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Public school teachers are dropping like flies, quitting the profession that they carefully trained for at a rate unlike anything we’ve ever seen. As I’ve seen this mass exodus of teachers, I’ve listened carefully to the complaints. One of the biggest ones is this: In public schools, now more than ever, it is nearly impossible to fail a student and hold them back, no matter how much it would benefit them and the teachers. This is devastating for the classroom. Let’s say there are 20 students in a class, and 5 of them are NOT ready to move on and learn new material. Instead of holding them back and helping them take extra time, teachers are forced to pass these students along with those who are actually prepared. The next year, a new teacher has a choice to make: do they cater to the more advanced students, and just accept that the less adept students won’t actually learn what they need, or will they focus on making sure those 5 students get caught up at the risk of making the other students bored and resentful? There are other issues too, of course. Administration allows parents and students to bully teachers into submission. Behavioral issues are often minimized or ignored. And . . .. Wait. Could there be a trend here? Teachers can’t say “No,” to passing students who shouldn’t pass. Teachers can’t say “Stop,” to students misbehaving and distracting others. Teachers can’t trust Administrators to say, “You aren’t the boss,” to entitled parents and students. (Not that all of them are entitled, mind you. But some of them are, and those ones aren’t held accountable.) A lack of legitimate standards and consistency of expectations has made it so teachers everywhere want to quit. When standards aren’t upheld–and when exceptions become the NORM instead of the exception–respect for the teacher goes down. How could it not? I’ve heard the same thing happening at dojos. Exceptions became norms. Standards lowered. Instructors promoted students simply because they were worried that the student (or parent) would be upset if they didn’t. I won’t let that happen here, and you shouldn’t either. EMBRACE OPPORTUNITIES TO FAIL, BECAUSE YOU WILL FACE THEM REGULARLY IN THIS DOJO. If everybody earns a Black Belt–no matter their qualifications–then the Black Belt ceases to be something you can be proud of. If you want to be promoted, stand out with your attitude. ACT like a Black Belt. Show up to classes, be eager to help, and jump at every opportunity. If not, act how you want. Others who want it more will soon pass you up, and I will be happy to help them. I won’t move you up just for the sake of helping you keep your place in the lineup. It would be a disservice to you, to me, and to the entire dojo. You CAN earn it. You just have to make the choice! 
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When most of us are promoted to a new belt, especially early in our martial arts journey, we focus on the accomplishment of it. It feels good to finally have your effort rewarded with a physical recognition of your growth.
But in our dojo, it is about so much more than that. A new belt is a privilege and accomplishment, yes, but more importantly it is a responsibility. As an upper rank in your class, you are now what they call in Japan a “Senpai” or “Upperclassman.” Senpai are looked up to by lower ranks, “Kohai,” in their class. As senpai, you are expected to demonstrate model behavior to the lower ranks. You all know by now that at the beginning and end of class, we have our students line up by rank. What I should see every time is that the students at the top of the line, my highest ranking students, should be setting the example for the rest. They have a responsibility to stand still and prove they are worthy of the rank they’ve been given. More has been given to them, and thus more is expected. Huh . . . it’s almost as if with great power comes great responsibility. Quick, somebody write that down! Our strength as a dojo in the culture we work to cultivate. Both of those words are rooted in the Latin word colere, which means, “to tend, to till the ground.” It’s referring to agriculture–perhaps mankind’s first experience with long-term investment and reward. Now, at the start of your martial arts journey, you will be primarily a consumer. You will eat the fruits of the laborers who came before you. But as you grow in wisdom and maturity, you will be expected to tend to the grounds yourself. You will learn the art of husbandry, not just so you can grow your own fruit, but so you can grow fruit for others as well. And then, the greatest privilege and responsibility of all, you can begin to teach others how to grow fruit for themselves. It is only with your help that we can continue this process of cultivating a culture of honor, respect, gratitude, and pride. As we work together for the common good of our school with excellence and eagerness, we can continue to benefit not only ourselves, but our community as well. We can leave a powerful legacy behind us. If only we are willing to reach out to those behind us, and give them a guiding hand. In a few days, I will be testing for my 3rd Dan Black Belt.
