"The One before"
I read an article on the the good, bad and ugly of coaching in the Edmonton Journal today. I found it to be a very well-written and very timely piece as it does bring up some valid points about the direction that organized sport seems to be going in Canada. I found it to be relevant to karate since karate instructors can be seen to a large degree as coaches. The key difference is that while most coaches try to develop individual participants in a team setting, karate instructors do so with each student working individually. Regardless of whether the path is of a traditional or sport nature, the instructor should still be striving to influence the student's life both inside and outside of the dojo.
You will notice that I am using the word instructor here rather than the word sensei. The word sensei does not fit with the ideal or notion of what or who a coach is. A sensei's role goes beyond the role of coach in many ways. The word sensei is mistakenly translated by many as 'teacher''; however, many professionals, such as doctors, are also referred to as sensei. The literal translation of sensei is 'the one before' or 'the one who came before'. The role of sensei is one which is not undertaken lightly; it begins in that moment on the floor as students bow in, and the words 'onegai shimasu' are exchanged. Roughly translated, onegai shimasu means "please help me' or 'I make a request'. The exchange of promises made is the bond between student and teacher, deshi and sensei. It goes beyond mere instruction of physical techniques; it becomes an indelible bond which trascends western relationship notions of family, friendship or mentoring. Sensei replaces none of these but becomes all of these.
Our western cultural image of sensei was forever changed by two figures- the kindly old Asian teacher embodied by Mr. Miyagi, and the tyrannical 'win at all costs' ideology of John Kreese, the protagonist and antagonist teachers in the movie The Karate Kid. People remember the teachings of "wax on, wax off" or 'sweep the leg. No mercy". The more subtler notions of what was said or not said, taught yet not taught. The movie remains in the minds of many people as a caricature for what karate is or isn't. They see karate as fighting; those who teach are sometimes suspect as being subtly violent folk. While there is no way to sweepingly categorize all karate instructors as good people, to contrarily paint them as violent goons or thugs or those intent on creating bad attitudes in their charges is equally wrong.
The Japanese connotation of sensei, as noted, does not specifically imply one to be a teacher. Further, for the Japanese, the word has taken on a pejorative meaning. For my time in Japan, I recognized that many Japanese would identify myself and other caucasians as 'Eigo no sensei' (English teacher) without even knowing us. Said in a sing-song fashion, it is not meant to be polite. For their own, they also use the word to identify those whose ego has comsumed them to manic proportions. Particular use of the title is used with great disdain when referring to their own (Japanese) who lead charismatic or cult-like groups.
The role of sensei is not automatic, and it is not something conferred upon receipt of black belt. Truly, when one is promoted to the rank of shodan, one has only begun to learn karate. They join the ranks of yudansha (black belt). They may be referred to as sempai denoting their relationship to mudansha (non-black belt students). Every dojo has one sensei; that is the person whose title of dojo head is defined by the very word. He teaches all whether the teaching is done directly or indirectly. In Japan, some sensei I saw and trained with would not necessarily teach the class, but would demonstrate the technique and leave the students to practice. They would mull about, correcting or offering insight, occasionally grunting approval or disdain for application as displayed. However, many see the acquisition of shodan as a license to teach- but teach what? You have limited knowledge of the skill it takes, having previously been on the other side of the floor. Perhaps you ran warm-up drills for your class, perhaps you barked out numbers for people doing floor drills. These mere verbal skills do not a sensei make. The rank of shodan does not give you an automatic power of wise and knowledgeable dispenser of martial platitudes.
It is a sad fact that many schools do not have a 'sensei development' program. Those that do recognize the importance of harnessing the skills within people and making them reflect on both the learning and teaching aspects inherent in being a true sensei. It is an issue of sharing knowledge, offering insight into applying karate not only only the floor but into daily life, and reflecting on the transactions that occur within the dojo during that important time that follows that pivotal exchange of the words onegai shimasu. Key as well is the imparting of the realization that the title of sensei is not one that is bestowed upon the instructor. It is one that is earned. When the first person comes through the door of your dojo, you are not yet a sensei. If that person returns for a second class, and a third, and a fourth, and so on- then and only then are you a sensei. Without students, there is no such thing as a teacher. To address oneself as sensei is a martial faux-pas as well. To do so places one into the cult of personality that the Japanese infer when sarcastically calling someone 'sensei'.
