Aikido Response Journal

Yes, this is what we have here; an Aikido response journal. I just decided that this morning. I was reviewing some earlier posts, and noticed that the "quick writes" that fill both my blogs are not subject to the formal writing process that I teach at school. I edit on the fly. Ideas that sound fine and fluent in my head read here as if they were written very quickly - and in most cases that is true. In other words, it reads like a first draft - or like a response journal. One way we can respond to something - anything - in the classroom is by writing our thoughts down in a composition book. The ideas there are sometimes shared, but never judged. It's a safe place to be free to write down ideas of any sort. I've always included a composition book on my classroom supply list, because I love their compact size and sturdy construction. It helps, too, that I/we can read from the "Amelia's Notebook" series, and these books mimic the size and look of a composition book. The students can make immediate connections, and Amelia's writing style and the way in which she illustrates her own writing gives the students lots of terrific ideas.

The phone rang last night at about 6:30. It was Carlos, our soon-to-be shodan (1st degree black belt). He asked if I was going to be at class last night, and did I have a key? "Yes," I said, proud of the fact that I was now being somewhat included in the Dojo's "inner circle." It isn't like the Inner Circle does anything special, it's more of an acknowledgement that I take my Aikido seriously enough that the instructors see that I will be a black belt one day. Considering it can take between five and ten years to become a black belt, one needs to be pretty serious to stick around for that length of time, and put in the effort to get there.

Last night's class was pretty rough for me. The weather has turned cold, and my aging body feels it. My joints are stiff, even if my muscles are relaxed. I am still stretching well, and improving my flexibility slowly and consistently. My joints are a different matter all together. We were working in the Iwama style of Aikido that Carlos has studied for most of his training "life." There were at least two techniques that could end in break falls. Of all the opportunities I had while uke, I managed one decent break fall. My joints kept me from doing any others. It was even difficult to get up from sitting seiza; my knees ached all night.

It's not that I love the Iwama style, but I do like learning these new techniques with Carlos. The Iwama techniques seem more directly connected to the weapon's techniques we study on most Saturdays. I like that there is such a clear connection. It especially helps that I love working with weapons, especially the bokken (wooden practice version of the Samurai's Katana). I also like that the Iwama techniques are mostly new to all of the students in the Dojo. Despite rank, we are all searching for what to do next, and working hard to maintain center. Iwama is, at our Dojo, the great equalizer. Black to white belt, we are reminded that we are all beginners all the time.

Non-Aikido Events

Our school district has a new reading adoption this year that includes a guided reading component. Having taught grades 3,4, and 5, our district, and the principals I've worked for have never required me to include guided reading in my classroom. The closest I've come was working at the high poverty school. There was an emphasis on centers, small reading groups, and testing; lots and lots of testing. The biggest problem I had was that the Reading Coordinator wanted all the teachers to stick to the teachers manual to the letter. I thought that was an astoundingly dumb idea. It left me no room to tailor to individual needs.

I am not at that school any more, but I am told by The District that I (all) have to do GR. So I am taking a class (good for one continuing ed credit), to understand guided reading as it relates to this program. Since both the reading adoption and the guided reading component are new to me, I am feeling overwhelmed. I have always used chapter books to teach reading, because I feel it is a far more authentic type of reading than opening up a basil and reading horrid stories. I know my grade level Standards & Benchmarks, and I study the list of reading skills I would be expected to teach were I to use the basil. I can teach any and all reading skills with the chapter books far better than with a basil. Chapter books also lead to much better classroom conversations.

I was discussing all this and more with my instructor who works at the district level now. Then we started to talk about my clasroom focus on Social Studies and how I unleash the creative side of my students with project based learning. I showed her my classroom web site, and the photos of last year's class' projects. She looked at me, waved her hand and said, "Oh, you don't need to be doing guided reading, you need to keep doing what you're doing." Then this gleam came to her eye, and she started talking to me about getting in contact with District-level people about what I'm doing, and how they need to know about me, and what a great resource I'd be to the District people who are trying to push project based learning.

I am not sure I need this sort of attention.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuh, or My First Seminar

I attended my first Aikido seminar last night. It is a three-day seminar at the Midwest Aikido Center, but I only went to the first evening. But even a single evening is a good start.

