People love the idea of exotic adventures. We dream of exciting travels to far away countries or even far away planets. We fantasize about having fantastic powers or abilities or being specially chosen for a dangerous mission that will require a great amount of courage or heroism. I always have, at least. There's something about science fiction and fantasy that appeals to human nature. Some of us crave a dangerous adventure and wish we could escape to a far-away planet that needs us. We want to be called to do something bigger than simply survive in a cushy little suburbia.
But unfortunately elaborate, super-powered, multi-world adventures are limited to the world of fiction...right? Well, to be honest, I believe we're living in one right now.
Two thousand years ago, a hero from a different dimension came down to Earth. He was not the hero anyone expected; blunt, rebellious and from lowly origins, but he was exactly the hero they needed. His super-human powers were nearly endless. He could bend weather to his will, heal the wounded and the sick, raise the dead, transfigure the elements, see the future and possessed increased strength and endurance that allowed him to go weeks without food. Although he gained the public's love and respect, he made more than a few enemies...just like any superhero.
With great power comes great responsibility, however. This hero's responsibility was to save all of humanity and he did so by offering himself up in self-sacrifice. Like Aslan, Gandalf, Jean Grey, Spock and the Silver Surfer, he willingly allowed himself to be killed so that others may live. However, he was far too powerful to stay dead for long and travelled back to our dimension to set up a new alliance of warriors. These elect soldiers would be hand-selected to carry on his legacy until he returned to our world for the final time...this time, as its king.
Of course, this is the story of Jesus Christ. When you think about it, the Bible is nothing but one big real-life fantasy adventure. It just doesn't seem magical because we've grown used to it. I'm sure Legolas and Aragorn think their world is perfectly normal and boring, while we few Middle Earth to be some fantastic magical world. In the same way, we most of us look at our own world as simple and boring, but if a Mirkwood elf were to go Sacramento, he'd think he was in a magical kingdom out of a fantasy novel. Our reality is just as fantastic as any world of fiction. Christians have blessing of being the heroes. We are Christ's individually selected warriors chosen to light up the world. Spiritual gifts are like super-powers and Satan is our Dr. Doom.
I hate it when Christianity is treated like any other religion. It's not. What I hate even more, however, is when Christianity is treated like a trend. I hate it when kids act like wearing a "Team Jesus" t-shirt makes them a Christian in the same way wearing eye-liner and gages would make them an emo. Christianity should be treated like a mission...and not a make-believe one. Bible Studies shouldn't be cutesy little social gatherings, they should be team meetings. The Bible isn't a religious text, it's a secret agent manual. Christians aren't a political party like democrats, or a trend like goths, or a religious group like Muslims...they're super-powered mutant heroes like the X-Men.
If you happen to be a sci-fi/fantasy geek like me, stop dreaming and start living. There's a real-life mission that you're being called for. There are powers to unlock, people to save and enemies to fight. There's a battle going on right now, and whether or not you're aware of it you are already involved. Make sure you're on the right side.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
12 Quirks of Teaching Karate to Tiny People
The Tiny Tot Instructor is sort of the dark horse of the instructors at the dojo. A lot of karate students don't realize this, but the Tiny Tots is probably the hardest class to teach because of its unique little quirks. Not to say the other classes aren't hard (I've taught quite a few and they make for a tough job as well,) but the "Tots" class is a little extra...special. Most of the time, it's sweet, fun and adorable. Then, there's the times when I silently resist the urge to dragon-kick the brats in their pudgy little faces (don't tell Shihan I wrote that.) Anyway, here are some little facts about my job that explain why the Tiny Tots class is unique from any other class at the dojo.
Tots In Unison: NO!!
Me: Do we use our karate on a stranger that grabs you?
Tots: YES!!
Me: Do we use our karate on our friends at school?
Tots: NO!!
Me: Do we use our karate when a grown-up touches us in a way we don't want to be touched?
Tots: YES!
Me: Do we use our karate to show-off so our friends think we're soooo cool?
Tots: NO!!
Jesse: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!
12. Dumbing stuff down. No kid under six is going to understand "Use a full-pivot, ball of the foot roundhouse kick to the floating rib. A shard from a shattered floating rib can puncture a lung and is a devastating attack." Better to ask them to "Do a really big high kick!!" Earlier this week, I forget my bag gloves and broke the skin on my knuckles during kickboxing class. Andrew asked me what was wrong with my hands. Rather than going into a long explanation with lots of detail (Andrew's an inquisitive little guy with lots of questions,) I responded with "This is what happens when you do karate way too hard."
