The Moving Billboard

Working on the last post made me think of an amusing encounter more than ten years ago.

A young man called the dojo on a night I was teaching.  "I want to try Aikido!"  I told him he was welcomed to come watch a class anytime.  "I don't want to watch.  I want to try, and I want to come now!"  He sounded very determined.  I told him to hurry up because the second class had already started.

He showed up after about ten minutes.  "I want to practice in this class right now." he announced.  I had never encountered anybody else who just walked into a martial arts dojo and demanded to take part in a class as if he owned it.

This strong young man was taller than me by, let's say, a few inches.  He seemed to like being up close when he talked to people.  He was, literally, towering over me .  I had to throw my head back to see his face.  The scene must be quite hilarious to the others.  On his face, however, I saw despise.  He, the newbie, was the youngest, tallest, and the most muscular person in the entire place.  And he found that the instructor was a woman -- the smallest of all.  He gave me the feeling that he thought it was a joke.  

"Sure.  Before you get on the mat, I need you to sign a waiver, indicating that you understand what you are getting into, and are willing to be responsible for the risk you take."  I handed him the waiver form.  

I asked him if he could roll.  He said he could.  So, I let him get on the mat in street clothes and told him to watch carefully what was being demonstrated and to do the best he could to imitate.  

An ikkyu, eagerly came over to try to help him practice.  Fearing the newbie might get hurt at his first Aikido class, the ikkyu treated him with caution and care like a good sempai would.  Yet, it was clear that his kind pampering was not appreciated.  Macho, tough guys find coddling insulting. 

Not surprisingly, the moment he got a chance, the newbie ran away from the ikkyu and paired up with a young black belt who was going much faster and harder at the other end of the mat.  

The newbie was responsive and agile.  Although, he had never practice Aikido, he could roll well enough when he was thrown.  A few times, he went down on his butt clumsily, but that did not deter him.  I decided to let the boys play while I quietly keep an eye on them.

At one point, the black belt raised his hand to ask for help.  He could not figure out a ryokatatori technique I had them do.  I had the black belt grab the yokes of my training uniform, one hand on each side.  I slowly and gently move my hands up and down to cut through his center.  He let go and tumbled away from me.

I showed it four times and was ready to go help another pair.  "Let me feel it!"  The newbie was not convinced.  There was no impact, no fast speed, no force and no resistance.  I agree: It did look unreal.  He came over to grab hold of my uniform.  He might have lifted me off the ground had I not trained in Aikido.  "Are you ready?"  I gave him a smile and then did the exact same moves, but even slower and gentler.  Before I finished, he already crumbled to the mat.  He blushed a little, but insisted that we try again.  The second time around, he just sat on the mat to gape at me . . .

Happy times go by quick.  We had a spirited practice.  By the time people sat down to close the class, their smiley faces were all dripping wet.  Our newbie had a fun time, too.  His sweaty T shirt made me think of the old movie "10" . . .

"How was it?  Did you have fun?" I asked the newbie after class.  To my surprise, this time, he chose to stay about two feet away from me.  "Yes, I did.  It was great.  Thank you for letting me participate."  The newbie talked to me with a gentle voice with his head hanging down.  "I would like to come back and take more classes.  How do I join the dojo?"  I told him to try a few more times before paying dues as a member.  The dojo is a true non-profit.  We care more about whether people enjoy their practice than their money.

The newbie bowed and was ready to leave.  "Hey!  Please come back!!" I hollered him.  "Oh?  What is the matter?"  "Look at your shirt!  You guys must have had too much fun earlier.  It's all torn up!  I can't let you walk out like this.  I don't want people in the neighborhood to have funny thoughts.  It makes our dojo look bad."  I handed him a brand new dojo T shirt.  "Here!  Put it on.  It's your welcoming gift."

That evening, the dojo gained a new student and a free moving billboard.