I was not even sure I was going to go. I'd been hearing about the seminar at our dojo for some weeks now. Our regular instructor is planning to go on Sunday (I think), and our chief instructor, who lives in Chicago, is attending all three days. I'd never been to a seminar before, so I was up in the air about going. At my rank, it's not required of me to go, although at my next rank, I'll be required to attend two seminars per year. So I thought, and thought. Seminars are a big deal. A famous person in the Aikido world always teaches. My attendance would demonstrate my conviction and dedication. On the other hand, it's about 100 miles of driving round trip. I've heard that there are parties after each class, and there's a lot of drinking that goes on, which I don't need when I have to drive 50 miles home, or worse, car pooling home with someone who has been drinking. I drink and enjoy it, but I'll be the first to admit I'm a lightweight in that department, and when I drink, it's usually at home so that I know there's not going to be any driving involved. Keeping it safe, you know? So I talked to Lu, who has been wonderfully supportive of my Aikido. She knows it's my only outlet that's truly mine, and the only place I have to go where I'm away from children and family. It's my only "me" time. She also realizes it's fantastically good for my health. So with all those considerations worked out, I mailed my release form and $45 check for Friday only to the MAC on Tuesday. Again, luck was with me.

Everyone from our dojo who has gone south to Chicago talks about the terrible traffic, and if you want to get to the MAC by 6:30, one needs to leave our home dojo by 3:00 at the latest in order to arrive on time. Our school's principal has been taking Fridays off to drive to Peoria, Illinois to care for her father, who, it seems, it nearing the end of his life. I took the opportunity to leave school ten minutes early. First, I had to drive home to drop off my little dear ones, the elder of the two was driving me crazy, as preteens are inclined to do. By the time I was ready to leave, it was nearly 3:30, but I was not worried.

I drove south on highway 31, a single-lane B road, versus I-94 which turns into a toll road once it gets into Illinois. "The I" - as they say in Wisconsin - has a higher speed limit, but taking it adds almost ten miles to my trip each way. In Gurnee, Illinois I switched to U.S. 41, which is two lanes in each direction, averages a 50 mph speed limit, but has stop lights. I'd stay on that until I got to the Edens Expressway, which goes south through Chicago. I was making good time.

By the time I got to the Edens it was only 4:30. I only had about 15 miles remaining, so I knew I'd get to the MAC with plenty of time to spare. I flipped the radio to a news station to get some traffic, and I heard that traffic on the Edens was unusually heavy; one hour, fifteen minutes from about where I was to downtown. Ouch. With light traffic, the trip would be about 30 minutes. It wasn't long before the traffic began to crawl

Since I'm familiar with the area, I decided to get off the Edens in Skokie, and take Lincoln Avenue through Chicago. It was a great call, because traffic was reasonably light, and Lincoln runs southeast through the city, and at its closest is only two blocks from the dojo. For all the moaning and groaning I'd heard from people who've driven to the MAC on a Friday, I made the trip with little to complain about. The MAC is situated in a typical city neighborhood, so there are plenty of walk-up apartment buildings up and down every street. I can see how parking would normally be a problem, but It wasn't for me. I found plenty of parking once I got there.

I got there at 5:30, a full hour before the seminar began. I took off my shoes at the door, put them on the self, and looked around for someone who might help me. I saw a woman I remembered seeing when I observed the children's class last April. She remembered me, too. I told her who I was and why I was there, and she replied that my check and registration form had only arrived that morning. Whew. Another stroke of luck. She went into the back room and brought it out front to show me. Once we both confirmed that I was who I said I was, I asked about the changing room, the bathroom, and the water fountain. She also suggested that I just "hang out" in the small common room on the far side of the mat area. As a reference, I would say that the MAC is about four times the size of our dojo. Big. Their mats are also some sort of plastic-like material, as opposed to our canvas. It's much easier on the feet, and no mat burns from friction.

After some time, others started to arrive. There were lots, and lots, and lots of men showing up with hakemas - the black pleated pants that indicates one of the black belt ranks. I started to feel a bit overwhelmed, and even a bit intimidated. The night before I pulled out my only white belt. Since we'd be working with one of the big shots from Japan, we use the more traditional belt system, which is black belt with hakema, brown belt, then white belts for all ranks below. I'm one step below brown belt, but I had to dress like a beginner. I didn't mind, though. I didn't want anyone at the MAC expecting too much from me. I wasn't sure what to expect from myself.

