To Be Or Not To Be

Periodically, we tally up practice hours and inform Aikido students who have made sufficient progress that they are eligible for testing.  They are free to take up the offer or decline.  After we issued the offers, one time, a student came to me.  "Is testing really necessary?  I don't know why, but I really don't want to test.  Is this wrong?" he asked.

I can relate to that sentiment.  I once also felt confused about testing.  "Why must I test?  Isn't practice about practice?  I don't like being in the spotlight.  Showing my moves in front of everybody is embarrassing."  It feels like yesterday.  I told the student to do some soul-searching to find out why he feels this way before we talk further.

I remember being very resistant to the idea when I was told by sempais to "start thinking about my shodan test".  My emotions were complicated.  On one hand, I felt a little flattered, while on the other, I felt let down.  "That's it?  Me?  At this level?  How can it be?  There has to be more to it.  It can't be right!"  The perfectionist inside of me was definitely at work.

Confused and troubled, I talked to Bill, my friend/ my sempai about it.  Bill broke out a little smirky smile, like he always does, upon hearing my "problem".  The perspective he offered was not only enough to convince me to take the test, but it also changed the way I look at testing.

As Bill explained, the test is an occasion for students to honestly show themselves and others both what they can and cannot do in a special setting.  Some students who normally do well may shatter under pressure.  On the other hand, students who are "loose guns" may step up the plate and do exceptionally well.  It can be a real surprise to students and instructors alike.  While some students earn the extra confidence that they can use, others may get rid of the excess chips on their shoulders.

When multiple students, particularly if they are of different levels, commit the same mistake consistently during the test, there is a good chance they acquire it from their instructors.  For instructors, therefore, it is a great opportunity to review what and how they teach, and seek to improve.  Moreover, the level of competence exhibited by students serves as a benchmark for up and coming kohais.  It helps establish and clarify the expectations of the instructors for the dojo as a whole.  The process also helps foster camaraderie among students and boosts dojo morale.  When done right, testing can be a great educational experience for all.

Minegishi Sensei of Guam Aikikai thinks it should not be called "testing" because, as a teacher, she has a pretty good idea of what her students can do and cannot do.  When she offers a student the opportunity, in her mind, that student already has attained the level for the new rank.  She calls it "grading" instead because she sees it more as a demonstration by students of what they are capable of doing at their level.

I have the fortune of training under teachers who give unconventional, non-boring tests.  You may prepare as much as you want according to the test curriculum.  Yet, when it comes time for the actual test, items on the list may become only marginally relevant.  Things you never even thought about may be the centerpiece for your test.  My teachers also have creative ways to structure the test so that it is not just a matter of going through techniques.  They have endless ways of testing your limits.  There is never a dull moment.

After passing my shodan test, unexpectedly, I felt depressed.  Shodan is like a monumental arbor that Aikido students try to reach by training hard for years.  It is supposed to be special and extraordinary!  But after I go through that arbor and look back, there is nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  There is not even an arbor.  The new belt I put on does not help my Aikido a bit.  Whatever I could not do the week before, I still cannot do.  It does not change anything.  I was overwhelmingly underwhelmed.

I now know to explain to students that frustration is an integral part of Aikido training because your eyes advance before your body.  You are destined to never be satisfied because it is almost impossible for your physical abilities to match your aspirations, and that is a good thing.  That is what keeps you moving forward.

When I was contemplating my shodan test, Bill said to me, "You know what your problem is?  You aim high -- sometimes way too high.  You compare yourself to Sensei!  If you have to be as good as him before you take the next test, I bet you will never test again."

So, be inspired.  Don't be ridiculous.