- Only having to remember yellow belt curriculum. As a brown belt, I have over 117 basic techniques to remember. When teaching the Tiny Tots class, I only have to remember 17. Much easier on the brain.
- Games. I am the only teacher at the dojo that gets to play duck-duck-goose with my students during class. It's awesome.
- Having to stay on my toes. Every teacher at the dojo has a awkward moment in their class once in a while. The Tiny Tots class, however, has issues that would make other classes look like a walk in the park. In fact, weird stuff goes on so often that nothing surprises me anymore. For example, the other day, while cleaning up after class, I spied a pair of little girls panties in a pile of hula hoops. I pointed out the hilarious discovery to my friend and fellow instructor, Ni-Kyu Katlin who just laughed and said "Congradulations, you're the Tiny Tot Instructor..."
- Acting like a goof-ball. Something I've noticed about teaching little kids is that the more nerdy/goofy/enthusiastic I act, the more fun the kids have. I don't have to be all solemn and serious like I would have to for older kids and adults. I can yell "Okay, guys. I wanna see your very best, super ferocious, lightning speed bear-crawls AAAAALLLLLLL the way across the room. GO BEARS GO!!!" in the dorkiest, most enthusiastic voice, and somehow they still have respect for me. It's awesome.
- "Teach-uh. I drew this for yooooou." My bedroom door is plastered with little kid drawings given to my sister and I by the Tots.
- Belt Testing. I do 100% of the stripe and belt testing for my kids. While it's a lot of extra work, I always get to know exactly where each students is in their training, learn their individual strengths and weakness, and give them each the personalized teaching that will help them the most. This also allows me to work the classes around what the kids need at the time as well as get to know my kids better personally, which leads us to point number 7...
- Tiny Tot Wuv. I only have a little over ten students at a time and get to really know them all. I get to be a friend as well as a teacher. This is also a quirk that qualifies as awesome.
- Belt Frenzy. For some reason, belts fly off three year olds like cinnamon rolls off a tray at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Most tots lack any ability to tie, adjust, or tighten a karate belt themselves, so after two seconds of running around, the mat is covered in a mess of belts. Rather then constantly be re-tying them, we usually just make a big pile and re-distribute them at the end of class.
- Owies. Little "owies" are always either one of two things: heartbreaking or dang annoying. Sometimes kids get genuinely hurt and whimper and cry. I don't mind taking time to comfort and care for them. Then, there's the kids that get barely bopped in head and start screaming bloody murder. Three words to describe these incidents: NOT GOOD TIMES.
- "Did you remember to wash your hands?" It's important to ask every kid this before they return from a potty-break. It's also important to learn how to detect liars.
- General Little Kid Awesomeness. Kids do and say lots of crazy random cute stuff. Here's an example:
Tots In Unison: NO!!
Me: Do we use our karate on a stranger that grabs you?
Tots: YES!!
Me: Do we use our karate on our friends at school?
Tots: NO!!
Me: Do we use our karate when a grown-up touches us in a way we don't want to be touched?
Tots: YES!
Me: Do we use our karate to show-off so our friends think we're soooo cool?
Tots: NO!!
Jesse: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!
12. Dumbing stuff down. No kid under six is going to understand "Use a full-pivot, ball of the foot roundhouse kick to the floating rib. A shard from a shattered floating rib can puncture a lung and is a devastating attack." Better to ask them to "Do a really big high kick!!" Earlier this week, I forget my bag gloves and broke the skin on my knuckles during kickboxing class. Andrew asked me what was wrong with my hands. Rather than going into a long explanation with lots of detail (Andrew's an inquisitive little guy with lots of questions,) I responded with "This is what happens when you do karate way too hard."
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Why Sweat is Both :p and :)
"To call running 'fun' would be a misuse of the word. Running can be 'enjoyable.' Running can be 'rejuvenating.' But in a pure sense of the word, running is not fun."
--Dean Karnazes, author of Ultra Marathon Man
Every once in a while, one will encounter an individual who claims to "love working out." Now I'm not talking about sports, or karate, or fun athletic activities...I'm talking about working out just to be working out. People who claim to "love" working out can only be one of two things: aliens or liars.
Think about it: working out involves doing physical labor that accomplishes no actual task. People run, but not for transportation. People lift heavy weights, but not because they are objects that need to be moved. People jump over obstacles that weren't necessarily in their way, punch objects that don't need to be tenderized, and pedal like maniacs on bicycles that never leave one spot in the gym. Not to mention the pain, the heat, the odors, and that disgusting salty wet stuff that gets all over your body. At face value, working out is somewhat...shall I say...stupid.
