The familiar forms of the warm ups flowed through me and calmed my mind. The simple patterns, repeated over and over, brought a sense of peace to my jangled brain. There were no decisions to make here, no earth-shattering consequences. If you did a form wrong this time, next time you worked to do it better.
As we started lining up before beginning the warm-up routine, I saw two tall, fit men I didn’t recognize exit the locker rooms. One of them had dark brown hair and the other light brown. The one with dark brown hair seemed especially annoyed about something as he finished closing hisgiand tied his white belt around his waist, but they both laughed and joked as they went to step on the mats.
“Good morning, students!” I called out, getting everyone’s attention. In front of me was a sea of white with a rainbow swath of color.
Part of me cringed inside when both of our new students stepped on the mats without bowing. I glanced at Mama K and knew she had noticed it as well. Moira, our administrative assistant, usually vetted transfer students for us before they started a class, as well as doing orientation, but she had been out sick with a nasty stomach bug that week. We always reviewed the rules with new students, but sometimes people forgot.
“Class, I am Sensei Devereaux, and I’d like to take a moment to remind everyone about proper protocol when entering or leaving the mats of the dojo. We always bow to the senior instructor,” I turned and executed a bow to my mother, who stood at the front of the room. “Then we bow toward the flag.” I demonstrated the bow again, this time toward the U.S. flag that hung in the dojo. I waited for the students to follow suit.
Bowing was a gesture of respect, not just toward the instructor, but toward the training environment itself. It was the student acknowledging that they were there to learn, and that they understood and respected that this was an environment where there were others who knew more than they did but were willing to share their knowledge.
Once they had all bowed, including the two late additions, we continued the warm-up, and the lesson began in earnest. It became quickly apparent to me that the new additionsdidn’trespect the learning environment. They were a pair of “those” students. Students who thought they were better than everyone else and didn’t need to start at the bottom of the class. Students who felt they were wasting their time learning the basics. Students who were there to show off to their buddies, not really to learn.
I generally worked with the new students when they started in the dojo, learning their skill levels and determining the appropriate class level for them. We usually had students who were transferring from other dojos spend a week or two in an open class or the beginner class before placing them in the class their skills warranted. It allowed me the opportunity to really assess their skill level, as well as their maturity. The more mature students didn’t have a problem with spending time learning the dojokatasor demonstrating their level of discipline. The less mature students…Well, these two were prime examples.
After the third time Mama K or I had to correct their stance and redirect them back to the lesson at hand, the one man had apparently had enough.
“I don’t take orders from some Mexican bitch,” he sneered, looking down his nose at Mama K, who didn’t respond. “I’ve got a black belt at Golden Sun dojo. I don’t need to be doing this basic crap.”
Mama K looked him up and down and smiled calmly. I barely restrained myself at his insult. I know my mom had been called worse, but that didn’t mean I had to stand by and listen to it. Where did people come up with this macho, racist bullshit? Maybe there was a class I missed in junior high... We’d dealt with this kind of attitude before, though, and since I was supposed to be running this class, I stepped up.
“Cooper and Addison, right?” I asked, digging through my brain to dredge up their names from their application paperwork.
“Yep,” the one with the dark brown hair answered. He should have responded with “Yes, Sensei,” but I hadn’t really expected him to. Respect didn’t seem to be something these two understood.
Mama K clapped twice and without a spoken order, the rest of the class fell into a circle around the four of us and sat cross-legged on the floor. I saw Cooper’s buddy look around a little nervously as they were suddenly ringed by the twenty-some seated students. It could be unnerving to see the class move like that when you weren’t expecting it, but we’d been working with most of them for at least a few weeks. They understood when there was going to be a lesson.
“Okay, Cooper. Since you have such a high estimation of your skills, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sparring with Laurie, right?” I gestured for Laurie to stand and step forward.
Laurie grinned and hopped up from her cross-legged seat and came forward. She had been attending the dojo for almost three years now, and she was good. She was around average height with short blonde hair that made her look a good deal younger than her eighteen years. She held a second rank brown belt and would be testing for her black belt in the fall. Her father had come to us after she experienced a vicious mugging at a local mall and had been desperate to try and reestablish her feeling of security. Cooper towered over her, and I had a feeling this guy wouldn’t be able to resist showing off.
“She’s just a little girl,” he barked and laughed. “I want arealchallenge!”
He hopped around a bit on the balls of his feet, making a big show of doing a couple of roundhouse kicks and throwing a bunch of air punches. I almost laughed as he danced around. His stance wasn’t solid, and each time he punched he overextended himself. I was surprised he didn’t end up losing his balance and falling face first on the mats. I looked at Laurie, who looked back at me and grinned for just a moment before putting on her game face. She nodded solemnly at me. She had seen the same thing I had.
“I’ll tell you what, Cooper,” I said. “If you can spar five minutes with Lauriewithouther putting you on your ass, I’ll let you teach the rest of the class,” I offered. “If she lays you out, you will spend the rest of the class quietly observing, obeying the instructors, and being a model student. Agreed?”
I saw him size Laurie up, his eyes pausing on her brown belt. A slow grin crossed his face and he nodded smugly.
“Sure thing, Teach!” he agreed.
“It’s ‘Sensei,’” I interrupted him as he moved to where his friend was standing.
“Whatever…” he muttered, ignoring me.
Mama K gestured and the class spread out and moved to the edges of the mats to give the sparring partners room. I watched as Addison spoke in a hushed tone to his friend.
“Coop! Knock it off! I already lost my membership at one dojo, I don’t want to forfeit my deposit at another one!” Addison whined.
“Fuck off, Addy! I got this! She’s just a chick. I’ll deck her real gentle like, then teach ‘Sensei’ Devereaux who’s boss,” he growled, nodding at me as he continued to dance around on the mats.
If they had been kicked out of Golden Sun dojo, their attitudes made a lot more sense to me. Donny Martin ran Golden Sun, and he generally didn’t put up with a bunch of bullshit. Moira usually checked out any transfers, but with her being sick, I was betting something had slipped through the cracks. I stepped back and nodded at Laurie. She bowed to her opponent, who returned her bow sketchily, then they began sparring.
Cooper immediately let loose a volley of feints, punches and kicks, which Laurie blocked easily. I could tell that Cooper had received some good basic training in martial arts, but he certainly wasn’t ready for a red belt, much less a brown or black. He was too eager, spent too much time looking around the room to see who was watching him instead of keeping his eyes on his opponent.
I watched with approval as Laurie kept her gaze leveled on Cooper’s body, refusing to be distracted by his flurry of strikes. She kept her guard up, her shoulders level, and paid close attention to his chest, exactly like I’d trained her. The chest is the center of gravity for men, and most men will telegraph their moves with their body, as opposed to their fists. Women’s center of gravity tended to be in their pelvis and hips. Since their center of gravity was lower, it made them a lot sturdier and more difficult to take down.
Laurie blocked strike after strike, taking her time and letting him wear himself out on her defenses. I could see him growing more and more frustrated as he bounced around trying to land a hit. His face flushed and I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears as he continued sparring without result.
