Austin women, I’m so proud of you. Don’t quit now.
Our city has had a rough start to 2012. A rash of assaults and the murder of 29-year-old Esme Barrera early Jan. 1 shattered Austin’s sense of security. Women feared solo trips to the grocery store at night, jogging alone at sunrise, and walking their dogs in neighborhoods where they had once felt safe.
In 11 years as a self-defense instructor, I’ve learned that in times as these, women either become ostriches or rise to fight.
Austin, you rose.
As tragic and heartbreaking as Barrera’s murder was, it burst open a floodgate of moms, daughters, career women, and sorority sisters taking proactive steps toward self-protection. Women snagged free pepper spray and self-defense classes. (About 300 women signed up for just one of many free self-defense courses offered by local martial arts schools.) Women of all ages, sizes, races, and financial means were eager to feel safe again.
In Krav Maga, Taekwondo, Ving Tsun Kung Fu, and other martial arts studios across the city, women learned to become aware of their surroundings, set and enforce boundaries, and apply simple, effective strikes to vulnerable areas of the body. They learned to kick shins, knee groins, and stomp feet; scrape and gouge eyes and punch and break noses; use their voice with confidence (at least two recent attempted assaults were thwarted by Austin women who cried out for help), and identify weapons of opportunity (a comb end thrust into an attacker’s throat, lip balm jammed deeply into the eye, the firm edge of a credit card pushed against the base of the nose).
Students repeatedly asked me, “Do these techniques work? I mean, will they REALLY work against a big guy who’s much stronger than me?” Again and again, I replied, “Yes, as long as you don’t panic, target soft zones, are explosive and relentless, and don’t quit. When you’re free, run.”
I’ve never witnessed such massive transformations. Once scared and meek women stood taller, spoke louder and clearer, and grew stronger and more empowered. They shared stories of past assaults. Some revealed their trauma to another for the first time, found support, and began an imperfect path toward healing.
Many women were understandably relieved the night the Austin Police Department announced that James Loren Brown, the prime suspect in Barrera’s murder and a string of other assaults, had committed suicide.
However, the harsh reality is that Austin—and the nation—has more than one perpetrator. Consider these sobering U.S. statistics:
• One in six American women have been victims of rape—either by a stranger or by an acquaintance, according to the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network.
• More than 600 women are raped or sexually assaulted in the United States every day, according to a National Crime Victimization Survey.
• About 60 percent of sexual assaults are NEVER REPORTED to police.
Life amid so much violence can be overwhelmingly disheartening and terrifying. But Austin women, you rose. You chose not to be victims. You have thus far been determined to not become a crime statistic by being diligent and unreasonable regarding personal safety. And now some of you are turning to female neighbors and co-workers and sharing what you've learned:
• Make yourself a hard target. Be aware of your surroundings. Lift your heads from the text you’re about to send and look around. Who’s there? Who’s not there?
• Trust your intuition. When your gut is screaming that something’s not right, oftentimes, it isn't. Believe in what your body is saying.
• FIGHT. When awareness and escape fail, be explosive, vicious, and unrelenting. Use your hands, feet, voice, and any other weapon within reach. Don’t stop fighting until you’re free and safe.
"But seriously," women repeat, "do these techniques really work?"
Ask 7-year-old Brittney Baxter, who fought off a would-be kidnapper last week in the toy aisle of a Walmart in Bremen, Ga. She struggled and screamed until her attacker let go.
Violent individuals are in our world—in aisles of super stores, in parking garages, on hiking trails, and in other places you might least expect. A woman can be aware and safety-mindful, and perpetrators may still cross her path. For instance, I consider myself uber aware, and that didn't stop a scary incident from happening recently.
Last week while I walked home at night from the boxing gym, a man in a Chevy “Good Times”-like van with duct-tape covered windows tried to lure me toward him by acting concerned.
He drove by me slowly and stopped a few yards ahead. So I stopped walking.
“You all right?” he asked, careful not to stick his head out of the van or show his face. I heard only his voice.
“I’m fine. Keep going,” I said. I was still wearing hand wraps from boxing class; I was obviously O.K. But he didn’t budge. Neither did I.
“You all right?” he asked again.
