The focus of my memory project is to explore the ways we interpret information from our teachers, and how we then communicate that to our students. Specifically, I will be exploring this transmission in a martial arts context. Currently, my passion for this project comes from my position as an instructor where I train, and the many questions I have about how to be an effective teacher.
But where did my drive to teach come from? In reflecting on this question I’m brought back to my bedroom in my childhood home, in a house my dad built. I would sit in front of my stuffed animals, and using a small whiteboard, would lecture them on whatever I had just read about. It seemed to be a need of mine as a child to impart what I had learned to others. If my mom brought me to some social event I had no shyness about talking some adult’s ears off about my latest obsessions; from dolphin intelligence to Thai culture.
As I grew into adolescence it became less about teaching others and more about storytelling. I was rarely at a loss for words and practiced using gestures and expressions to convey my meaning more clearly. As I progressed in theater I was put in a mentor position where I was given many opportunities to teach newer students what I was continually practicing. At this time in my life it didn’t occur to me to analyze how I was teaching others; whether what I was saying was really helping them or not.
When I started my martial arts training the thought of teaching was so inconceivable that it didn’t even register as any sort of possibility. I could barely wrap my head around the idea of rank promotions. After a few years the desire to teach struck me like a roundhouse from my old instructor. I realized I needed to do self-defense classes. Someday when I had enough training, someday when I knew what I was doing, someday way down the line. Still, the concept was very far off, a future goal that didn’t need to be addressed yet.
It wasn’t too much longer after that realization that my current instructors started making comments about me teaching. “Someday when you have your own dojo…” “Some day when you’re teaching…” These comments startled me, but still, the position seemed like it was in the distant future.
Suddenly though, changes started occurring in the dojo. Two instructors moving away, another needing a break, and assistant moving on. Having just tested for my brown belt (an occasion that came much sooner than I
anticipated) my instructors asked me to begin teaching. First it would just be helping out for kids class. Then filling in for adult classes. Finally, developing a toddler program.
Faced with teaching others you really start to critique what you do. Do I know enough to teach others? Am I good enough at this to teach others? Does what I say make sense? Am I saying too much or too little? What do I do
if someone asks a question I don’t have the answer to? How do I correct someone in a constructive way? How do I make sure all the students practice safely and respectfully? And on and on.
My teacher often asks me “any questions?” After asking one or two I usually say “that’s all I’ll ask for now.” I need some time to let the rest of these questions form into sentences. As a child in front of stuffed animals teaching was easy. Now, when faced with four-year olds and forty-year olds the task is more daunting, and more enjoyable. For this project I will be able to ask questions of my teachers about what we learn, how we practice, and how/what we teach. Teaching, like the techniques we practice, requires practice and awareness. After learning more about how my teachers teach, maybe I can be more effective in helping others learn.