Karate class

Matthew is in his early twenties and must spend hours at the gym judging by the size of him. He dresses like the typical male of his generation which is not saying much either for him or for his generation. He just wrecked his mother’s car but he’s a nice kid, a little cocky, a little unsure of himself, a little immature.
Matthew is on his way to a black belt and officiates as the o’Sensei’s assistant during my karate class.
And when he’s in the dojo, Matthew simply undergoes a metamorphosis. The lack of assurance becomes a quiet competency. The cockiness is replaced by absolute deference and discipline. His face becomes set and intense, his eyes focused and piercing. In spite of his bulk, he has great balance and flexibility. Every move is controlled, precise and deliberate, his repertory seems endless and his execution impressive.
In other words, he goes from a non-descript, insignificant pup, to a man to be respected and reckoned with. And he’s not the slightest bit aware of it, which is the most fascinating thing about it. If he was putting on a show or a personality, it wouldn’t have the impact it has now, by being so oblivious.
I never tire of observing human nature and I enjoy watching this mesmerizing change.

But I’m impressed by all the guys in my class. Granted, being the only girl in an all male environment is the social set-up that I’m the most comfortable with. But in all my years of taking classes in all kinds of disciplines, I’ve never encountered such respect, friendliness, simplicity and humility, totally oblivious of age, sex or level of experience. How ironic that all this should be found in a class that basically teaches aggression. The gaijin came, saw… and respects. I am glad my son is involved in this. If he can grow up to be anything like my classmates, I’ll be satisfied.

In the meantime, Matthew plays the role of the assailant in our self-defence practices. He’s the one thrown to the mat a zillion times. So he comes and grabs me…and I can’t help smiling as I put him down and “finish” him in five moves. Because in truth, if a man this young, this big, this fit ever attacks me…I’m chopped liver.

Sometimes the Sensei takes on an almost sheepish tone when showing me where to hit to break an arm or a knee: “I know it sounds sadistic but if a man attacks you,” he apologizes, “it’s to rob you, rape you, kill you. You must not hesitate.” I wonder why he feels he has to convince me. Should I ever be victim of an aggression, I’ll have no qualms about hurting the guy as much as I possibly can. No qualms.
So is the Sensei teaching me violence? No, he teaches me self-defence. He teaches the guys to back-off, avoid and refuse the fight until they actually get attacked. But then he teaches how to end it quickly and efficiently. Until further notice, I am comfortable with that approach.