A little louder and more firm, I repeated, “I’m fine!”
Finally, he drove away—slowly. Once the van was out of sight, I ran home and called 911.
The need for self-defense technology is real—necessary for average women and veteran martial artists alike. (I'm a third-degree black belt in Taekwondo. I can break stacks of boards and tile with the blade edge of my hand, but I still have to practice self-defense skills every day.) Last week, I was able to stay safe by keeping my distance, remaining strong, and speaking confidently. More women and girls need these simple, basic tools.
Austin women, I’m proud that so many of you have been proactive about your safety since New Year’s Day. You've refused to be paralyzed by fear. You've willingly stepped outside your comfort zone. But don’t let your guard down now. Don’t let Barrera’s murderer and other perpetrators threaten your future safety and steal your freedom. Austin women, you’ve come so far. Don’t quit now.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Perseverance Quote of the Month
“If you run into a wall, don’t turn around and give up. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it.”
— Michael Jordan, legendary basketball player
— Michael Jordan, legendary basketball player
Friday, November 11, 2011
I Speak Gratitude
This month my students and I are on a quest to find one thing to be grateful for every day. Our aim? To see whether the spirits of people—even those grieving a loss—can be buoyed by being thankful for life’s gifts on a daily basis. Not the iPad kind of gift, but rather the things we often take for granted.
The Gratitude Experiment couldn't have come at a better time. Life has hit me hard lately. For months I have been struggling with knee and foot issues. In late October, my partner and I had to put down our 15-year-old dachshund terrier Momo after an agonizingly long decline. Within the same week, I was served papers notifying me that an ex-student had filed a lawsuit seeking damages from an injury she had suffered while sparring 15 months earlier.
But I have faith that this exercise will help me stay out of self-pity, move through and let go of grief and anger, and stay positive. If it works, I’ll definitely pull it out every November as a homework assignment for my martial arts students—and I might continue myself year-round.
Here we go:
Nov. 1
Day 1 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I’m sober today.
Nov. 2
Day 2 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that, save for my inherited osteoarthritic knees, I’m in good general health.
Nov. 3
Day 3 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for my wonderful, beautiful, resourceful, and staggeringly creative partner. She amazes me more every day.
Nov. 4
Day 4 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for my warm, cuddly, awesome pets (three dogs, one cat) that love me unconditionally and make me smile and laugh daily. I still miss Momo, our 15-year-old dachshund terrier that we had to put down late last month, but today I’m grateful that we had all the wonderful years we did with her.
Nov. 5
Day 5 of Thanksgiving: On a chilly morning, I’m grateful that SUMMER’S FINALLY OVER in Texas!
Nov. 6
Day 6 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I live in Austin, Texas, a super dog-friendly city with lots of off-leash parks.
Nov. 7
Day 7 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for all of life’s difficulties—the things that have made me/allowed me to face fears and overcome obstacles and adversities. All of these trials have molded me into the strong woman I am today.
Nov. 8
Day 8 of Thanksgiving: Considering the state of this nation’s economy, I’m grateful that I have a job that pays enough to cover ALL my bills.
Nov. 9
Day 9 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for family—mine and Mare’s. I have the funniest little bingo-blotter-wielding mom in the world. I’m also grateful for some awesome in-laws. I love them and they love me. Not everyone who’s married can say that. Even fewer who are gay can say that. I am truly fortunate.
Nov. 10
Day 10 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for three very important things: health, sanity, and, umm, what’s that third one there. Let’s see…O.K., so health, sanity, and—let’s see. I can’t. The third one…I can’t. Sorry. Oops…. (Thank you, Texas Gov. Rick Perry, for reminding me that I’m grateful to have a sense of humor.)
Nov. 11
Day 11 of Thanksgiving: It’s Veteran’s Day, and I’m grateful for all the servicemen and women past and present who’ve fought for our country, but especially Uncle Marvin. He fought in Vietnam and then was a drill sergeant stateside. As a result of his traumatic experiences in Asia, he went through some very rough patches during his life—persevering through pain others could see but of which he would never speak. Thank you, Uncle Marvin, and all the men and women who’ve ever worn a military uniform. You’ve kept me, my family, and my neighbors, students, and colleagues free and safe. For that, I’m truly grateful.
