General State of Affairs

Whew.

If I access this site, and see that it has been a couple of weeks since I last posted anything, I know I’ve been busy. Of course, I long ago promised myself that I wouldn’t pressure myself to adhere to a schedule when updating this blog; still, I enjoy the dialogue this blog seems to generate (at least on occassion). This time around, rather than focus on one particular idea or issue, I thought I’d write out a sort of general state of affairs for the dojo and myself.

In two days, Aikido Kokikai South Everett will be two months old. I am stunned to think that, 10 weeks ago, we started with a lot of ideas and a big empty warehouse. Now, we have a dojo with nearly 1000 square feet of mat space, 22-foot ceilings (very handy for jo kata!), a dedicated room that we are renting to massage therapists and naturopaths, a waiting area in which there is plenty of room for guests and parents to relax and have tea while students train… essentially, it has become the type of dojo that I had hoped we would create.

The Grand Re-Opening

The other weekend, we held a “Grand Re-Opening Party” to meet our neighbors and to thank all of the people–students, family members, and friends–who have helped make this dojo a reality. Personally, I was amazed at how many people arrived. I think there was close to 60 to 70 people. The mat was filled with children at play, and their laughter echoed throughout the space almost endlessly. To be honest, it was almost too much of a party for me to handle. I’m much happier at parties when I can sit in a corner and chat with folks quietly. Not this time–it was very much as if the universe said: “Time to mingle!” It was a randori of graciousness–moving from person to person, making sure in the few moments I had with each guest know how much I appreciated their presence. (I think the only other time I felt like that was at my wedding!) I would like to think that Sensei Maruyama would be very pleased to see the positive effects Kokikai has had in such a short time; I was filled with gratitude towards him and all of the other Kokikai teachers that I have learned from than I could ever express.

Teaching and more teaching

Now that the celebration is out of the way, we’ve returned to our daily focus on training. I must admit: at first I found my new teaching schedule to be quite daunting. Now, however, I think I have adjusted pretty well. In fact, I’m starting to view any practice time that is less than 2 hours to be very short. (For those who wonder at this: at our previous location, we could only train for an hour a day, three days a week. We now have classes 5 days a week, with me teaching roughly 2 to 3 hours each evening.) We have an opportunity now to really dive deep into techniques; lately, I’ve picked one technique and spent the entire week on it, which ensures that everyone gets a chance to at least experience the technique, and those who can train more often really get to pick the technique apart and look at it in detail. It has been an exhilerating experience.

A Look at the Numbers

One of the hardest aspects of opening the dojo was acknowledging that, at some level, it has to run as a business. I do not teach full-time, so I do not need the dojo to support my family. At first, I thought I’d set the goal to be: “The dojo has to pay for itself.” However, I think that is a little short-sighted. After all, what happens when the dojo does pay for itself? Instead, I now have several goals:

1. Stage One: Generate enough income to have the dojo pay for itself, including paying down/off the initial startup expenses.
2. Stage Two: Generate enough income to pay for my own aikido related expenses, such as equipment, seminars, and so on.
3. Stage Three: Generate enough income to support a part-time instructor.

I figure that, by the time I hit stage three, we’ll have grown to the point where we may need to move into a larger facility, so there’s no need to think that far ahead… yet.

I’m very pleased to say that we are well on our way to accomplishing stage one. I won’t go into specifics here (I don’t think it’s necessary) but I will say that the dojo is now covering nearly all of the monthly bills. And I am excluding the revenue we get from renting out the massage room and for the creative dance classes that are taught in the mornings (when we don’t have aikido classes, of course). I’m quite surprised–we have far exceeded my initial projections at the two-month mark. I am not taking this for granted, however: as a business, we need a constant focus on growth.

While revenue is important, it is not the only goal I have. The whole reason for opening the dojo into its own space was to share Sensei Maruyama’s Kokikai Aikido with as many people as possible. To that end, I’m pleased to say that we have grown over 100% since we moved from the YMCA. In a couple of months, I hope to do a write up on the different ways we chose to advertise, and how/if those advertising methods were effective. I will say this: nothing makes me happier than seeing a mat full of enthusiastic aikidoka!

Wrapping Up

I think this hodge-podge post has gone on long enough. But I can’t end it without saying again how grateful I am to Sensei Maruyama and all of the teachers who have helped put me where I am today. When I have time, I’ll certainly post some photos of our current practice!

6th Kyu

In Kokikai Aikido, the first adult/teen rank that you test for is 6th kyu. Like any other martial art, your first test is less about technique than a student might think. After all, you likely have been training for only a couple of months. In that time, there is simply no way to have integrated the techniques into your mind and body. For this reason, we often say that student’s should shoot for “recognizable” technique. I’ve always interpreted this to mean that the student demonstrates they understand at the very least they are studying aikido (as opposed to another martial art), and that their movements are a rough approximation of what we have studied in class. More than technique, I find the 6th kyu test to be the first public demonstration of what you have been learning. So the test is at least as much about standing up in front of a group of people and applying techniques and principles under pressure, as it about the actual technique itself.

