Bully Prevention Skills: What My Students are Learning will Astound You

Since my Taekwondo students and I began sharing space at a ving tsun kung fu school, we’ve had some powerful end-of-class discussions. I’m convinced it’s the vibe. The studio’s chi invites honest, open communication; compassion; and awareness.

Yesterday’s mat chat was another mind-blower. It all started when I asked everyone how school was going.

Most nodded. “Good,” they said.

“Today I had a problem with this kid,” Neal, a nine-year-old orange belt, offered.

“Oh?” I said. “Tell us about it.”

“He threw a football at my back—twice. I told him not to do it because I had rods in my back and that he could really hurt me. I even showed him my scars.”

Twice a year, Neal undergoes a surgical procedure to help his spine grow properly.

“Wow,” I said. “And did the kid keep throwing the football at you after that?”

“No. I don’t think he realized that when I told him that I had surgery that it was serious,” Neal said, his eyes growing wide.

I sat there for a moment, taking in how a nine-year-old could muster up this much courage.

“I’m so proud of you for confronting him,” I said. “I’m also proud of how you did it. You didn’t shame him or call him names or lash out in anger. You educated him on something he was clueless about.”

Neal smiled. “I just don’t think he realized how serious it was.”

Elliott, an eleven-year-old green belt, shared next. He’d been struggling to be heard by an Ultimate Frisbee teammate. The older, bigger classmate was pairing up people to guard opposing players without regard for his teammates’ preferences.

“I’m really sorry he’s doing that,” I said. “How could this be different?”

“I’m not sure,” Elliott said.

“Does this kid bully everyone on the field?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well then what if you talked to some of your peers about standing up to him as a group.”

Elliott paused. I sensed discomfort.

“Can you at least think about it?”

“Yes, I’ll think about it.”

“Because here’s the deal: Can you play Ultimate Frisbee by yourself?”

“No!” everyone in the class answered.

“So if as a group you told him that his behavior was unacceptable and that if he didn’t let other teammates participate in the pairings, none of you would play anymore, he wouldn’t have anyone to play with, would he? Then he might be willing to change. You’ll never know until you try it out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Elliott repeated.

Last to share was Alice, a ten-year-old purple belt.

“There’s this boy in my class who’s been really mean to me,” she began. “But then I saw him with his father at open house night at school, and his father was really mean to him. I felt sorry for him that he was growing up like that. And I saw why he’s mean. So I decided to be his friend.”

The room suddenly became so quiet that you could have heard a feather drop.

A parent listening from the spectator section whispered, “Oh, wow.”

“That is mature beyond years, young lady,” I said. “You’re so right about why he acts that way, too. Kids aren’t born bullies. It’s a learned behavior. He learned it from someone else.

“And you know, guys, this is exactly what we need to keep in mind when someone is ugly to us. It’s not you. It’s them. They have the problem. And Alice, I’m so incredibly proud of you. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said with a sweet smile.

Though it was sad to hear that so many of my students were struggling with bullies, it also was encouraging to see that their martial arts training was paying huge dividends.

You’re the Kind of Black Belt I Like to Promote

Carlos is a ten-year-old, soft-spoken orange belt with a full head of thick, black hair. He is quietly yet quickly working his way up the belt ranks. I smile every time he bows onto the mat because he’s a good kid and a hard worker.

His mother came up to me after class yesterday.

“I need to tell you something,” she began. This usually is the beginning of a conversation involving character unbecoming one of my students—but not always.

“I wanted you to know that he’s been doing really well in school. As and Bs on his report card. He even helped this boy with his math homework every day after class because his classmate was struggling. He won’t tell you. He doesn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

Carlos was sitting on the linoleum floor in the corner of the room, putting on his sneakers. I curled up my finger, motioning for him to come over.

“You’re mom told me what you did—helping your classmate.”

He nodded.

“Good job! I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he humbly replied.

“What I’m most proud of is that you practiced Basic Rules to Live By No. 10—“We must respect our teachers and peers”—without me challenging you to do so. You helped someone who needed help. No one told you you’d get a stripe for it. You could have told your classmate, ‘Too bad, so sad. Good luck with your homework, buddy.’ But you didn’t.

“Plus, you helped another with no expectation of reward. A lot of people will do things for others, but they typically expect something in return. You did it just to help someone. And that’s what all this kicking and punching is really all about: becoming stronger in mind, body, and spirit, and then helping others become stronger too.

“You’re the kind of black belt I like to promote.”

Carlos smiled shyly and humbly bowed.

I spend thousands of hours helping students perfect blocks, strikes, kicks, rolls, and falls, and an assortment of self-defense strategies. That’s what I do, and I’m fairly good at it. I’m mindful, however, to spend equal time mentoring these same students to develop humility, selflessness, and compassion. If I don’t, then I've cheated them out of the opportunity to practice big-picture martial arts. It may sound strange, but I’m not proudest when I see one of my students perform a flying side kick over six people. A flying side kick is hugely popular in demonstrations creates a great wow factor. But it won't change the world. Selfless acts of kindness and compassion—and a deep well of patience—will.

Carlos wants a black belt, that’s obvious. And if he sticks with Taekwondo, I'll one day wrap a piece of black cloth around his waist. But he will not only have a black belt. More important, he will be one.