Nov. 12
Day 12 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful today that I can hear. I can hear the quiet of an early morning. I can hear my cute, sweet, smart yet neurotic dog Dudley bark his head off at some unseen danger in the backyard. I can hear Mare burp in the kitchen and then belt out Tarzan yells like Carol Burnett as she gets dressed in the bedroom. I can hear birds tweet outside (not the Twitter kind). I can hear, and life sounds wonderful.
Nov. 13
Day 13 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for one of my Taekwondo students, who years ago when he was age 9 intervened on behalf of a classmate when a bully pulled his classmate's pants down in the boys restroom. Then my student did the right thing—the brave thing: he told his teacher. As a result, school administrators discovered that the bully had done this to others, and he was disciplined. I'm proud of my student. He helped stop a monstrous bully. He stepped forward to help a weaker, smaller peer. At 9 years old, he was a bigger man than any of those "men" at Penn State.
Nov. 14
Day 14 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for my 12-step recovery program, specifically Step 1, which reminds me that I'm powerless over people, institutions, and certain events. It's OK to stick with the winners, and, as a result, let go of toxic, drama-addicted people.
Nov. 15
Day 15 of Thanksgiving: It's raining today in drought-stricken Texas. Thank you, Sky Gods.
Nov. 16
Day 16 of Thanksgiving: Today I have yet another doctor's appointment. My left foot is swollen AGAIN. I'm grateful, though, that I have a left foot. And a right one, too.
Nov. 17
Day 17 of Thanksgiving: I have the best dream life. I've always dreamed in color, and the images are vivid. Lately I've been having recurring travel dreams, sharing my time between Paris and Las Vegas. It's an adventure every night!
Nov. 18
Day 18 of Thanksgiving: I'm blessed with the best Taekwondo students in the world. Their growth continues to amaze me!
Nov. 19
Day 19 of Thanksgiving: I have comfort: a small (cozy) house, and in that house is a livingroom with a comfy couch. On that couch, covered by warm and loving dogs, I get to take the occasional nap. I'm lucky. I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my belly. I have comfort. Priceless.
Nov. 20
Day 20 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for the transformation of butterflies. They remind me that no matter what may seem wrong with my life, change—big change—is just around the corner. Today, a friend gave me the honor of releasing Monarch butterfly No. 9 from their makeshift den sanctuary. I named him Momo for our dog who died right around the time that the caterpillar cocooned. Then I let him go. It was a beautiful moment.
Nov. 21
Day 21 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful that I don't beat up on myself for little things as much anymore—like forgetting to post this gratitude yesterday.
Nov. 22
Day 22 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for my day job. A competitor laid off a bunch of people last week. Times are tough everywhere these days. So I'm grateful that I have a job, first of all, and that I have the kind of job that is going to pay me to go eat, nap, and play board games with my family on Thursday AND Friday. What a gift.
Nov. 23
Day 23 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I don’t live in Yemen or Egypt, where a revolution could break out on any given day with little warning. I’m also glad that I don’t live in Afghanistan, where, according to a CNN.com article, a woman who is raped has to either suffer 12 years in jail or marry her attacker.
Nov. 24
Day 24 of Thanksgiving: OMG, IT’S FINALLY THANKSGIVING! Today I’m grateful for Angie Van Heel, who invited others to join her in a 30 Days of Thanksgiving (Gratitude) practice. The problems I had 24 days ago have not changed. They’re all still here. Yet I somehow feel better about my life. Hmmm. Thanks, Angie!
Nov. 25
Day 25 of Thanksgiving: Today I’m grateful for a circle of good friends (who answer to either The Yayas or The Domino Divas), a good meal, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of ocean waves. A weekend with friends at the beach: Awesome.
Nov. 26
Day 26 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for old songs like “Rocky Mountain High” by John Denver that bring back good memories of gentler times.
Nov. 27
Day 27 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for a day of living in the moment. Today, I had an unexpected adventure that I’d have missed if the day had unfolded according to my piddley plans. The Power of Now: It’s more than the title of a bestselling book!