Then I started seeing some people I knew. We occasionally have people from MAC come to our dojo to teach classes. I saw one guy named Steve, a black belt, who, in what I've learned is good Aikido tradition, walked in to the common room, and started unpacking a 12-pack of beer into the refrigerator. As he was doing this, I looked into the fridge as well, and saw that it was packed with beer with a few soft drinks thrown in for good measure. At least I had someone there who I could ask my questions and didn't have to worry about being overly formal. Speaking of, I took it upon myself to make sure I went overboard with my etiquette and formality. As they say, you can't ever bow too many times at a dojo. I made sure if nothing else, I would give my back muscles a good workout. I knew people would recognize me as not being from MAC, and would ask me where I was from. I wanted to represent our dojo well.

About 6:00 I made my way into the men's changing room and got dressed. It wasn't long before I was on the mat stretching out. I was surrounded by lots of men and women in hakemas, but some of the guys I saw dressing that I thought were black belts were wearing white belts just like me. That helped me relax a bit, so I did my stretching in earnest. It wasn't long before the mat started to get crowded. I would say there were at least 50 students on the mat. Then suddenly I saw our chief instructor walk in the door. Finally, there was someone I knew from my own dojo. I breathed a small sigh of relief. I walked over to him about the same time he saw me, I bowed (being formal), then he stuck out his hand. We shook. He said how great it was to see methere, and how important it was that I start attending seminars. He asked if I'd seen anyone else from our dojo, and I said no, but the traffic was bad, and people might show up late.

Soon the seminar began, and we lined up. We bowed in. Our teacher was from the main Aikido dojo in Japan. He is noted for being incredibly fast, intense, and strong. He had to be at least my age. I was wowed watching him move with his uke (attackers). Fortunately, and I was told it was because it was the first night, he was working at a level that I could almost keep up with, which was nice. There were a few drawbacks, though. One I had expected, and another I had not.

First, I'd attended a summer Aikido camp two years ago, and I was familiar with how these men work as teachers. They speak in Japanese, and their interpreters do their best to relate what the Sensei said. Same now as then, I had a very hard time understanding, or even hearing the translator. It seemed that no matter where I sat, the translator had her back to me. That was difficult enough. Then there was the actual Aikido itself. In our dojo, our instructors demonstrate one technique at a time with what is very typically two or four variations. We get used to this quickly, as the variations follow the same pattern: left and right, with both sides having a "step in" and a "step around" move. Both the "in" and "around" moves are mirror image, left and right. It's not that hard to catch on. Our teacher last night, however, demonstrated anywhere between six and eight variations every time he taught. It was a challenge to figure out what exactly it was that we were supposed to be practicing. Sometimes he would demonstrate a bunch, and then people would just pick one and go with it.

Fortunately, when the teaching began, our chief instructor sat right next to me - on purpose, I think. He and I started the seminar together, which helped me feel not so overwhelmed. That was great. I think that maybe he also sent a message to the other black belts on the mat, because soon after, when the teacher called everyone together, I noticed that one of the black belts came over and sat right next to me. That was a clear indication that he wanted to work with me next, since upper ranks choose their practice partners first.

When our teacher was done demonstrating, the black belt turned to me and said, "Onegaishimas," or, "let's practice." I returned the 'onegaishimas' and we began. He was a great guy. Right away he noticed that I was tense. "Relax," he said, "You're among friends." Nice to hear, but I was still nervous about being there. I relaxed as much as I could. The teacher clapped and called us together again, and another black belt sat next to me. I worked with him for a while. Then another black belt sat next to me. I started enjoying myself. I also noticed that the people wearing white belts kept practicing with each other. I was really happy to be working with the black belts, and they seemed pleased with me.

The last black belt I worked with was an American of Japanese descent. I heard others talk about him and saying something about "his" students, so I figured he had his own dojo somewhere. He and I did the final exercise together. I think I did well with him, too. He gave me a couple of quick bits of instruction that I put his suggestions into practice right away, and I think he was impressed by how quickly I improved. I was getting him off his knees quickly and with little effort, which is the whole point. He also said I was strong. I don't know about that, since I have a hard time appreciating my own strength or how much energy I'm putting into my techniques, so I guess I did well with him, too.