"Oni te hotoke kokoro" defines the essence of a good karate-ka. Hand of a demon, heart of a saint is describes the actions or spirit of true karate practitioners. Sensei are not magical people whose lives are unaffected by the afflictions which hamper the lives of the normal human being. If anything, sensei has seen the troubles of life close up. They make mistakes like the rest of the population. They have weaknesses and afflictions. They feel emotion. They do not have all the answers and cannot stop speeding bullets. They will not necessarily come to your aid if you are attacked by a roving gang of rival karate students. Nor will they be able to make the aches and pains, physical, emotional or spiritual, of life disappers miraculously. What they can do is offer you a sympathetic ear, lend advice, support or a shoulder to cry on when life goes awry. They will lovingly admonish you when you mess up, they will encourage you when you need it most. They will also be there to celebrate your successes and mourn your losses.
In my thirty years of karate and my twenty plus years of teaching, it is my one sad regret to have never had a student promoted to shodan. I came close with at least two brown belts, but that elusive student who would carry on under me is yet to have appeared. In my first years of teaching karate, I made mistakes both as a teacher and a student. I would like to think that I learned from those mistakes as I grew older. I still make mistakes both on and off the floor, just different ones. I know in my time on the floor that I have given my students both past and present solid instruction to be not only good karate-ka but good people as well.
The major differences between sensei and student are time and perspective. You are, as the title you hold dictates, the one who came before'; you need to remember that you once held that place and that your experiences on that side of the floor, good and bad, made you who you are today. You need to honour the positive aspects of the teachings that your sensei imparted to you; you also need to excise the negative aspects, if any, imparted to you through your sensei. The experience is of learning and growth, not self-aggrandizement and power. The goal of any sensei is to help people overcome self-limitation, to harness their abilities and develop greater potential. It is or should be the goal of any sensei to help their students surpass them not only in their abilities as karate-ka, but in their ability to demonstrate the applications of the principles of karate in their daily lives. They should live to outshine their sensei in their displays of trust, faith, compassion, understanding and love. They should also be prepared to one day take up the effort with their own students and become sensei in their own right- with the same goals and intentions in mind. These are entrenched the moment that those two words are spoken at the beginning of class. The begin anew every time the words onegai shimasu are exchanged.
In my view, this should be the goal and aspiration of sensei. It is what differentiates sensei from the role of a 'karate coach'.
The article on coaching can be found here.
This essay was written by Robert Dalgelish Sensei, one of the 'fathers'of Canadian karate. Google him to read about his very inspiring, yet tragically short path on karate.
You will notice that I am using the word instructor here rather than the word sensei. The word sensei does not fit with the ideal or notion of what or who a coach is. A sensei's role goes beyond the role of coach in many ways. The word sensei is mistakenly translated by many as 'teacher''; however, many professionals, such as doctors, are also referred to as sensei. The literal translation of sensei is 'the one before' or 'the one who came before'. The role of sensei is one which is not undertaken lightly; it begins in that moment on the floor as students bow in, and the words 'onegai shimasu' are exchanged. Roughly translated, onegai shimasu means "please help me' or 'I make a request'. The exchange of promises made is the bond between student and teacher, deshi and sensei. It goes beyond mere instruction of physical techniques; it becomes an indelible bond which trascends western relationship notions of family, friendship or mentoring. Sensei replaces none of these but becomes all of these.
Our western cultural image of sensei was forever changed by two figures- the kindly old Asian teacher embodied by Mr. Miyagi, and the tyrannical 'win at all costs' ideology of John Kreese, the protagonist and antagonist teachers in the movie The Karate Kid. People remember the teachings of "wax on, wax off" or 'sweep the leg. No mercy". The more subtler notions of what was said or not said, taught yet not taught. The movie remains in the minds of many people as a caricature for what karate is or isn't. They see karate as fighting; those who teach are sometimes suspect as being subtly violent folk. While there is no way to sweepingly categorize all karate instructors as good people, to contrarily paint them as violent goons or thugs or those intent on creating bad attitudes in their charges is equally wrong.
The Japanese connotation of sensei, as noted, does not specifically imply one to be a teacher. Further, for the Japanese, the word has taken on a pejorative meaning. For my time in Japan, I recognized that many Japanese would identify myself and other caucasians as 'Eigo no sensei' (English teacher) without even knowing us. Said in a sing-song fashion, it is not meant to be polite. For their own, they also use the word to identify those whose ego has comsumed them to manic proportions. Particular use of the title is used with great disdain when referring to their own (Japanese) who lead charismatic or cult-like groups.