Nov. 28
Day 28 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for Texas Ruby red grapefruit. It’s light and rich in vitamin C (a good thing during cold and flu season). Not everyone in the United States can get this fruit, either. Lucky!
Nov. 29
Day 29 of Thanksgiving: I won! I won! I won! I won an award in an essay contest sponsored by the Embassy of the Republic of Korea. Today, I’m grateful for the gifts of martial arts and writing. Most of all, I’m grateful to the topic of my essay: Stephen, a kid with ADHD. Through Taekwondo, Stephen developed (1) the focus to notice one summer day that his sister was drowning at the bottom of a family friend’s pool; (2) the courage to act quickly as he dove down to the bottom; and (3) the physical strength to grab his sister bear-hug style and kick them both to the surface and to safety. I’m excited about the award, but it doesn’t come close to trumping Stephen's heroic actions.
Nov. 30
Day 30 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for gratitude and the power of choice. No matter what happens in my life, I can choose to be grateful—to see something positive in one thing every day. If you’ve never tried the Gratitude Experiment, I highly recommend it. It has been quite a powerful and empowering journey.
But I have faith that this exercise will help me stay out of self-pity, move through and let go of grief and anger, and stay positive. If it works, I’ll definitely pull it out every November as a homework assignment for my martial arts students—and I might continue myself year-round.
Here we go:
Nov. 1
Day 1 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I’m sober today.
Nov. 2
Day 2 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that, save for my inherited osteoarthritic knees, I’m in good general health.
Nov. 3
Day 3 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for my wonderful, beautiful, resourceful, and staggeringly creative partner. She amazes me more every day.
Nov. 4
Day 4 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for my warm, cuddly, awesome pets (three dogs, one cat) that love me unconditionally and make me smile and laugh daily. I still miss Momo, our 15-year-old dachshund terrier that we had to put down late last month, but today I’m grateful that we had all the wonderful years we did with her.
Nov. 5
Day 5 of Thanksgiving: On a chilly morning, I’m grateful that SUMMER’S FINALLY OVER in Texas!
Nov. 6
Day 6 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I live in Austin, Texas, a super dog-friendly city with lots of off-leash parks.
Nov. 7
Day 7 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for all of life’s difficulties—the things that have made me/allowed me to face fears and overcome obstacles and adversities. All of these trials have molded me into the strong woman I am today.
Nov. 8
Day 8 of Thanksgiving: Considering the state of this nation’s economy, I’m grateful that I have a job that pays enough to cover ALL my bills.
Nov. 9
Day 9 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for family—mine and Mare’s. I have the funniest little bingo-blotter-wielding mom in the world. I’m also grateful for some awesome in-laws. I love them and they love me. Not everyone who’s married can say that. Even fewer who are gay can say that. I am truly fortunate.
Nov. 10
Day 10 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for three very important things: health, sanity, and, umm, what’s that third one there. Let’s see…O.K., so health, sanity, and—let’s see. I can’t. The third one…I can’t. Sorry. Oops…. (Thank you, Texas Gov. Rick Perry, for reminding me that I’m grateful to have a sense of humor.)
Nov. 11
Day 11 of Thanksgiving: It’s Veteran’s Day, and I’m grateful for all the servicemen and women past and present who’ve fought for our country, but especially Uncle Marvin. He fought in Vietnam and then was a drill sergeant stateside. As a result of his traumatic experiences in Asia, he went through some very rough patches during his life—persevering through pain others could see but of which he would never speak. Thank you, Uncle Marvin, and all the men and women who’ve ever worn a military uniform. You’ve kept me, my family, and my neighbors, students, and colleagues free and safe. For that, I’m truly grateful.
Nov. 12
Day 12 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful today that I can hear. I can hear the quiet of an early morning. I can hear my cute, sweet, smart yet neurotic dog Dudley bark his head off at some unseen danger in the backyard. I can hear Mare burp in the kitchen and then belt out Tarzan yells like Carol Burnett as she gets dressed in the bedroom. I can hear birds tweet outside (not the Twitter kind). I can hear, and life sounds wonderful.