Soon class was over. We bowed out. The men sat in the common room while the teacher took a shower. When he was done with his shower, we changed. I started talking to the last black belt I was working with, and it turns out that he was a young guy from Brazil. That was quite the coincidence. He was in Chicago to get his MBA at the University of Chicago. The teacher and many of the students went out for Chinese after the class. I took my things, got in my car, and made the 50 mile trek home. Of course, when I pulled into the garage and tried to get out of the car, I couldn't believe how stiff I was, and today I am sore and tired, but I had completed my first seminar.

More Work at the New Dojo

So last week I helped strip the roof off the new dojo. We moved tons (literally) of rocks, rubber sheathing, and insulating material so that the roofers could put on the new roof.

I arrived this morning at the new dojo ready to work. I walked up the alley, behind the corner building and into the space behind the dojo. I think there were about eight people there as well. No one had started anything, so being 15 minutes late was no big deal.

As I stood with the others, I saw the new roof. "That's nice," I said to no one in particular. Others saw what I was looking at, and started to take notice, too. It was a lot of work, but very much worth it.

Today I worked with the other members to rip tile off two office areas and the entry in the building. Each space was about 150 square feet. It was that old Vinyl tile from the 60s, and it had been glued down to last forever. Scraping it up was quite a job.

We also moved some rough hewn lumber from the back area into the garage. There was once piece about two feet wide, six inches deep, and at least ten feet long. There were two long straight branches about six inches in diameter, and another flat piece of hewn lumber one foot wide, by about four feet long. These pieces will be put together to create our kamiza. I think there is also a plan to hang our bokken and jo staffs from there as well. I think it's going to look terrific.

New Roof and a Key

From my other blog:

Our school's IT person helped me out yesterday by letting me know that the iPad I was given was a student model, which is why everything was blocked, and nothing worked. He gave me a teacher's model, which I brought home yesterday. I found iTunes and the App Store loaded on this iPad. I opened up iTunes and entered the term "free" in the search, and found a vast array of public domain books that I wanted to read. I don't have time, though, so I'm not sure what I was thinking.

Some of the public domain books were compliments of the Gutenberg Project. I've heard of that. I'll check back again soon to see what they've added. I saw Dickens, Wharten, Thoreau, and more. Some of the books that were originally written in English are published through this service in other languages. I saw a Dickens novel published in Finnish. I didn't down load that one.

Instead of going to the dojo this morning, I went to the new dojo and helped strip off the old roof. It was one of those flat jobs that are typical for small city buildings. We figured about eight tons of stones were sitting on top of the roof. Over the years a lot of dirt had mixed in with that. We shoveled it into wheel barrows and dumped it into the dump truck that was pulled up to the back of the building. After that, we pulled up the layer of rubber that was supposed to have water proofed the roof with mixed results. We folded these sheets up and dumped them in the big dumpster out back. Then came the 4' x 8' x 4" sheets of Styrofoam, then some brown material in sheet of 18" by 36" by about 1". Someone called it Celotex, but I don't know. This stuff was very dark brown, but it was light and would be good for insulation. That took us down to the plywood. As we stripped the old roof, the professional crew installed the new roof. After my two hours, the entire old roof was gone. There was only a little water damage down at the low end of the roof. We pulled up some of the rotted plywood, and found the stringers underneath in good condition. Our chief instructor, who paid for the building himself, and is paying for the new roof, said that by tearing the old roof off ourselves, we saved "a ton of money." It felt good to be part of that.

Since there were only six of us there, not including the professional crew, I worked the whole time I was there. Sometimes there are so many people there, that some people are always standing around waiting for some direction. The "second" crew showed up at about 11:30. It was the people who went to the dojo and attended class. I have no idea what they were going to do, since the big job was done.

There was also a small section of roof that covers the stairway along the side of the building. This section was only about four feet wide, but it was steeply angled. I have a feeling that when they tear that part off, a lot of people will be standing around doing nothing. As said, I'm glad I went early this morning.

Lastly, as I was walking out to my car, I ran into our regular instructor. He said that since our brown belt, Joe, was awaiting orders and would probably be shipped overseas, he had an extra dojo key burning a hole in his pocket. He gave it to me, saying that sometime I would have to get to the old dojo early to start setting up if someone else wasn't already doing it. He said that since I was a high enough rank it was something he'd wanted to do. "With rank comes responsibility," he said.