I am terrified. This is the culmination of over twenty years of training. Importantly, this is also the last belt in karate that I will actually test for. (4th Dan and beyond are all honorific ranks, based on accomplishments as an instructor rather than completing any test.) As my last test, I've found myself experiencing great anxiety. I've been a 2nd Dan for nearly seven years. The time requirement is only three years. Years ago, I told myself I wouldn't test until I was absolutely perfect for my next rank. So I put it off. And put it off. And put it off. Because I wasn't perfect. Finally, last year I set a firm date for March of 2026. No matter what. And even though I'm not perfect, and even though I might not pass, I'm sticking with it. Why? Because Perfection is overrated. We must instead pursue Excellence. If you wait for perfect circumstances to test for every belt, you're doing it wrong. You'll be waiting forever. We call it a test (or evaluation) for a REASON. It isn't MEANT to be a guarantee. Instead, we strive for excellence. Excellence is attainable, both in the short term and the long term. I expect Excellence from my students. But what exactly does Excellence look like? Rule #1: Excellence is humble. Don't confuse humble with ashamed. Humility is about refusing to ignore your shortcomings. Shame is about believing those shortcomings define your worth. "I realize that my push-ups are not where I want them to be." That is Humility. "My push-ups suck. And I suck. And I'm always going to suck." THAT is shame. Know the difference. Rule #2: Excellence is accountable. That means owning up to your actions (or inactions). Accountability is a special kind of bravery, and is tied deeply to humility. "I did not meet the goal for my run, and this is because I didn't prepare as much as I should have. If that costs me the promotion today, I accept that result and will try harder next time." THAT is accountability. Rule #3: Excellence is effortful. Attempting hard things--especially things you might fail at--is good for you (so long as it isn't also a stupid thing). "I'm going to try this with all my might, BECAUSE it is hard. Even if I fail, I will learn, and I will grow stronger." Rule #4: Excellence is earnest. Excellent people are sincere in their desire to improve AND to help others improve. Excellent people are genuine in their heart and in their demeanor. "I will try my best to help you." Rule #5: Excellence is ambitious. Excellent people set goals. They choose goals that are difficult, realistic, and time-specific. They don't laze about and wait for great things to come their way. They find a goal worth striving for and go for it. "I'm testing for my next belt in two months, whether I feel ready or not. This will act as a good incentive to train harder." Because, again, even if they fail, they will learn. (Are you sensing a theme here yet?) Rule #6: Excellence is patient. PATIENCE IS NOT THE ANTITHESIS OF AMBITION. THEY ARE COMPLIMENTARY ATTRIBUTES. Patience is not about laziness: it is about accepting what is not in your control. It is about emotional and mental discipline. "I will slow down so I don't burn out." Rule #7: Excellence is persevering. It is enduring through struggles with tenacity and grit. It is seeing things through and keeping commitments. "I joined the Black Belt Club and I won't give up until I've earned that Black Belt." Rule #8: Excellence is optimistic. Not arrogance. Optimism. It is believing in oneself and in others. "This kata is hard, but I know we are capable!" Rule #9: Excellence is Honorable. Excellent people behave with honesty and integrity. "I will not lie to Sensei in order to get the result I want." Rule #10: Excellence is Respectful. Excellent people treat others with respect by default. (Though let me be clear: respect can be lost. You never need to respect somebody truly abusive or cruel.) "I'm not happy that I wasn't promoted. But I respect the decision and trust they had a reason. I'll ask Sensei what I can improve." Rule #11: Excellence is Grateful. Excellent people express gratitude openly, generously, sincerely, and often. "Thank you for helping me with my kata today. I appreciate you." Rule #12: Excellence is Proud. Don't confuse this for the biblical "pride". That kind of pride is when you think yourself above others. The pride I'm referring to is pride in your fellow students, and pride in your progress. It is not comparing yourself to others. It is seeing and acknowledging the growth from your past self to your present self. It is seeing and acknowledging the growth of your comrades. "You worked so hard for that belt, and I've noticed your improvement. I'm proud to train with you." I may not pass my test on Saturday. And I certainly won't be perfect. But for too long, I delayed my test because I was chasing perfection. I will not do it anymore. It was a poor example for my students. Now is my chance to fix it. On Saturday, I will strive for excellence. I will put myself on the line and risk failure so I can set a better example for my tremendous students. Let the chips fall where they may. No matter what belt I'm wearing next week, it will have been good to have tried. To quote the great philosophers William Preston and Theodore Logan: "Be excellent to each other... and party on, dudes." When I was young, around the 2nd Grade, I have a vivid memory of one of my teachers giving me some feedback on a writing assignment. "Never start a sentence with "And" or "But"."
