"I'll give you your brown belt right now," Sensei said after I'd sent him sliding across the mat. We were working on a bokken kata that involved an uke and a nage. The last move had nage slashing his bokken across uke chest, but behind the bokken was a shoulder bump that drove the blade of the bokken into uke's chest. This was a very satisfying kill. I realized after class that I've only got another 33 hours before my brown belt (2nd kyu) test.

I've feeling generally good about it. We've been working on the techniques for my test during regular class, which is typical for us; we work techniques for whomever's test is getting close.

On a sad note, one of our dojo members died tragically recently. He had a heart attack, made worse by his Type 2 diabetes. He was wonderfully nice, and a terrific teacher. I remember working with him both as his student, and one-on-one during classes taught by others. Our whole dojo mourns.

Training Films

My school district bought all the teachers iPads. I'm not exactly sure why. There really isn't anything that it does for my job that I can't also do on my school computer - a MacBook running OS X 10.5.8. It works  just fine for me.

However, it does do one thing that my MacBook doesn't: it takes digital videos. This has become helpful, though, in the past few weeks, because my younger daughter has developed an interest in taking videos. We go to Aikido together on Saturdays, and she takes videos while I practice. These little videos have become really good training aids for me. I am finally seeing myself while I train.

I see myself and know that I sometimes move like an old man. Today was a good day according to the videos I've seen today. I moved well. I noticed in the last videos that I sometimes hesitate mid-technique. The last video showed that on a morote dori kokyu-nage, for example, I would move to get uke's balance,  hesitate just for a moment, then complete the throw. Today I made a point of continuing to move all through each teachnique; I never stopped moving. No matter how slowly I moved, I kept moving. It seemed to make a difference, at least a small one to me. Moving constantly kept uke off balance, which made my throws as nage easier, and more effective.

I spent most of class today working with our dojo cho. He is a nidan, in his early 60s. He is very good. Today we were practicing a variety of kokyu nages from ryote dori. All began with a tenshin step that turned uke around 180 degrees. Once we had uke turned, we could slide forward and throw uke who was holding that leading arm, we could move into kaiten nage, or slid under uke's arms, drop to our knees, and send uke rolling over our shoulder. We could also do the last technique in ura form by doing a full tenshin step first. I worked with him for about 80 percent of class. We were both exhausted by the end of class.

I am reviewing the 15 minutes of video that my daughter took today to see where I can improve.

Holiday Party

Had a wonderful class last night. I base that on how sore and bruised I am the following day. Today I have purple bruises on my biceps and legs. I have deep red, superficial bruises on my wrists. We did nikkyo, which explains the bruises in my wrists, and some throwing techniques that required grabbing uke's upper arms, which explains the bruises on my biceps. The bruises on my legs are not so easy to explain.

When I was uke on a throwing technique, my partner said my calf hit his elbow. Now it feels like I have a big knot in my right calf. It will go away soon, I know. I also have a good-size lump on the outside of my left knee (about three inches across and one half inch high). I have no idea where that came from. So based on all my bruises and lumps, I would say it was a terrific class.

We went to a local restaurant after class - the same one we usually hit after testing. I guess there were about 12 to 15 people there. It was nice, but I didn't stay too long. I had a bowl of soup, and took my cue for a drink from our dojo cho. He had a brandy manhattan - which I'd never heard of before last night. I'd always had my manhattans with whiskey and vermouth, never brandy and vermouth. I have to say I really, really liked it.

The only part that made me shrug my shoulders is how the waitress brought out our orders. Instead of looking at us as a group and thinking we all wanted to eat at the same time, those of us who ordered soup or salads, got our orders first. Everyone else sat there watching us eat. It wasn't until we were finished that she brought out the rest of the food. I don't get the thinking behind that. Why would I want my bowl of soup before the people sitting on either side of me got their hamburgers. It makes no sense. I guess that's why I never took a job as a waiter.

So back to the dinner. One of the members, who went to Japan recently and is aware of all the proper dojo etiquette collected some money from the rest of us, and bought gifts for our chief instructor - two really nice bottle of sake and a gift certificate to a local sushi place - and a bottle of wine for our dojo cho. I'm really glad about the second one. I heard last night that some students got gifts for the dojo cho on their own. I've thought about that in the past, but never had a clue about what to get, or even if that was the proper thing to do. This is my third year at the dojo, so I've only let two years go by wondering what to do. Anyway, I'm glad we got him something.

Then it was Sensei's turn to give us something. Two years ago we got a towel of sorts that he got from Hombu Dojo. It's a thin cotton cloth to be accurate, with kanji on it. I was told it said something about Aikido, and Hombu, and 2010. As a sweat towel, it's worthless, but I still want to frame it and put it up - maybe in my classroom. For that, it's completely cool. This year's towel is blue and it's a real towel. On one end it says AIKIDO in English. On the other end it says Aikido in kanji. It's also terry cloth, so it works at a towel. I'm going to put this one in my dojo bag and use it. Sensei mentioned that he saw Yakota Sensei from Hombu Dojo with the exact same towel when he was at the Midwest Aikido Center seminar a couple months ago. I was at the seminar on Friday night, but I didn't see a towel. It was nice to get something though. I left early (about 10:45), but it was a nice night and I'm glad I went.