The role of sensei is not automatic, and it is not something conferred upon receipt of black belt. Truly, when one is promoted to the rank of shodan, one has only begun to learn karate. They join the ranks of yudansha (black belt). They may be referred to as sempai denoting their relationship to mudansha (non-black belt students). Every dojo has one sensei; that is the person whose title of dojo head is defined by the very word. He teaches all whether the teaching is done directly or indirectly. In Japan, some sensei I saw and trained with would not necessarily teach the class, but would demonstrate the technique and leave the students to practice. They would mull about, correcting or offering insight, occasionally grunting approval or disdain for application as displayed. However, many see the acquisition of shodan as a license to teach- but teach what? You have limited knowledge of the skill it takes, having previously been on the other side of the floor. Perhaps you ran warm-up drills for your class, perhaps you barked out numbers for people doing floor drills. These mere verbal skills do not a sensei make. The rank of shodan does not give you an automatic power of wise and knowledgeable dispenser of martial platitudes.
It is a sad fact that many schools do not have a 'sensei development' program. Those that do recognize the importance of harnessing the skills within people and making them reflect on both the learning and teaching aspects inherent in being a true sensei. It is an issue of sharing knowledge, offering insight into applying karate not only only the floor but into daily life, and reflecting on the transactions that occur within the dojo during that important time that follows that pivotal exchange of the words onegai shimasu. Key as well is the imparting of the realization that the title of sensei is not one that is bestowed upon the instructor. It is one that is earned. When the first person comes through the door of your dojo, you are not yet a sensei. If that person returns for a second class, and a third, and a fourth, and so on- then and only then are you a sensei. Without students, there is no such thing as a teacher. To address oneself as sensei is a martial faux-pas as well. To do so places one into the cult of personality that the Japanese infer when sarcastically calling someone 'sensei'.
"Oni te hotoke kokoro" defines the essence of a good karate-ka. Hand of a demon, heart of a saint is describes the actions or spirit of true karate practitioners. Sensei are not magical people whose lives are unaffected by the afflictions which hamper the lives of the normal human being. If anything, sensei has seen the troubles of life close up. They make mistakes like the rest of the population. They have weaknesses and afflictions. They feel emotion. They do not have all the answers and cannot stop speeding bullets. They will not necessarily come to your aid if you are attacked by a roving gang of rival karate students. Nor will they be able to make the aches and pains, physical, emotional or spiritual, of life disappers miraculously. What they can do is offer you a sympathetic ear, lend advice, support or a shoulder to cry on when life goes awry. They will lovingly admonish you when you mess up, they will encourage you when you need it most. They will also be there to celebrate your successes and mourn your losses.
In my thirty years of karate and my twenty plus years of teaching, it is my one sad regret to have never had a student promoted to shodan. I came close with at least two brown belts, but that elusive student who would carry on under me is yet to have appeared. In my first years of teaching karate, I made mistakes both as a teacher and a student. I would like to think that I learned from those mistakes as I grew older. I still make mistakes both on and off the floor, just different ones. I know in my time on the floor that I have given my students both past and present solid instruction to be not only good karate-ka but good people as well.
The major differences between sensei and student are time and perspective. You are, as the title you hold dictates, the one who came before'; you need to remember that you once held that place and that your experiences on that side of the floor, good and bad, made you who you are today. You need to honour the positive aspects of the teachings that your sensei imparted to you; you also need to excise the negative aspects, if any, imparted to you through your sensei. The experience is of learning and growth, not self-aggrandizement and power. The goal of any sensei is to help people overcome self-limitation, to harness their abilities and develop greater potential. It is or should be the goal of any sensei to help their students surpass them not only in their abilities as karate-ka, but in their ability to demonstrate the applications of the principles of karate in their daily lives. They should live to outshine their sensei in their displays of trust, faith, compassion, understanding and love. They should also be prepared to one day take up the effort with their own students and become sensei in their own right- with the same goals and intentions in mind. These are entrenched the moment that those two words are spoken at the beginning of class. The begin anew every time the words onegai shimasu are exchanged.
In my view, this should be the goal and aspiration of sensei. It is what differentiates sensei from the role of a 'karate coach'.
The article on coaching can be found here.
This essay was written by Robert Dalgelish Sensei, one of the 'fathers'of Canadian karate. Google him to read about his very inspiring, yet tragically short path on karate.
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