Wednesday, August 10, 2011 by C. Michial Jones
Recently, I received a message from a visitor to my website who took issue with my membership policies. They wanted to know why I “restricted” access to the art, eventually labeling me an “elitist karate snob.” It was a curious accusation, especially since the individual had never expressed interest in training or even visiting the dojo.
On the Yushikan website, I maintain a clear policy:
“We are a small private dojo; therefore, all prospective students must apply for membership. Visitors may not stop by without an appointment.”
To the modern consumer, this looks like elitism. To the traditional practitioner, it is simply preservation.
The Sovereign Dojo
As the Kancho (Head) of my dojo, the responsibility for its environment rests solely on my shoulders. Unlike a commercial school, which is often a public-facing business subject to the whims of the market, the Yushikan is a private study group.
I do not have a commercial dojo, nor do I want one. I have walked that path before and found it counterproductive to teaching “Old Style” Karate. In a commercial setting, there is a constant pressure to soften the curriculum to maintain the student count required to pay the rent. By moving the dojo to my private property, I removed the financial “need” for students. This allowed me to focus on the one thing that matters: Quality of Instruction.
I limit the numbers because I refuse to teach the masses. I want to give one-on-one instruction. I want to know exactly how a student breathes, how they move, and where their spirit wavers. You cannot do that with fifty people on the mat.
The Three Pillars of Admission
If being selective about who I spend my life-energy on makes me a “snob,” then the term has lost its meaning. My criteria for admission are not based on social status, wealth, or natural athletic talent. They are based on character:
- A Sincere Desire to Train: Not just a passing interest or a “New Year’s Resolution.”
- Seriousness, Commitment, and Devotion: The understanding that this is a decades-long marathon.
- Being a “Good Person”: Having a spirit that contributes to the dojo rather than detracting from it.
The methods of instruction at the Yushikan are not for everyone. We train hard, and we train seriously. Most who are accepted do not last long; many do not make it past the 5th Kyu. This isn’t because I am “mean,” but because the art itself is a sieve that weeds out those seeking a casual hobby.
The Ultimate Test
There is one final, non-negotiable rule that governs the Yushikan. Because the dojo is located on my personal property, near my family and my sanctuary, the “meat and bones” of the application is this:
I will not allow anyone into my dojo whom I would not allow into my home or around my children.
In the old days of Okinawa, a teacher would often watch a prospective student for months—or even years—before ever showing them a single punch. They wanted to know the person’s heart before they gave them a weapon. If protecting the safety of my family and the integrity of the art makes me an “elitist,” I will wear that badge with pride. The Yushikan isn’t a club you join; it’s a family you earn your way into.
No responses yet