I was deeply confused when, the next school year, I read my favorite book (Frindle) for the first time, and saw several sentences starting with those forbidden words. I'm embarrassed to admit that I spent YEARS being confused about this. Had my teacher taught me a LIE? Why would she do that? Was she bad at her job? Could I trust any of my teachers about the finer points of grammar? Most of us have moments like this. Moments where we believe that our teachers failed us, or taught us something wrong. And is that correct? Was my teacher ignorant? The answer is: maybe, but most likely not. Here's what most likely happened in my teacher's head. "In academic writing, And and But aren't acceptable ways to start a sentence. And yes, there are exceptions to that rule in Creative Writing (especially fiction), but those come with a LOT of nuances that this 2nd Grader isn't ready to comprehend, and that I don't have time to explain. So I'm going to tell him the OVERALL rule, and just trust that he'll be taught the exceptions later on." This happens in Karate. OFTEN, I will be teaching a group of students a kata, or defense, or other technique. And inevitably, I come upon the problem that there are just too many problems to fix. Too many nuances. I have to instantly figure out the top 2-3 priorities for what I want to fix that day (and often, even those minor things must be taught with imperfections). Then, I have to let everything else go and trust that either myself or another instructor will fix it later. The students who recognize this phenomenon typically have a much easier time accepting criticism. Especially delayed criticism. So when you receive feedback from me OR from somebody else that seems to contradict what you've been told in the past: listen to the person giving you direction NOW. Show them respect by trusting them in the moment. Whether they're telling you to modify your teaching style, your kata, your kick, or anything else. Listen to the person in front of you. Instead of saying, "But I wasn't taught that way before!" try saying, "I didn't know that. Thank you!" This gives them a chance to either expound on their reasoning, move on, or question themselves and double check their work. Remember: let corrections come from the top down. If you notice something being taught wrong, or inconsistently, come talk to me privately after class. Let me be the bad guy who fixes a teacher's mistake. There are many types of people who will quit on their way to Black Belt. I want to focus on two of them.
Let’s call our first student Sisyphus. It’s a Greek name; don’t stress too much about it. Well, Sisyphus is a hard working student. Every time he comes into the dojo, he puts in the work. He doesn’t complain. He listens. He tries his best. But Sisyphus has a serious problem with attendance. And it doesn’t matter how much he tries when he shows up to the dojo, because he’s missing more classes than he attends. He’ll learn an entire kata in one day, but by the time he’s back at the dojo, he just has to learn it all over again, because he isn’t consistent enough to retain the information. Now let’s look at our second student. We’ll call him Squidward. It’s a Bikini Bottom name; don’t stress too much about it. Well, Squidward shows up for his classes. Every time. But he’s got absolutely no fire in him. He bows in, goes through the motions, and bows out. He never pushes himself. He’s no stranger to murmuring, whining, complaining, and excuse-making. The bare minimum is the best you can hope for from him. At worst, his attitude drags others down, and makes life more difficult for the teachers. If enthusiasm were food, this guy would be starving to death. These two students are walking wildly different paths, but if they don’t change their ways, neither of them will end up with a Black Belt at Tiger Den Dojo. Experience tells me that Sisyphus will eventually realize that he isn’t making any progress. He’ll stall out, and eventually, he’ll quit. Squidward already doesn’t like karate very much, or he sure doesn’t act like it. One day, he’ll realize that the bare minimum isn’t going to be enough to get him any further. He’ll quit too. Both of them will leave the dojo without living up to their potential. Because it isn’t enough to just be physically present during class time. It also isn’t enough to try your best if that effort is too sporadic. There’s only one way to get to Black Belt in this dojo. At some point or another, you have to show that you can be consistent AND diligent. You’ve got to be in the right place, at the right time, with the right attitude. This goes for our assistant instructors as well. Those who get the MOST out of assisting aren’t just those who show up. They are the ones who make a commitment to show up, then give it their all when teaching. They try new techniques. They learn student’s names. They work hard to keep excitement in the air. They make the most out of every time they teach, because they know it’s about more than assisting and giving back; it’s also one of the best ways for them to review. You get out of this dojo what you put into it. If you want good results that don’t last, put in inconsistent effort like our friend Sisyphus. If you want something that will pass the time, but will force you to watch others pass you in rank, act like Squidward. But if you want something more, don’t act like either of those fools. Act like a Black Belt, and one day you’ll become one. It breaks my heart to say so, but it isn’t enough for me to want your black belt. You have to want it. And you have to show me you want it. I’ve seen what happens to dojos when they give black belts to people who are just going through the motions–people with no real passion for karate. It never ends well. The prestige of the black belt is weakened, and the reputation of the dojo goes downhill.
