There are a great many benefits to martial arts training,
and perhaps the most difficult aspect of communicating the love of martial arts
to a non-practitioner is that most of those dividends are not easily
demonstrable or quantifiable.
So, we have grade and rank testing. In those situations, we can measure the
partially unmeasurable. It’s not
perfect, but it is traditional in the best possible way. It’s also a very specific aspect of the
overall training paradigm in the traditional martial arts—a public
demonstration of techniques, fitness, and toughness in a situation infused with
just enough pressure to make it worthwhile.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure to call a kyu test (those of
you studying Korean arts, insert “keup,” “kup,” or “gup” for kyu.), or a
color-belt test. Yesterday’s test was
particularly interesting in that it was entirely populated by white belts
testing to 8th kyu yellow belt, our first solid-colored belt (some
of the dojo in the organization also use a 9th kyu yellow-stripe
belt before the solid yellow. Minor
differences in segmentation of the first groupings of techniques, but the end
result is the same). The main reason I
think this is particularly tough is simply because there aren’t higher-ranking
kyu grades on the floor with them.
Uncertainty, I have found, is one of the major anxieties associated with
martial arts training. In this case, the
first test anxiety lives in thoughts like, “I don’t know what to do,” “I don’t know if I know my material
well-enough,” “what if I don’t pass,” among many others. These fears, like most “real world” fears, if
we’re being absolutely honest, are typically built-up in the mind. At Athens Yoshukai (and AKF Athens as well!),
students aren’t invited to test unless they are prepared to give a successful
showing. It’s repeated so often it
almost sounds like another organizational maxim, but it’s true. Sometimes tests don’t necessarily coincide
with our best “karate days,” but when we show our best spirit in technique day
after day in class, it doesn’t take a fortune-teller to know how a test is
likely to pan out.
One of my favorite aspects of watching white belts in their
first kyu grade test happens about 10 minutes into the test. After a few techniques have been completed,
the almost across-the-board uncertainty is replaced with this disciplined
focus. In other words, they put their “war
face” on. I love seeing people’s war
face. It’s just fantastic. Even though they may not notice it happening,
the long-term martial artist is making his presence known. We’re all different, and we bring different
native strengths to the table. There are
plenty of people who won’t necessarily be the strongest, fastest, or most
flexible person in the room. And that’s
fine—our bodies give us certain long-range natural boundaries. But, we can be stronger, faster, and more
flexible. Those are the gifts focused,
dedicated training gives to us. But,
going back to the war face, on any given day, any one of us can be the toughest
in the room. That’s right—I believe toughness
is a decision. And more often than not,
the first kyu test is one of the earliest places that a beginning martial
artist decides to be tough. And, if they
let it, it will turbo charge their training as they move through the color-belt
ranks.
So, back to yesterday’s test: The interesting duality of grade testing is
that although there are common elements to the performance of pretty much any
test, each test period is as unique as the group that makes it up. Most likely, that exact combination of people
won’t test under the same circumstances again.
There might be others added to the mix, or it might be a smaller
test. However you slice it, the
personnel involved will change. Yesterday’s
test was interesting in that we got to see glimpses of some deeper
understanding of basic techniques, which doesn’t always happen with white
belts. Some of the kicks had unusually
precise targeting, and there was some occasional snap to punches and blocks
that was exciting to see starting to develop at the beginning level.
I was also quite impressed with breaking, which is another
aspect of testing that is often riddled with anxiety. To be honest, I don’t always find the
precise, first-shot break to be the most impressive display with breaking. It is impressive, yes, and it is the
best-case scenario. What I’m most impressed
with is the will required to CRUSH it after a couple of missed attempts. That’s toughness, and I saw that happen a
couple of times yesterday. It always
makes me smile.
So, another test has come and gone, and the training cycle
continues with new material, new forms, and new expectations for earlier
material—if you’re willing to commit, it’s the show that never ends! The gamer in me sees martial arts testing as
one of the few ways we actually get to “level up” in real life, and that’s just
plain fun.