Nov. 13
Day 13 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for one of my Taekwondo students, who years ago when he was age 9 intervened on behalf of a classmate when a bully pulled his classmate's pants down in the boys restroom. Then my student did the right thing—the brave thing: he told his teacher. As a result, school administrators discovered that the bully had done this to others, and he was disciplined. I'm proud of my student. He helped stop a monstrous bully. He stepped forward to help a weaker, smaller peer. At 9 years old, he was a bigger man than any of those "men" at Penn State.
Nov. 14
Day 14 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for my 12-step recovery program, specifically Step 1, which reminds me that I'm powerless over people, institutions, and certain events. It's OK to stick with the winners, and, as a result, let go of toxic, drama-addicted people.
Nov. 15
Day 15 of Thanksgiving: It's raining today in drought-stricken Texas. Thank you, Sky Gods.
Nov. 16
Day 16 of Thanksgiving: Today I have yet another doctor's appointment. My left foot is swollen AGAIN. I'm grateful, though, that I have a left foot. And a right one, too.
Nov. 17
Day 17 of Thanksgiving: I have the best dream life. I've always dreamed in color, and the images are vivid. Lately I've been having recurring travel dreams, sharing my time between Paris and Las Vegas. It's an adventure every night!
Nov. 18
Day 18 of Thanksgiving: I'm blessed with the best Taekwondo students in the world. Their growth continues to amaze me!
Nov. 19
Day 19 of Thanksgiving: I have comfort: a small (cozy) house, and in that house is a livingroom with a comfy couch. On that couch, covered by warm and loving dogs, I get to take the occasional nap. I'm lucky. I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my belly. I have comfort. Priceless.
Nov. 20
Day 20 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for the transformation of butterflies. They remind me that no matter what may seem wrong with my life, change—big change—is just around the corner. Today, a friend gave me the honor of releasing Monarch butterfly No. 9 from their makeshift den sanctuary. I named him Momo for our dog who died right around the time that the caterpillar cocooned. Then I let him go. It was a beautiful moment.
Nov. 21
Day 21 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful that I don't beat up on myself for little things as much anymore—like forgetting to post this gratitude yesterday.
Nov. 22
Day 22 of Thanksgiving: I'm grateful for my day job. A competitor laid off a bunch of people last week. Times are tough everywhere these days. So I'm grateful that I have a job, first of all, and that I have the kind of job that is going to pay me to go eat, nap, and play board games with my family on Thursday AND Friday. What a gift.
Nov. 23
Day 23 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful that I don’t live in Yemen or Egypt, where a revolution could break out on any given day with little warning. I’m also glad that I don’t live in Afghanistan, where, according to a CNN.com article, a woman who is raped has to either suffer 12 years in jail or marry her attacker.
Nov. 24
Day 24 of Thanksgiving: OMG, IT’S FINALLY THANKSGIVING! Today I’m grateful for Angie Van Heel, who invited others to join her in a 30 Days of Thanksgiving (Gratitude) practice. The problems I had 24 days ago have not changed. They’re all still here. Yet I somehow feel better about my life. Hmmm. Thanks, Angie!
Nov. 25
Day 25 of Thanksgiving: Today I’m grateful for a circle of good friends (who answer to either The Yayas or The Domino Divas), a good meal, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of ocean waves. A weekend with friends at the beach: Awesome.
Day 26 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for old songs like “Rocky Mountain High” by John Denver that bring back good memories of gentler times.
Nov. 27
Day 27 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for a day of living in the moment. Today, I had an unexpected adventure that I’d have missed if the day had unfolded according to my piddley plans. The Power of Now: It’s more than the title of a bestselling book!
Nov. 28
Day 28 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for Texas Ruby red grapefruit. It’s light and rich in vitamin C (a good thing during cold and flu season). Not everyone in the United States can get this fruit, either. Lucky!
Day 29 of Thanksgiving: I won! I won! I won! I won an award in an essay contest sponsored by the Embassy of the Republic of Korea. Today, I’m grateful for the gifts of martial arts and writing. Most of all, I’m grateful to the topic of my essay: Stephen, a kid with ADHD. Through Taekwondo, Stephen developed (1) the focus to notice one summer day that his sister was drowning at the bottom of a family friend’s pool; (2) the courage to act quickly as he dove down to the bottom; and (3) the physical strength to grab his sister bear-hug style and kick them both to the surface and to safety. I’m excited about the award, but it doesn’t come close to trumping Stephen's heroic actions.