I won’t permit that to happen at Tiger Den Dojo. And yes, I DO want all of my students to get a black belt. DESPERATELY. But more than that, I want my students to know that they earned a black belt. I grew up in the Boy Scouts where it was a common joke (with plenty of truth behind it) that many boys earned their Eagle Scout award solely because their mothers did all the heavy lifting. For myself and many others, that was reason enough to dismiss the award and cease striving for it. Your parents can’t earn you a black belt here. Your wallet can’t earn you a black belt here. Your spouse, friends, siblings, and puppy-dog-eyes can’t earn you a black belt here. No; the only way to get a black belt at Tiger Den Dojo is to EARN a black belt. And you can’t earn it if you don’t want it. I encourage you to want it. Set your sights to something high. Something profound, difficult, rare, and meaningful. Be like Babe Ruth and point boldly over the stands, calling your shot. Decide today to strive to earn the black belt. Write it down. Pin it to the wall of your bedroom, or your desk, or wherever you need to see it most. And every time you’re tempted to skip class, remember the long road ahead of you. Remember that you are capable of doing incredibly hard things. And remember that in order to live up to your immense potential, you’ve got to do the little things. Like showing up. Like having a good attitude. Like seeking to improve the culture of the dojo every time you enter it. You CAN do it. You just need to decide that you WANT it. You need to decide that you want it bad enough to get through the times where you’re feeling tired, discouraged, and overwhelmed. Because I can’t want it for you. I can only guide you on your journey once you’ve decided you want it for yourself. If you stick with Karate long enough, you’ll almost certainly find yourself–at some point or another–as the highest ranking student in your particular class. This is an immense privilege, but as Ben Parker once said, “With great power, comes great responsibility.”
Functionally speaking, when you become the highest rank (or even once you join the upper half of the class), we will need you to spend more time assisting others who aren’t as far along as you. This is vital, as it accomplishes five VERY major things that help the individual student AND the entire school.
Some students find this reality frustrating. They make it to the front of the group and then get frustrated that they can’t go on alone. But if this is a mountain trail, and I’m the guide, I have to make sure we don’t leave anybody behind. That means I need to make sure the people in the back are also taken care of. But I’ll tell you a secret. When I see those people in the front EAGERLY helping those behind them, lightening my load, I go above and beyond to help them go further on the trail. In fact, it’s much easier for me to justify it when there are MULTIPLE people at the front, all supporting those moving slower (and helping each other). I want to help you grow. I promise. I haven’t forgotten about you. But I have an entire ecosystem to worry about. Growth is slow and steady, especially when you’re at the top, and patience is a vital element of a martial artist’s character. This is the reason that time between belts gets longer as you get into the higher ranks. Please trust me to get you to the mountain top, and do what you can to encourage and support those less far in their journey. I promise it will be worth all the work and all the wait. Karate will challenge you like nothing else. I often find that parents and students expect me to react with shock and dismay when they report feelings of discouragement, hard experiences, and emotional struggle. One thing I wish everybody knew coming in: “Crying is part of the plan.”
Here are the top five things that will make students cry.