Relaxed

Another breakthrough of sorts at the dojo last night. We were doing techniques from Tai no Henko. We did shiho nage, a couple different kokyu nage throws, and some throws whose memory was beaten out of me last night, including some koshi nages which all led to break falls.

On the one hand, my break falls were all nice and light. On the other, as nage, my throws were all pretty good until I got to David, who is about 75 pounds heavier than me. He is also about nine inches taller. Between all that and my arthritis, I was happy that I did it as well as I did.

The real breakthrough was with the Tai no Henko. Our first kyu sensei and I were working together. He was hounding me to relax. I was doing Tai no Henko the way I thought is was supposed to be done. I was using my ki as I would doing the "unbendable arm" trick. He kept telling me again and again to relax. Finally, I sighed in exasperation, completely relaxed and did the technique then really settled down at the end. He let out this "Ah!" as he tried to keep connected with my wrist. "That felt totally different," he said. I will do it this way from now on.

This is just one more breakthrough in my Aikido. I've been astonished at how I've improved since the start of the summer. I am moving so much more effectively these days. My throws are, from my perspective, quite gentle, yet my ukes go flying. I'm afraid to think of what would happen if I used as much energy as some of the other people at the dojo. Changes are if I did, I might just mess everything up. Moving at this speed and this level of energy seems to work for me. I don't see the need to crank it up right now. Why mess with what's working for me?

More from the Dojo

Thursday I was working with a shodan from Los Angeles. He's working on a project in Milwaukee, and decided to join us for the month he's here. I guess he looked at the Aikido dojo in Milwaukee, but decided to join us, instead.

We were working on irimi nage from ushiro katate dori, using a tenshin step. We led uke around behind us and into the irimi nage. For two "passes" we let uke grab our second wrist, on the last two, we did not. What was both fun and surprising was how easily I was taking down my uke. As I went in to the final move of the irimi nage, my uke's legs just folded under him and he slid forward and collapsed on himself. I said to him that I was being gentle (since that's the way I always try to work), and that I wasn't trying to put him down hard. He smiled and told me not to worry, because whatever it was that I was doing, it was working.

I find this happening more and more at the dojo. I think that I'm doing a better job focusing my center, or "ki," I'm using my body more efficiently and effectively. I'm getting more done with less effort.

We also did a series of koshi nage, or hip throws on Thursday. Koshi nage seems such an integral part of Aikido, yet to me hip throws seem to come straight from judo. Perhaps they do. I'm not going to go down that road right now. The point is that we worked three of four different variations of koshi nage on Thursday, and I was getting my uke over my hip very effectively with little effort. It was good.

Today was the same. I worked with a brown belt who started when the dojo was in its earliest years - it's ten years old now. We were doing tenshi nage - the Heaven and Earth throw, both omote and ura. As long as I was driving my "heaven" hand upward I was taking him down like nothing. This was also good.

At the end of class today Sensei had us practicing for randori. Uke were to attack with a shomen uchi, or overhand strike, and nage had to evade the strike with a move to uke's open side. When it was my turn I could hear Sensei saying, "Nice, good work, very nice." I impressed them all. It's not that I was going for impressing others, but if you knew me, you'd know I never think too highly of myself for a variety of reasons. So it was wonderful to be recognized for doing well. I'm not the type to blow my own horn in public. This medium being the one exception, as I know that no one else reads this.

Finally, my student teacher's supervising teacher came to watch her in action. She, like so many others, wanted to see my class in action as they did their projects in Social Studies. To be clear, my student teacher is helping in this one class, and I am the one who brought them to this point in their learning. They were working in groups on their very first group presentations. At the end of the learning and working time, my class went to some special, and the three of us got a chance to talk. The supervising teacher said, although I am putting this into my own words, that she has seen between 60 and 80 classrooms and their teachers in action, and she has never seen project based learning (PBL) done as well as it was done in my class. Never. Then she went on to tell me that she is on the Wisconsin board of Phi Delta Kappa, the professional teachers organization, and she is going to nominate me for some sort of award they give out annually. I was not expecting that, but it felt good. It will be nice if it actually happens.

While I am not the type to sing my own praises, I won't turn my back when others do. It's encouraging to be recognized for doing well, no matter who is the student and who is the teacher.

Not Much. . .

... to write about today. I missed last because I was taking care of my children while my wife was in school. I was also tired. I know, though, that if I go I will enjoy myself, learn something, and I will no longer be tired. Why then, do I stay home? I need to get to the dojo more often.

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.