Other People's Kids

We are going to offer something this year at the dojo that I originally said I would not do; we’re going to start teaching kids. Not little kids - we’re not going to have “Little Ninja” classes that have nothing to do with marital arts. No pizza nights or after school programs designed to bring in revenue that would have the old masters turning in their graves. We’re not doing “anti bullying” classes or a “junior black belt” program. My apologies to any parents out there who currently have or have had their young children enrolled in such programs. I’m sure your child is benefitting in some way and that you got you’re money’s worth. But a quick scan on YouTube would enlighten you as to how martial arts schools teach young children in places like China or Japan. I guarantee nobody is getting a participation badge or a “best kicker” button.

I don’t blame my competitors for having programs such as these. Most martial arts school owners understand that the majority of their profits are going to come from children between the ages of four and ten. That’s because we have a generation of parents who, in my opinion, want to extend their deep desire to have their child’s life be continually pleasant into every facet of their lives. And smart business owners know how to capitalize on this, or hire people to help them do it. People who have martial arts academies with a large number of staff actually pay to have their employees trained in how to teach children. Makes sense, lawsuits and all. Teaching little kids, other than my own, has never been my schtick.

I started roughhousing with my kids as soon as they could walk. I wanted to raise rough and tumble boys who could eventually become rough and tumble men. And when they turned five, I started to teach them things like tumbling, striking and kicking. They have been dodging bokkens (wooden swords) for the majority of their lives. They learned how to box and take a hit when they were still learning how to make paper airplanes. We had kick-fighting matches on the trampoline and they learned how to throw each other because they were too small to throw me. Did they get hurt some times, cry once in a while. Yep. Was there blood and bruises occasionally? Absolutely. Were they angry with me or themselves at times because they couldn’t do what I wanted them to do? Sure. And all that stuff is just a part of learning a real and reliable martial art. I caught flak more than once from my wife (and her mom) for being too rough on my kids. But real martial arts were designed to deal with the real world. And the real word doesn’t care about you or your child.

By the time I retired from the Air Force and moved back to Cincinnati, my kids were in their early teens. I had trouble finding a dojo that I wanted to become a part of, so I started working out with my sons in our garage. Nothing fancy; we weren’t wearing uniforms because it wasn’t formal training. We’d spar, throw each other around, do rounds with escrima sticks, stuff like that. And since our garage faced the street, the neighbors could see and hear what was going on. One day, a very polite young man walked up to me when I was hitting the bag and asked if I’d start teaching him. He was around fourteen, lived down the street. I said sure. “What will you charge me?” he asked. I said it wouldn’t cost him anything but time and commitment. “But here’s the deal; this is a tough road and you gotta hang.” He started working with us and we got to know him and his family fairly well. As I recall, his dad and I saw life similarly and he was happy to have his son involved in our training.

Soon after, my kids brought some of their friends from high school to our garage to train and before you know it, we had a dojo. A couple of them are still around and remember how “mean Mr. Mags” would do things like make them do endless ukemi (rolling) or open the garage door in the middle of winter. There were a couple of kids who came to the garage dojo a bit unprepared for what we were doing. I think one kid in particular had gone to some big martial arts academy when he was six or seven. He simply was not prepared to train in a space that had no air conditioning, no “time outs” to catch your breath. Nobody to pat him on the back for showing up. We had a “puke bucket” for boys like him and he used it. Actually, I think it was the bushes next to the house. Anyway, you get the picture. For those who stayed, their parents were grateful and most of those guys are all still really good friends. “Brotherhood through suffering” is what they called it.

When I decided to open our school to the public, I debated whether or not I would teach kids. For me, little kids are out of the question; I lack the space, the staff and the patience. But, I think I can work with teenagers again. When I was in high school, I would have gone to a place like this in a heartbeat. A place where you’ll be challenged, sweat a lot, get frustrated, thrown, and hit. You’re going to get “tapped out” and “choked out.” But the only person you’ll have to be better than is the person you were yesterday. In the meantime, you’ll learn how to defend yourself and push yourself. You’ll gain mental focus that will help you study and pay attention. And you’ll make some lifelong friends. Most importantly, you'll have a place where you belong. I believe there are some young people out there are looking for that. We’ll see how it goes.

Dave Magliano

Tatsu Dojo

Jissenkan Budo

Dojo Cho