Some thoughts on the impermanence of training – the eternal plight of the karate dojo

You’d think after almost 40 years, I’d be used to it. The ebb and flow, the come and go of the dojo. Students start. Students stop. Young. Old. Beginners. Seniors.

Life is change.

I’ve left different dojo for different reasons. I’ve left associations for different reasons. So what is it I am not picking up – what can I not get through my own thick skull about others making the same sorts of decisions. I know I am not special and immune from the change happening to me. As I take stock of my experiences over the decades, two points come to mind: when I left, I always spoke to my sensei to explain why. But before I left, I had tried to find every possible reason why I should stay.

So when people leave me, what is it that gets me?

It’s not a money issue that bugs me. The dojo is non-profit and I do not get a wage for my time.

It’s not an ego issue. If people leave because they don’t like me, there’s little I can do.

If it’s a facilities issue – again, not much I can do. I would love to have my own space, but such is the way it is.

But people leave, fact of life. Changes in finances. Changes in family situations. Changes in job. Change. And with most change, something has to give. If you don’t fit with the change, well, you don’t last.

My concern has always been – did you seek to find a way to make the dojo part of the change? Or did you simply change and cut the dojo out without a second thought. Don’t get me wrong, I am not looking to run anyone’s life, but I am a firm believer that there’s always a way to keep training. 

There’s always a reason to keep training.

Lost your job? You need focus – and my floors need cleaning. So, maybe offer to help out a bit down the dojo til you get back on your feet.

Have an addition to the family? Well, you need an outlet for the added stress that the new bundle of joy will provide. Maybe you come once a week or every couple of weeks? And we see if we can adjust your fees accordingly?

Have a change in job schedule? Well, come when you can. If you can. Or come talk to me about 1-1 classes.

Moving? OK, how can I help you find a new dojo (sorry, I can’t move with you :) ).

I recently wrote a post on the dojo’s website about karate being for everyone but not everyone can do karate. The message is more for the folks who have not started yet. It is not meant to weed people out (but it might), it is simply meant as a realistic look at how some people may not always approach karate in a realistic fashion.

For senior students or more advanced folk, I have found the reason for not training is not always the one that I am given. I get it that people get busy; hell, I am pretty busy myself. But what I find is that there are a handful of reasons why people choose to leave, the two biggest being:

• They’re not where they want to be/ where they think they should be.
• They can’t see how they can keep training.

I understand both of these. But again, I think these folks still missed the point of training.

The first group is likely dealing with an issue of discouragement or disillusionment. Been there. Felt that. So, here’s what I did when I was there – I talked to my instructors. I did not always like what I heard (some of it was pure politics in nature, but that is a blog post for another time), but that which did make sense – and did offer me an opportunity to change personal outcomes – kept me going. So if you’re upset that you did not get a nod to grade, ask the question “what am I missing/ what do I need to work on.” I will tell you what I see and offer you advice on what you need to do to get to where you are. And even if you are not in my dojo, I am willing to bet that if your is anything like me, they will be willing to tell you the same things.

The folks in the second camp have missed the important lesson from training – enduring. Life is hard. It is full of stressors, setbacks, disappointments and the like. It has all sorts of turns, hills and valleys. No one’s life is a flat path. But if training is important to you – if it is a part of you – then you should not stop. When I lost my policing career in 1999, I was trashed. I felt hopeless. I was severely depressed (and eventually diagnosed with PTSD – again another story for another blog, somewhere else J ). I did not want to deal with or be with people. But I did not back away from training. I almost quit in 2004; but I had people close to me talk me out of it (thank goodness!). But, when I had those moments, I talked to my seniors and peers – and I found a way to keep training. It wasn’t always pretty. And it was damn hard to keep putting on the belt and keep moving, but I did it.

So, for those who give up for either of those reasons, I accept that things have changed – feelings, circumstances, etc. But, I have to ask – what steps did you take to reconcile the changes at the level of the dojo? Did you let your instructor know you were quitting and why? Or did you just stop training? What process did you use to determine this was the best option?

Long after I left teaching, I came across students who left French Immersion who lamented leaving the program at some point when it got hard – usually early on in high school. The standard comment was usually, “I wish I would have stuck it out” or “I really wish I would have tried harder.” Oddly enough, I hear the same thing from karateka who have left and then sought to come back. To them I say, “the door is never closed.”

So, will I throw myself in front of an exiting student and plead with them not to leave? Probably not. 

But students are like family, so I will mourn the loss of that person being on the floor, working their hardest. But as long as people still keep coming to train, the dojo will still be there. Some new people. Some old. There will always be change. I accept the good change that happens in the dojo – when new students start training and the advanced students move up.

I am never fully convinced the other change – the loss of a good student – is entirely necessary.