Nov. 30
Day 30 of Thanksgiving: I’m grateful for gratitude and the power of choice. No matter what happens in my life, I can choose to be grateful—to see something positive in one thing every day. If you’ve never tried the Gratitude Experiment, I highly recommend it. It has been quite a powerful and empowering journey.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Gratitude Quote of the Week
“If you’ve forgotten the language of gratitude, you’ll never be on speaking terms with happiness.”
— Anonymous
— Anonymous
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Courage Quote of the Week
“To know what is right and not to do it is the worst cowardice.”
— Confucius
— Confucius
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Art of Giving and Receiving Love
The other day, another parent said, "We love you, Ms. Cathy."
I’ve heard it before. In fact, I get that sentiment a lot. And yet I’m still surprised. I’ve practiced Taekwondo for 19 years now (11 years teaching), and I know that I’ve done a lot of good for others, especially children. Still, I'm always on guard, trying to strike a healthy balance between good self-esteem and humility. (Trust me: My ego can balloon with the best of them.)
Parents and students do love me and the work that I do, and they show me and tell me in a myriad ways.
Families bring me cookies and cards throughout the year. During the winter holiday season, they shower me with gift certificates to Starbucks and Barnes & Noble. Students write me Valentine’s Day poems and give me lollipops on their birthdays. Some Tiny Texans run up and wrap their arms around my dobok pant legs, squeezing out a big hug. One time, an anonymous donor left an envelope containing $200 cash on my office desk. It’s rare that a parent comes up and gives me a big, strong bear hug and a kiss on the cheek, but that’s happened too. (That one may always surprise me.)
These moments of thanksgiving have happened so often that you’d think I would have gotten used to them by now. After all, I’m an empowering teacher who invests a lot of energy in inspiring others, especially my young students. What goes around comes around, eh? Yet the love and acts of kindness that my students and parents show me always take my breath away. I’m genuinely touched. And on many levels, it’s difficult to take in all that love.
It’s always been easier for me to be the compliment giver than the receiver, to Aikido-deflect a nice sentiment. It’s also always been easier for me to believe a negative statement about myself rather than a positive one.
After all these years of powerful training, I’m slightly baffled that I still have much to learn about the art of building and maintaining self-confidence and self-esteem amid humility.
I continue to try, though. If I want my students to believe all the encouraging words I say to them, then I have to be able to let those messages in myself—to not discount sweet words that parents and students often convey.
Last week at the YMCA, I got more than my fair share of practice in the art of taking compliments. Many parents were excited about the results of my latest character-building homework assignment.
To earn a black stripe on their belt, students were encouraged to do something nice for their parents—take out the trash, set the table for dinner, clear the table after dinner, clean their room, put away their toys—without their parents either knowing about it or asking them to do it.
“You can do anything,” I told students in my Tiny Texans and Youth Beginner’s class earlier in the week, “ANYTHING! Just don’t tell your parents. It has to be a surprise! And if they ask you to do that task, it’s too late. It doesn’t count. So if your parents are always reminding you to brush your teeth before bed, brush your teeth RIGHT AFTER DINNER! Beat them to it!”
On Thursday, 3-year-old Izzie—a meek and long, blond-haired Cinderella wannabe—was the first to report her progress.
“Ms. Cathy,” the Tiny Texan squeaked, “I strapped myself into my car seat without mommy’s help.”
“WOW!” I said, looking over at her parents. Izzie’s mom nodded in affirmation. “I’ll bet that makes your parents very happy because they know you’ll stay safe in the car.”
Izzie nodded silently. Her mom smiled wide, pride beaming from her face.
For successfully completing her character homework, Izzie received a black stripe on her white belt. Now Izzie was smiling as wide as her mom. As I cut the electrical tape off and pressed its end firmly to Izzie’s belt, I gave her some encouraging words.
“You’re smart,” I began. “Strapping yourself into your car seat is a very important task. It will help your parents know that you’re riding safe, and the more you do little things like this to keep yourself safe, the more your mommy and daddy will trust you in the future to take on more big-girl tasks.