So what's the point? I often ask myself that right in the middle of a cardio kickboxing class or while running up a very large hill or during marathon forms. Even today, I was talking with a good friend (and workout-aholic) before our kickboxing class about this same topic. We came to the conclusion that one is seldom in the mood to start working out, and even more rare is the desire to continue working out once the workout has started getting hard. What's so enjoyable, however, is how you feel after the workout is over.
Today it hit me. Your body doesn't grow stronger during your workout..it's after you finish that your body starts to repair itself and grow stronger. That's also the time that feels all tingly and awesome (a.k.a the "Runner's High.") Without that gross painful workout, however, that awesome feeling can never happen. So here's my epiphany for the day:
Dude...life is just like a workout.
Sometimes God makes us do some painful, not-so-fun stuff. He'll send you to a school where you have no friends, introduce you to a boy that'll break your heart, allow you to be fired from your job, etc. He's like a karate instructor forcing you to do thousands upon thousands of roundhouse kicks. That's why a lot of people get ticked off at God...they see only the pain of the moment. The thing is, however, God knows that the only way to get that tingly-good feeling and a nice set of abs is to go through a little pain. He's not trying to punish you, he wants to give you something amazing that can only be achieved through pain; whether that be wisdom, peace, contentment, inner-strength, or some wild blessing beyond anything you've ever imagined.
Do I think working out is "fun?" NO WAY!! Am I thankful for every single workout? Heck YES.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
A Rant on "Rankism"
Don't you hate when people think they're better than you? It seems like in every group of people there's always some sort of clique that has this problem. Sergeants think they're better than privates and corporals, cheerleaders think they're better than band geeks, CEO's think they're better than all the lowly corporate underlings below them, etc. Some people just have an inner craving to be superior, and will use any excuse to feel that way. This is especially easy to spot in martial arts because of our rank system. There's a special term a friend and I invented for this special kind of arrogance: "rankism."
The qualifications for a rankist are as follows:
I know, we're supposed to have a special sort of respect for those who out-rank us. But what some people forget is that there's a special sort of respect for lower ranks too. That's why instructors bow back to students at the beginning and end of every class: respect is supposed to be mutual. It's a rank system...not a caste system. Unfortunately, I've seen my share of brown belts who act like aristocracy. They strut around, telling people what to do all while doing nothing themselves. Shouldn't the highest ranks be working the hardest to set a good example? Shouldn't they be the most disciplined, most respectful, most encouraging and most enthusiastic? While it's important that brown belts lead and instruct, their number one priority should still be self-improvement.
Of course, it's not just brown belts. I've seen rankism at every level...even Tiny Tots. It's a personal issue of the heart; no belt is to blame. I've seen yellow-belted rankists boss around white belts just as I've seen students soar all the way to black belt with enough humility to never be rankist at all. Some just want the feeling of superiority...and any sort of belt advancement will give them an excuse. It's a sinful human desire. Look at Eve: everything about her was perfect, but she was tempted by the possibility of being better. It was arrogance that made her eat that forbidden fruit. That's why martial artists need to be constantly checking their own hearts. With each new belt, the temptation to be vain grows a little stronger.
So if you're a martial artist like me, ask yourself if your rank and skills give you confidence or vanity. There's a difference. If you're confident, you should be selfless: striving to do your personal best while leading and encouraging others. If you're vain, you see no room for improvement in your own training so you spend all your time correcting everyone else. There is nothing more obnoxious than a vain, rankist martial artist.
Last month, I earned my San-Kyu brown belt. As soon as I stepped off that mat as a new brown belt, I swore to myself I'd never be a "brown supremacist." I would treat my purple and green-belted friends exactly the same as I always had, I would teach people the same as I always had, I would be the same exact person in a different color belt. If anything, I would push myself harder to be a better martial artist, instructor, friend, and person. That's my goal, anyway. I'm not very good with self-discipline so I'll end this blog post with one last request; if you EVER see me acting like a rankist...hit me over the head with a nunchuck.
The qualifications for a rankist are as follows:
- Especially proud of their belt rank or title
- Bossy towards lower ranks
- An attitude of superiority
- Being a jerk to lower ranks or only wanting to socialize with people of a particular belt color
I know, we're supposed to have a special sort of respect for those who out-rank us. But what some people forget is that there's a special sort of respect for lower ranks too. That's why instructors bow back to students at the beginning and end of every class: respect is supposed to be mutual. It's a rank system...not a caste system. Unfortunately, I've seen my share of brown belts who act like aristocracy. They strut around, telling people what to do all while doing nothing themselves. Shouldn't the highest ranks be working the hardest to set a good example? Shouldn't they be the most disciplined, most respectful, most encouraging and most enthusiastic? While it's important that brown belts lead and instruct, their number one priority should still be self-improvement.