With that said, I’ve still been thinking a lot about the ramifications of the first few techniques you’re asked to demonstrate. In future tests, we state that the test requirements include “all previous techniques” plus any new ones. That means you can and should expect to demonstrate a technique from an earlier test. When you test for shodan, you can pretty much be sure that you will show techniques from almost any of your previous kyu tests. Combine this with the fact that a healthy dojo has new students stepping on the mat each month, and you can start to see there is some very significant impacts on what topics, as an instructor, you should cover.

When I was moving up the ranks, I looked at the 6th kyu test requirements as beginning techniques. But they are not. The word beginning was incorrect, or at least incomplete. Better terms would be basic, core, or fundamental. We don’t require them on the 6th kyu test because they are easy; we require them because they should form the foundation of all other techniques and strategies that you study. I started to unconsciously understand this idea when I began teaching; but lately I’ve started trying to articulate it in an effort to refine how I present ideas in class. I’m realizing that these 6th kyu test requirements need to be studied with greater frequency. Not every class needs or should be about these techniques, but they should be covered often enough so that any new student coming in is ready to demonstrate the technique within a couple of months.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I have always seen test requirements as a training tool. Now, however, I see them as a teaching tool. By looking at the progressive difficulty of the test requirements, I have a solid roadmap that should greatly help my students improve their proficiency in technique and their understanding of aikido principles. It’s a realization of the obvious, akin to walking along a road, and suddenly realizing the road you are on is paved. You’ve known this at some level all along, but it only just reached your conscious mind.

I have a newfound appreciation for a solid testing system; it ensures the quality of training and instruction.

Martial Arts and Family

One of my students, as well as my wife, pointed out to this article on MSN. The article is a short discussion regarding how martial arts training is not only good for kids, but good for families in general. Even if the family in question takes different classes, the fact that they are all together and studying the same thing gives them an opportunity to deepen their relationships. I enjoyed the article (though it is far too short) until I reached the very end. At that point, the article attempts to recommend different martial arts depending on the type of child: shy, male, female, and so forth.

Now, I’m sure the author of the article had the best of intentions. After all, there are a great many martial arts out there: how is a parent or child supposed to figure out which art is right for them? When I began training, I was told to visit lots of different martial arts schools, so I could get a sense of what would be best for me. But as a parent, I know that such a research effort is a difficult task for any family to undertake. However, picking aikido because your child is “shy,” or karate because you think you want to focus on the workout isn’t the best means of selecting a martial arts school. I’m sure there are plenty of kids who were shy before they got into karate, and I know that a lot of my students joined aikido because they liked the workout.

So how do you choose a martial art?

In truth, I think the answer is: you don’t. You don’t choose a martial art, you choose a dojo, a school. The atmosphere you encounter when you walk into a dojo for the first time should start to tell you everything you need to know about whether that particular school is going to be right for you and your family. Here are a few things I consider:

• Is the dojo clean? The cleanliness of the dojo wasn’t important to me when I was in college (cleanliness in general wasn’t that important, for that matter); however, as a dad, it became extremely important when my daughter began crawling around. A good dojo, in my opinion, should be clean but not devoid of character. In other words, think of the lobby at a fine hotel. When you walk in, it is clean and comfortable; but also welcoming. A retail store, on the other hand, is almost certainly clean, but so sterile that it is impersonal.
• Is there room for visitors and guests? If you’re a parent, odds are you’ll spend at least some of your time at the dojo even if you’re not training. You might even have other children with you. Is there room for you to wait comfortably? Or are you going to spend every hour your child is training sitting in a chair off in a corner?
• How do the current students look on the mat? Are they training hard, but having fun? Is there an atmosphere of camraderie, or one of competition? Neither one is better than the other, necessarily–but you might prefer one to the other.
• What is the instructor like? This is a critical question. Is the instructor personable? Does he or she look like they have earned the respect of their students? Do they greet you at any point during your visit? Don’t look at just the chief instructor; look at the other instructors that might be teaching class. After all these are the people from whom you and your family are learning a martial art. They need to be someone that you think you can learn from. Is the instructor explaining things in a way that you understand?

If you find a dojo in which you feel comfortable from the moment you enter, where there is ample room for guests to observe class, where the students look like they are working hard and enjoying it, where the instructors seem like people who know what they are talking about and are explaining things in ways that you understand–then you’ve more than likely found a place in which you and your family will have a positive training experience.

(And don’t worry about whether the martial art is “better” than another: if a dojo meets the requirements I’ve outlined above, they more than likely have something worthwhile to teach you. I don’t think you’ll ever really know which martial art is perfect for you or your family until you get on the mat and try it for a time. But that’s a discussion for another time…)