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  • ABCs and PhDs: Kicks, kata, and kiai — life lessons from my karate kid

    By Liz Stockwell November 24, 2009 7:50 pm

    We were all up before the sun this past Saturday morning. My eight-year-old son was practically bouncing off the walls with nervous energy from the moment he was out of bed. We left the house at 8AM for a regional karate tournament in which my son would be competing. Although my husband and I tried to hide it, we were pretty nervous on the 45-minute drive to the suburban high school gym we’d only seen on Google map satellite views.

    Thirty kids are in enrolled in my son’s karate class. A small number of these are highly spirited and impulsive, and they benefit from the self-discipline and focus required in the martial arts. My son is part of another sub-section of students, those who are cautious and unassertive. We knew very little about karate but were drawn to the martial arts as a way to help boost my son’s self-confidence and release his inner kiai. The dojo we joined has a wonderful reputation, and its motto is “Kindness, courage, excellence.” Hey, nothing about fighting or violence — what more could a mother want! I knew that the rough stuff would begin eventually but surely not in the early years. I love watching my son perform katas, the beautiful, almost dance-like sequence of kicks and punches that are the basic karate forms. Lulled into this false, non-contact impression of karate, I was surprised when we were asked to buy a mouth guard and what looked like boxing gloves for sparring. My son’s sensei laughed at what must have been an alarmed look on my face, and he reassured me that I’d get used to it.

    Interestingly, my son still prefers kata to actual contact through sparring, and his sensei recommended that he enter the kata competition in the tournament. Having participated in a couple of local tournaments before, where the entrants were organized in such a way that all the young kids received some kind of medal, my son was eager to take on this new challenge. However, his sensei warned him that this regional tournament would be different, with no guarantee of a prize. My son was nevertheless eager to try, and he spent extra time practicing his kata. We tried to encourage him, without giving him unrealistic expectations, saying things like, “We’re proud of you for how hard you’re working to prepare for this.” But maybe we also said, “You’ll do great!” Just the kind of thing parents say, without thinking, when they try to be supportive. And now, looking back, did any of us — parents, sensei, grandparents — set him up to think that with all his hard work he’d be bound to win a medal?

    He did not win a medal, although his sensei told him (and we told him) afterward that he’d done well. It’s just that four out of the seven kids in his age class did better. My son was disappointed in himself, and he couldn’t hold back the tears. We felt terrible for him, but continued to tell him how proud we were and how brave he’d been to register for the tournament (only two other kids from his class competed). Most important, we asked him if he felt he’d done well. After all, it’s self-confidence we’re trying to help build, not reliance solely on external affirmation of his performance.

    I’ve been unable to stop thinking about the tournament and about our role as parents in nurturing our son’s self-esteem. On the one hand, my first instinct is to protect my son from hurt. When I mentioned confidentially to my son’s sensei (who is not a parent) that I was nervous, he laughed and asked why I’d be nervous since my son couldn’t get hurt doing kata. But it’s not necessarily physical hurt I worry about. I keep questioning whether competition at such a young age is a good thing. The decision to enter the tournament was my son’s alone; no one pushed him. But at his age and early stages of development in his sport, I wonder if we should limit his exposure to events where he might fail (in his own eyes). As I was expressing these concerns to a friend of mine, she reminded me of how beneficial it is for children to experience failure in a safe, supportive environment. Sure, my son was disappointed, but his two teammates, his sensei, and his family were with him to provide support. Through the competition he may have learned that he can survive when he fails to meet his own expectations, learn from it, and move on. In fact, he told us today that he’s gotten over feeling sad and that he wants to do another tournament. Maybe he’s just naturally resilient, but I hope some of the lessons we’ve all learned from this experience will help down the road.

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Comments on ABCs and PhDs: Kicks, kata, and kiai — life lessons from my karate kid

  • lessons learned from a horrible swimmer
  • Posted by J.T. Sensemaker , Library Student on November 25, 2009 at 5:00am EST

  • When I was a kid I was on the swim team. I loved swimming, but hated competition, and the required swim meets were intense. I almost always came in last, and almost always went home in tears. My mom was a firm believer in getting back on the horse, and I'm glad she was, because I got better. Better enough to finally win a ribbon. Winning that ribbon felt so sweet, and made the hard work worth it.

