“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers”1
Study, practice, research, and then study, practice, research, and so on over and over again. Holy cow, it’s practically a job! But we just want to have fun!
It sure is a job for many of us. It is a profession with which we pay rent and various bills (ah the money, agony, and ecstasy of teaching martial arts, but I will be back in another post). Therefore for us professionals, it is normal to commit ourselves, study, practice, etc. It’s our job and, I hope, our passion. But for everyone else? For those who “just want to have fun”? Well, here the question becomes slippery, especially today when we have little time, and the time we have usually we use badly. The truth is that if we want to practice martial arts we have to dedicate ourselves. We must be sure that we want to invest our precious time in practicing a discipline that requires constant commitment. Not so funny huh?
Once, before fully becoming part of the dojo family it could take more than a year, during which the aspiring students were tested. Consistency and seriousness were tried and, those who showed that they really wanted to learn, were welcomed into the school. To be clear it is not that in that “trial period” the students did not participate in the life of the dojo and were not taught anything, far from it. However, senior teachers wanted to make sure they were investing their time in pupils who were genuinely interested in learning. Today when we enter a dojo that kind of attitude is gone. Times have changed and we with them.
I’m sorry to say, but learning a martial art is not like going to the gym, or training at one of the many fitness classes that are offered around. It’s not just about getting fit or learning self-defense (whatever that means). It’s something different, and here the duties come into play.
But what duties are there in learning martial arts? Too often I hear experienced pupils and, unfortunately, also teachers who complain that the “new students” or the “new generations” do not want to commit themselves. That in the old days it was different, there was more desire to sacrifice, etc. I think you understand what I mean. Well, that’s not quite the case. Net of those who really don’t care about learning and who mistake the dojo for any fitness center, the others are, or rather would be, interested in really practicing and studying. And at this point whose responsibility is it? Of the students who know nothing, or ours that, instead of teaching, we just grumble and complain?
We, teachers and senior students, have a responsibility to welcome and explain to new ones how things work in the dojo. That it is not just a matter of making a few bows (and often someone does not even know how to do it or why) or wearing a uniform that, at least in the case of the iaido, makes anyone elegant, not to mention the chance to handle a sword… We have the primary responsibility to teach these things from day one, without being pedantic or indulging in a badly placed sense of superiority.
I would not like to make risky comparisons, but joining a dojo is like joining a club. You know one of those nice English clubs with oak walls, and upholstered armchairs, more or less distinct or extravagant2 members, and where you can become an affiliate only by introduction or co-option? Here, that stuff. Just like in clubs, in the dojo there are roles and rules that we need to know to really be a part of it. These rules will distinguish us in everyday life, certainly not the fact of being able to perform a flying kick or slice someone with a katana. Being part of it is not for everyone, and is not a question of social rank, gender, religion, age, ethnicity, or cooptation. It is a question of interest and curiosity that, thanks to the help of the “old hands”, can be transformed into a constant and continuous commitment over time.
- “Henry V”, Act 4 Scene 3. William Shakespeare (around 1599).
- As the Drones Club described in the books of P.G. Wodehouse, or the Diogenes Club present in some of the Sherlock Holmes short stories.