I’d like to add a quick caveat: I never want students to tie any of this to their self-worth. None of these things will happen because a student is worth “less” than their peers. These things will happen because it’s part of the process. I’m not writing this to ignore mental health; I’m writing this so that parents and students know that it’s OKAY to struggle in this dojo. Heck, it’s expected! No student is struggling alone. In fact if you aren’t struggling, it means I need to make some adjustments. Karate is hard because self-defense is hard. Karate is scary because self-defense is scary. Karate challenges our students on an emotional and physical level because self-defense will challenge them on an emotional and physical level. I take my job very seriously. I insist on having students that are careful, respectful, and tough. And part of becoming tough is doing hard things, feeling hard feelings, and learning that you are resilient enough to survive it. I’ve been guilty of chuckling in delight when I find something on Amazon and see the beloved “Same Day Delivery.” Part of human nature is that we don’t want to wait. We want to move as fast and efficiently as possible. We want life hacks, cheat codes, and shortcuts. And none of those are inherently bad things to want.
But so often, people spend so long searching their map for a shortcut, that they’ve wasted all their daylight, and now the trail is too dark to hike. And here’s the thing, if you’ve ever gone hiking, you know that there’s pretty no such thing as a linear trail taking you from point A to point B. But you trust the trail that others before you have blazed. You know it will take you to your intended destination. But it’s going to require a lot of effort, and sometimes you may not understand why we seem to be taking a big roundabout path to our destination (hint, it’s because there’s a bog that we’re trying to avoid.) Self-defense doesn’t come with same-day shipping. It’s not something that can be packaged or wrapped into a single seminar or secret scroll (that’s something Kung-Fu Panda got right). It sometimes feels like taking a detour, or pausing to find shelter for a coming storm. Here’s the thing, I can answer most of the “why” questions. And I love doing it. But sometimes I’m guiding a new hiker along the trail who keeps asking questions. Questions that require us to stop walking so I can explain. And occasionally, all that stopping causes some of the hikers to get frustrated with their perceived lack of progress and give up. Often, among the quitters is the very person causing all the stoppages in the first place. So remember: there’s no such thing as a bad question, but there is such a thing as a poorly timed one. When we’ve earned your trust as teachers, trust us enough to allow us the privilege of keeping our momentum in class. Find the right times to ask your questions, and until that time comes, I invite you to trust the process. It comes with lots of spectacular views. On September 13th, we will have some of our students attending a state-level tournament. On October 25th, we will be hosting a smaller, school-exclusive, Tiger Den Dojo Tournament. Over my 20+ years of martial arts, I’ve heard many martial artists question whether or not they should compete. I’ve also known plenty of students who ask why we require tournament experience for certain ranks. I want to address those inquiries.
1. Tournaments are a chance to pressure-test our skills against determined opponents. We’re here to do many things, and one of those things is self-defense. Tournaments–particularly the sparring/kumite divisions–give us the opportunity to pressure test the moves we’ve been learning against similarly skilled opponents in a safe environment. Nothing will teach you to keep your hands up like losing three points in one match because an opponent kept hitting that hammerfist. Sparring in a tournament setting is also fairly scary for most of our students. Learning to keep a cool head and use the tools you’ve learned is invaluable if you ever need to actually defend yourself. The more tournaments you do, the less intimidating it is to take a hit, and that translates to real life as well. 2, Tournaments provide a chance to demonstrate control and sportsmanship, especially in the face of failure and loss. It is supremely important for our students, especially our younger students, to learn how to confront–and even embrace–opportunities to fail and lose. Failure is not a weakness; it is an opportunity. One of the best gifts I can give my students is the gift of being able to lose and fail with grace, sportsmanship, and decorum. 3. Tournaments give you an extra incentive to make the most of every training session. Tournaments are often a fantastic motivator, especially for some of our students who aren’t motivated by progressing through the ranks. Students preparing for a tournament tend to “lock in,” honing their skills with greater intensity and purpose. Evaluations and belt promotions are largely focused on being “good enough” for your next rank. Tournaments demand you be the best you can be. Tournaments will always hold an important place in our curriculum and at our dojo. Healthy competition with excellent sportsmanship helps all of our students improve. I personally put my money where my mouth is, competing several times per year (most often nowadays as a White Belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu). We encourage everybody to keep that in mind as we begin to prepare all of our students (ages 6+) for our upcoming tournament. |
Sensei Brandon B. ChambersFour time Black Belt, Owner and Head Instructor of Tiger Den Dojo, Founder of ShouKenDou Karate. 
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