Of course, it's not just brown belts. I've seen rankism at every level...even Tiny Tots. It's a personal issue of the heart; no belt is to blame. I've seen yellow-belted rankists boss around white belts just as I've seen students soar all the way to black belt with enough humility to never be rankist at all. Some just want the feeling of superiority...and any sort of belt advancement will give them an excuse. It's a sinful human desire. Look at Eve: everything about her was perfect, but she was tempted by the possibility of being better. It was arrogance that made her eat that forbidden fruit. That's why martial artists need to be constantly checking their own hearts. With each new belt, the temptation to be vain grows a little stronger.
So if you're a martial artist like me, ask yourself if your rank and skills give you confidence or vanity. There's a difference. If you're confident, you should be selfless: striving to do your personal best while leading and encouraging others. If you're vain, you see no room for improvement in your own training so you spend all your time correcting everyone else. There is nothing more obnoxious than a vain, rankist martial artist.
Last month, I earned my San-Kyu brown belt. As soon as I stepped off that mat as a new brown belt, I swore to myself I'd never be a "brown supremacist." I would treat my purple and green-belted friends exactly the same as I always had, I would teach people the same as I always had, I would be the same exact person in a different color belt. If anything, I would push myself harder to be a better martial artist, instructor, friend, and person. That's my goal, anyway. I'm not very good with self-discipline so I'll end this blog post with one last request; if you EVER see me acting like a rankist...hit me over the head with a nunchuck.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Fairwell, Ben. Enjoy Yellow Land.
Few people know this, but a yellow-belt is a big deal.
Really, every new belt achievement is a big deal, but there's something about a yellow belt that is extra special. Usually it's the first new belt you ever actually earn (white belts are kinda free...you get them for signing up for class,) but for my Tiny Tots, the yellow belt is huge achievement because it means they get to graduate out into the "Big Kid" class.
We have a special rank system just for our 3-6 year old "Tiny Tots" that is basically all the white belt material broken up into four different belts, with some added coordination drills (like balance beam and suction-cup ninja stars.) Depending on the kid, it could take anywhere from a year to three years to go through the entire Tiny Tot system and make it to yellow belt. Some take even longer and end up graduating the class because of age, rather than rank. Needless to say, our yellow belts are just a little extra special.
Yesterday, I awarded a yellow belt to a kid named Ben. This kid wasn't especially athletic or coordinated, but he was one of the best students in my class. He was sweet, obedient, quiet and tough. He did what he was told, listened quietly, didn't play rough and never got upset when things weren't going his way. Just a really great kid. He was also my very first yellow belt. So, while I'm so excited for him to get his belt, move up to Shihan's class, make all new friends and experience "Yellow Land" (as my first instructor, Ik-Kyu Mike always called it,) I'm also sad because he won't be my student anymore. Bittersweet.
My sister (who also teaches alongside me) and I decided to start a new tradition. Everytime a Tiny Tot of ours graduates our class with a yellow belt (rather than graduating because of age) we throw them a little party. We bake a big batch of cinnamon karate cookies for all the kids and give the new yellow belt a homemade card and bag of the cookies to bring home. Nothing huge, just something a little extra special. The kids loved it...and it even inspired some of the other kids to work hard so they could earn their yellow belts too.
I am so lucky to have been chosen to teach this class. I see my other brown-belted friends interact with their mixed-aged students and it's a completely different relationship. They have to be stricter, they don't have to help them as much, and they have to stick to the curriculum. Not me. I get to give piggy-back rides, play dodgeball, build obstacle courses, give hugs, fix owies: the whole sha-bang. Yes, Shihan's absolutely right when he said that the Tiny Tots class is the hardest class to teach. What he failed to tell me, however, is that the hardest part is watching them go.
Really, every new belt achievement is a big deal, but there's something about a yellow belt that is extra special. Usually it's the first new belt you ever actually earn (white belts are kinda free...you get them for signing up for class,) but for my Tiny Tots, the yellow belt is huge achievement because it means they get to graduate out into the "Big Kid" class.
We have a special rank system just for our 3-6 year old "Tiny Tots" that is basically all the white belt material broken up into four different belts, with some added coordination drills (like balance beam and suction-cup ninja stars.) Depending on the kid, it could take anywhere from a year to three years to go through the entire Tiny Tot system and make it to yellow belt. Some take even longer and end up graduating the class because of age, rather than rank. Needless to say, our yellow belts are just a little extra special.