“So keep up the good work!”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Izzie said softly with a shy smile. Her mom mouthed a silent “thank you.” I nodded approvingly and mouthed an equally silent “you’re welcome.”
In the next class, Ricky, a petite, 6-year-old yellow-stripe white belt, tugged on my dobok sleeve. He had something important to tell me about his homework assignment.
“Ms. Cathy,” he said, “I went to bed without my parents telling me to.”
“That’s fabulous!” I said, as I gave him a high-five palm slap. “I bet your parents appreciated that, huh?”
“Oh, yeah!” said his mom, who was standing nearby.
“I’m very proud of you,” I said to Ricky. “Do you know why?”
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“You’re helping your parents. They’re not trying to be mean to you when they tell you that it’s time for bed. You see, they know your body needs a certain number of hours of sleep so that you can grow. When your body gets lots of rest, you’ll grow big, tall, and strong!”
Ricky’s eyes grew wide.
“Keep up the great work, son,” I said, wrapping a black stripe around his white belt. “If you keep going to bed when you’re supposed to without complaint and you keep getting all the rest you need, pretty soon you’ll be taller than me!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Ricky said, grinning.
“And then I won’t want to spar you anymore because you’ll be so strong that you’ll kick me into next week.”
Ricky smiled wider.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.
“Comsah hamnidah,” I said in Korean, and then in English, “Thank you!”
Ricky’s mom reached out her hand to shake. “Thank you for all you do,” she said. “You’re teaching our kids so many great lessons. It’s more than Taekwondo.”
I tried to take it in.
“You’re welcome.” I finally said.
As Ricky and his mom turned to go, I noticed another parent, the mother of a 6-year-old white belt, who had been patiently waiting nearby. She had a serious look on her face. Right or wrong, I immediately thought, "Oh no, what'd I do?"
“I don’t know if you realize how important you are,” she began. I sighed a bit on the inside. “You’re surrounded by angels. I know you don’t really know me very well, but I have to tell you that it is so refreshing to find a teacher like you. We are all so grateful. You are very special, and we love what you do for our kids.”
I’ve heard this before too (yes, even the part about being surrounded by angels). But holy tamale, I’ve never known what to say. Or do you say anything?
I stood there and practiced receiving love.
“Thank you,” I said simply. “Thank you for your kind words. I really appreciate your support.”
I’ve heard it before. In fact, I get that sentiment a lot. And yet I’m still surprised. I’ve practiced Taekwondo for 19 years now (11 years teaching), and I know that I’ve done a lot of good for others, especially children. Still, I'm always on guard, trying to strike a healthy balance between good self-esteem and humility. (Trust me: My ego can balloon with the best of them.)
Parents and students do love me and the work that I do, and they show me and tell me in a myriad ways.
Families bring me cookies and cards throughout the year. During the winter holiday season, they shower me with gift certificates to Starbucks and Barnes & Noble. Students write me Valentine’s Day poems and give me lollipops on their birthdays. Some Tiny Texans run up and wrap their arms around my dobok pant legs, squeezing out a big hug. One time, an anonymous donor left an envelope containing $200 cash on my office desk. It’s rare that a parent comes up and gives me a big, strong bear hug and a kiss on the cheek, but that’s happened too. (That one may always surprise me.)
These moments of thanksgiving have happened so often that you’d think I would have gotten used to them by now. After all, I’m an empowering teacher who invests a lot of energy in inspiring others, especially my young students. What goes around comes around, eh? Yet the love and acts of kindness that my students and parents show me always take my breath away. I’m genuinely touched. And on many levels, it’s difficult to take in all that love.
It’s always been easier for me to be the compliment giver than the receiver, to Aikido-deflect a nice sentiment. It’s also always been easier for me to believe a negative statement about myself rather than a positive one.
After all these years of powerful training, I’m slightly baffled that I still have much to learn about the art of building and maintaining self-confidence and self-esteem amid humility.
I continue to try, though. If I want my students to believe all the encouraging words I say to them, then I have to be able to let those messages in myself—to not discount sweet words that parents and students often convey.