    Now, fifteen years later as a masters student in his mid twenties, I still hate competition, but I understand that hard work is rewarded. The lessons your son is learning today will certainly be felt down the road!

  • Me too!
  • Posted by Suzanne Sheffield at Dalhousie University on November 25, 2009 at 8:45am EST

  • Seriously - I could have written this article! My 6 year old started Karate about 6 months ago, for the same reasons. He likes to do things for their inherent reward, is not interested in competition, and not interested in 'being watched' while he 'performs'. However, he recently won a couple of bronze medals from an informal, inexpected competition at his dojo and informed us that although the still didn't like being watched, he liked the medals. In a couple of weeks he will be doing one of his first level tests. His Dad is taking him for extra sessions to practice. I feel nervous about whether or not he will be able to perform under this new kind of pressure. But realistically, much of what we accomplish in life (at least in terms of work/career) we have to do under pressure and in front of others who decide our fate - pass/fail. I'm glad he has found a comfortable space with teachers who seem to get him to focus so intently and to concentrate. And if he does fail this first test, they (and we) we will be encouraging to keep going and try again. Actually, in the end, I'm beginning to wonder if each 'test' he goes through in life will actually be harder on me than on him. I think it's my job to be both supportive and realistic. I am hopefull that he will succeed in this test though, because for the first time since he started swimming it is clear he will not pass on to the next level. Interestingly, he seems pretty unconcerned about it.

  • This is good for him
  • Posted by Alan on November 25, 2009 at 1:00pm EST

  • I think having competitions, at any level or age, where everyone gets a medal/ribbon/trophy, whatever, is wrong. Not everyone in life is a winner. We ALL lose sometimes, and we need to know how to deal with it. My son is also in karate. He's more mild-mannered than some of the other kids. I sometimes wish he was more aggressive, but it's who he is. And karate has been good for him. Sometimes children think everything needs to be "fair." I tell my children that "life isn't fair, and the sooner you learn that the better off you'll be." We've softened up as a nation. We are too "politically correct" in all we do and it's killing our society. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Deal with it, keep working hard, and accomplishments will mean so much more in the end.

  • My future???
  • Posted by menubia on November 25, 2009 at 1:30pm EST

  • My son is four years old. He is 50 pounds. A gentle giant with big feet, big hands and a big heart. He is not shy, but will not be the first child out of the blocks to do anything. He is cautious in preschool, very pensive, and very empathic. We hope to enroll him in some form of martial arts (aikido or judo) in order to help him get comfortable with himself, and his size. He very much a boy in that he loves cars, wants to be a drummer/trumpet player (we're already stocking up on ibuprofen), and is not the most graceful creature on the planet. Thank you for the essay. It helps reassure me that my concerns about him are real, common, and normal. I am not in the habit of rescuing people from their life experiences, so I will not allow him to give up on himself. Like the mother referred to in the first post, I will assure him that things will pass, and that no life experiences should be the end of him. We all learn and grow, and that life lessons can come from big and little people alike.

  • Sweet Post!
  • Posted by Scholastica Mama , Asst Prof, History at Metropolitan State College of Denver on December 3, 2009 at 7:45pm EST

  • My husband and I met in a karate class in college. We've been training 20 years (goodness, I sound old!) and I trained through my BA, MA, and PhD. I hated competing, despite competing even in national tournaments. But I did learn that, while being hit does hurt, I can keep going. This is an important lesson, one I used often in my dissertation-writing process. One hit, or even several, does not equal the loss of the whole! I've made life-long friendships (including the marriage!) and now have a 3 year old daughter. Three of my karate-ka friends also have daughters. We can't wait to get the girls into classes! Knowing one's strengths, and weaknesses, will only make one a better person.

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