practice. Check out the Master Instructor Course at Monster Martial Arts. Grab a totally unique version of this article from the Uber Article Directory
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