Last week at the YMCA, I got more than my fair share of practice in the art of taking compliments. Many parents were excited about the results of my latest character-building homework assignment.
To earn a black stripe on their belt, students were encouraged to do something nice for their parents—take out the trash, set the table for dinner, clear the table after dinner, clean their room, put away their toys—without their parents either knowing about it or asking them to do it.
“You can do anything,” I told students in my Tiny Texans and Youth Beginner’s class earlier in the week, “ANYTHING! Just don’t tell your parents. It has to be a surprise! And if they ask you to do that task, it’s too late. It doesn’t count. So if your parents are always reminding you to brush your teeth before bed, brush your teeth RIGHT AFTER DINNER! Beat them to it!”
On Thursday, 3-year-old Izzie—a meek and long, blond-haired Cinderella wannabe—was the first to report her progress.
“Ms. Cathy,” the Tiny Texan squeaked, “I strapped myself into my car seat without mommy’s help.”
“WOW!” I said, looking over at her parents. Izzie’s mom nodded in affirmation. “I’ll bet that makes your parents very happy because they know you’ll stay safe in the car.”
Izzie nodded silently. Her mom smiled wide, pride beaming from her face.
For successfully completing her character homework, Izzie received a black stripe on her white belt. Now Izzie was smiling as wide as her mom. As I cut the electrical tape off and pressed its end firmly to Izzie’s belt, I gave her some encouraging words.
“You’re smart,” I began. “Strapping yourself into your car seat is a very important task. It will help your parents know that you’re riding safe, and the more you do little things like this to keep yourself safe, the more your mommy and daddy will trust you in the future to take on more big-girl tasks.
“So keep up the good work!”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Izzie said softly with a shy smile. Her mom mouthed a silent “thank you.” I nodded approvingly and mouthed an equally silent “you’re welcome.”
In the next class, Ricky, a petite, 6-year-old yellow-stripe white belt, tugged on my dobok sleeve. He had something important to tell me about his homework assignment.
“Ms. Cathy,” he said, “I went to bed without my parents telling me to.”
“That’s fabulous!” I said, as I gave him a high-five palm slap. “I bet your parents appreciated that, huh?”
“Oh, yeah!” said his mom, who was standing nearby.
“I’m very proud of you,” I said to Ricky. “Do you know why?”
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“You’re helping your parents. They’re not trying to be mean to you when they tell you that it’s time for bed. You see, they know your body needs a certain number of hours of sleep so that you can grow. When your body gets lots of rest, you’ll grow big, tall, and strong!”
Ricky’s eyes grew wide.
“Keep up the great work, son,” I said, wrapping a black stripe around his white belt. “If you keep going to bed when you’re supposed to without complaint and you keep getting all the rest you need, pretty soon you’ll be taller than me!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Ricky said, grinning.
“And then I won’t want to spar you anymore because you’ll be so strong that you’ll kick me into next week.”
Ricky smiled wider.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.
“Comsah hamnidah,” I said in Korean, and then in English, “Thank you!”
Ricky’s mom reached out her hand to shake. “Thank you for all you do,” she said. “You’re teaching our kids so many great lessons. It’s more than Taekwondo.”
I tried to take it in.
“You’re welcome.” I finally said.
As Ricky and his mom turned to go, I noticed another parent, the mother of a 6-year-old white belt, who had been patiently waiting nearby. She had a serious look on her face. Right or wrong, I immediately thought, "Oh no, what'd I do?"
“I don’t know if you realize how important you are,” she began. I sighed a bit on the inside. “You’re surrounded by angels. I know you don’t really know me very well, but I have to tell you that it is so refreshing to find a teacher like you. We are all so grateful. You are very special, and we love what you do for our kids.”
I’ve heard this before too (yes, even the part about being surrounded by angels). But holy tamale, I’ve never known what to say. Or do you say anything?
I stood there and practiced receiving love.
“Thank you,” I said simply. “Thank you for your kind words. I really appreciate your support.”
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Indomitable Spirit Quote of the Week
“The reward for work well done is the opportunity to do more.”
— Dr. Jonas Salk
Developer of the polio vaccine
— Dr. Jonas Salk
Developer of the polio vaccine
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