Times

With much anticipation, the annual Aikido summer camp came and went.

At camp, some people noted that, proportionately, there were fewer white belts than before.  I wonder if it is because we are lacking new blood or that the cost of camp has priced young people out.  What jumped out to my eyes, compared to before, was that there were more women students.  Also, it was refreshing to see so many more women instructors on the teaching schedule.

At our dojo, we are very proud of having a very healthy proportion of women in our membership.  Among the six members of our dojo attended camp this year, there were three men, three women.  A pretty even distribution.

A quarter century ago, I attended summer camp for the first time.  I was an excited and enthusiatic second kyu.  It was a rite of passage for me.  

On the vast Aikido mat at Colgate College, there were hundreds of people.  If that was not intimidating enough, these were mostly western men much bigger than me.  Many of them were wearing a hakama.  I thought: Maybe it would increase my chance of survival if I stick with practicing with women.  

With that idea in mind, I paired up with a western woman in a hakama.  Since I had the propensity of forgetting what was demonstrated as soon as we paired up, I was so hoping that my sempai would help me practice.  

To show my sincerity, I dutifully did what my teachers told me what a good uke should do -- be responsive and attack realistically so as to give my partner something to work with.  Unfortunately, my sempai did not share the same concept about uke.  She had a hard time dealing with me.  Her annoyance grew exponentially as practice progressed.  As she became more and more aggressive, I was increasingly puzzled.  "Why is she looking so angry?"  Given I was not the flexible type, her pushes made it even harder for me to fall down.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???" she growled at me.

I was really frightened.

"What is wrong with me?  I don't know.  What have I done wrong?  Please don't hurt me!"  I was pleading with her timidly in my head. 

My sempai was determined to destroy me.  I could see the anger and hatred in her eyes.  She was ready to tear me into shreds.  I am grateful that my teachers taught me decent ukemi.  But even more so that the instructor clapped his hands to stop class so that I live to tell the tale!

Fukakusa Sensei of Thailand once commented that some women, in the hopes of becoming strong, turn themselves into men.  Indeed, some Aikido women in that era were doing just that.  They out man men.  Practising with big guys was already hard enough, yet, as I come to find out, practising with women like that was outright dangerous.  

Back in the not-very-good, but old days, junior students -- male or female alike -- were insignificant beings that were not seen or heard.  We did not dare to get close to senior teachers because that would be out of place.  At summer camp, as people lined up in seiza at the beginning and the end of classes, the first three rows were all black belts.  Even though nobody never said anything to me, I gathered that, as a white belt, I should sit behind them.  Similarly, when teachers were demonstrating techniques, the innermost circles were all black belts or the up-and-coming young men who were eager to take ukemi.  Being a woman, I knew that, no matter how good I become, I would never be called up for uke.  So, I went to the back and peek from where I belonged.

At the end of this summer camp, I went up to thank Steve Pimsler Sensei. 

"Sensei, thank you for hosting camp.  Also, thank you for practicing with our students and spending time with them."  I shook his hands.

"For junior students, to have a senior teacher like you to give them so much attention and to care for them is really special and empowering.  You are being so accessible to them.  It is amazing.  It is very important to them and to me, too.  Thank you."

I could not help reminiscing.  "Thirty years ago when I was new like them, there were not a lot of women on the mat.  There was no role models to look up to.  Nobody tells you what to do and how to survive on the mat.  There was nobody to watch out for you.  To sink or to float, it is really up to you.  I am lucky to have made it."  

Steve Sensei smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know.  Times have changed so we have to change, too.  We can't wait for years till people get to a certain level before we tend to them.  From day one, we have to take good care of them.  We have to let students know that they are valued.  From the moment they are here, we embrace them.  They are the future of Aikido.  We need them."

I cannot agree more.

Aikido is like a virus.  For it to perpetuate into the future, more people need to catch this bug.  No matter how well we document Aikido with books or videos, the virus needs human hosts for it to survive and evolve.  People may not know they need Aikido, but we know for certain that Aikido needs people.  

It is time to give the "Aikido Experience" a makeover.  

Be kind and be compassionate towards beginners.  Show them we value them from day one because they are the future of Aikido.  We need them.

Credit: New York Aikikai