Yesterday, I awarded a yellow belt to a kid named Ben. This kid wasn't especially athletic or coordinated, but he was one of the best students in my class. He was sweet, obedient, quiet and tough. He did what he was told, listened quietly, didn't play rough and never got upset when things weren't going his way. Just a really great kid. He was also my very first yellow belt. So, while I'm so excited for him to get his belt, move up to Shihan's class, make all new friends and experience "Yellow Land" (as my first instructor, Ik-Kyu Mike always called it,) I'm also sad because he won't be my student anymore. Bittersweet.
My sister (who also teaches alongside me) and I decided to start a new tradition. Everytime a Tiny Tot of ours graduates our class with a yellow belt (rather than graduating because of age) we throw them a little party. We bake a big batch of cinnamon karate cookies for all the kids and give the new yellow belt a homemade card and bag of the cookies to bring home. Nothing huge, just something a little extra special. The kids loved it...and it even inspired some of the other kids to work hard so they could earn their yellow belts too.
I am so lucky to have been chosen to teach this class. I see my other brown-belted friends interact with their mixed-aged students and it's a completely different relationship. They have to be stricter, they don't have to help them as much, and they have to stick to the curriculum. Not me. I get to give piggy-back rides, play dodgeball, build obstacle courses, give hugs, fix owies: the whole sha-bang. Yes, Shihan's absolutely right when he said that the Tiny Tots class is the hardest class to teach. What he failed to tell me, however, is that the hardest part is watching them go.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Drink the Flippin' Milk, Dang it!
You don't have to be alive very long on this earth to realize that teenagers are the group of humans with the most emotional problems. Despite how incredibly awesome my sister and I get along, we do occasionally have our issues with each other. Unfortunately, this morning was pretty bad. My sister is a perfectionist...and obsessive when it comes to food (she refuses to eat deformed m&m's and picks the nubs off her peanuts.) I, on the other hand, would rather eat something that fell on the floor than waste food. The milk in our fridge was one day expired, leading us into a heated debate over whether it was safe to drink or not (scandalous, I know.)
What I love about our family, however, is that no one holds a grudge for over an hour or so. We both snapped at each other a little, hurt each other's feelings a little, and went into separate rooms for a while. As I stood in my room imagining how long it would take me to move out of the house, it hit me that it would be far cheaper to continuing mooching off my parents for a few more years, and so I should go and apologize to my sister to create a peaceful household again. As soon as I opened the door, there she was, ready to apologize to me. Dang it...she beat me to it. Now she's the good one. To put the icing on the make-up cake, we decided to go out to coffee, just the two of us plus Koti, our mini Australian shepherd. It was amazing how quick we went from snapping at each other to singing along to Justin Bieber (don't judge me) and goofing off in my car. I think God rewards humility. It's so much easier to stay mad, hold grudges, and cling to pride. It always feels awkward being the one to apologize when deep down you feel like it's not your fault. Truth is, everyone's at fault...and when we recognize it's our fault too, God rewards us with peace in our relationships. And coffee...He rewards us with that too.
People say my sister and I never fight. That's not true. All siblings fight...we've just learned the right way to deal with our fights. My sister is an amazingly mature 14-year old...she deserves way more than just a free latte once in a while. It's kinda ironic, now that I think about it...what began with expired milk ended with delicious milky coffee drinks. Wow...God does have a sense of humor.
What I love about our family, however, is that no one holds a grudge for over an hour or so. We both snapped at each other a little, hurt each other's feelings a little, and went into separate rooms for a while. As I stood in my room imagining how long it would take me to move out of the house, it hit me that it would be far cheaper to continuing mooching off my parents for a few more years, and so I should go and apologize to my sister to create a peaceful household again. As soon as I opened the door, there she was, ready to apologize to me. Dang it...she beat me to it. Now she's the good one. To put the icing on the make-up cake, we decided to go out to coffee, just the two of us plus Koti, our mini Australian shepherd. It was amazing how quick we went from snapping at each other to singing along to Justin Bieber (don't judge me) and goofing off in my car. I think God rewards humility. It's so much easier to stay mad, hold grudges, and cling to pride. It always feels awkward being the one to apologize when deep down you feel like it's not your fault. Truth is, everyone's at fault...and when we recognize it's our fault too, God rewards us with peace in our relationships. And coffee...He rewards us with that too.
People say my sister and I never fight. That's not true. All siblings fight...we've just learned the right way to deal with our fights. My sister is an amazingly mature 14-year old...she deserves way more than just a free latte once in a while. It's kinda ironic, now that I think about it...what began with expired milk ended with delicious milky coffee drinks. Wow...God does have a sense of humor.
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