to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.
I think it is very hard for me to just let things be when I know that they could be better. But as time goes on, I realize that you can't change things when you're not in a position to implement change. In the case of teaching, it actually hurts me to see people not able to do things correctly because of glitches in the system. So what do you do when you're not in a position to make decisions, but you're so closely tied that you have to deal with the results of a flawed system? Not entirely flawed, of course - on the whole quite good - but when there are things that could obviously be better.
After getting myself in trouble for stepping on egos and speaking my mind, I decided that it wasn't worth talking when no one was listening. So one year ago exactly, I resolved to step away from the dojang as a whole, and put my energies into focusing on my private students and anyone else in my classes who would want to work hard and learn things properly.
Perhaps it's taken a whole year, but I derived some satisifaction from this test because you could start to see the difference. Not to be conceited because it's not necessarily because my teaching is so much better than everyone else's. I think that we have many fine instructors, and should any of them choose to be a regular presence and really make personal investments and give serious thought to teaching, our students would be spectacular. But rather than fighting the uphill battle to implement changes from top down, the method of bottom up is starting to show that it works. Perhaps those on top will be too stubborn or blind to see the connection, but these kids that shined today are examples of what the changes and standards I proposed last year could do. So while it's hard to sit by and see problems and solutions and be powerless to make a difference across the board...I suppose I should be happy in knowing that you can still make a difference, one student at a time.
Promotion tests are probably the days I dislike the most. Well, it's more of a love-hate thing, because I deep down I really care about them - but it's precisely because I care so much that it just frustrates me to watch bad technique or (worse) - kids who don't care or don't try. I have very little patience for people who want recognition for things they don't deserve, and seeing the holes in the fabric that could be mended (but are not).
On a side note, this is why I would make the worst vice-president ever in an organization. My worst fear is being second-in-command to someone who either doesn't get the job done, or doesn't do it as well as it could be done. So for all the times I will complain about having to captain a team - sometimes I do it because I'd rather just have the responsibility than have angst that the person who does isn't responsible and then worry about stepping on toes to get things done. There is a part of me that likes to be in charge of efficiency and delegation to make a group run smoothly. I'm type A, that's just the way it is.
My view of a good leader is someone who loves the organization or purpose, can vision for its direction, and find a way to implement that vision. It doesn't mean that you have to be doing everything - and ultimately, a good leader is the one who ends up doing very little actual work. One who can put the needs and the resources together in a way that makes it work. A leader is one who can lead - and that means being someone that people would be willing to follow.
Anyways - that tangent aside - today's test left me with mixed feelings. One the one hand, there were moments of the same-old same-old. Certain belt groups were beyond horrible. Like, it hurt my eyes to watch people be awful, watch people yawn and look around, and give about 20% effort. And it was positively painful to sit through board break after board break because they give each kid unlimited tries until s/he finally breaks it. I think that by the third try it's inherently obvious whether someone has proper technique to break it or not. And if they don't - then just stop it and note they didn't break it. The test is not the time to be teaching someone how to do something. It's supposed to be a TEST - a display of what you know, not a display of what you don't know. Some of these kids looked as though they'd never seen some of these techniques before and it was obvious that no one had broken it down for them properly.
However, on the other hand, I was extremely proud of certain parts of the test. There were some in the bunch that were absolutely fabulous. Certain people that I've seen suffer through hard classes but show up faithfully and work themselves hard made huge strides this test. And of course I'm biased, but I had 6 private students testing and 1 more finishing off his black belt board break - and they all stood out. Ken (adult) finally broke his boards in an impressive first try to earn his black belt, Julian (13) had an overall good black belt test showing great progress despite not breaking his boards, Lindsey (8) and Willie (10) had awesome red belt tests (theirs was the most impressive performance of the whole test, imho, and well deserving of the comment from Sabs that "this is what a red belt test should be"), Scott (13) (and the whole group) pulled out his 2nd dan test in a crowd-pleasing show, Neely (7) showed some good determination and technique in a group of atrocious green belts, and even little Sam (my 6 year old white belt) showed that he knew his stuff.
So although this was probably one of the most difficult and tiring days...in the end it was validating that I can make a little bit of a difference around here, despite whatever and whoever stands above me. The question is - is that little bit of a difference worth it?
These people (well, mostly my kids) are the reason that I can't ever meet up with my friends for dinner during the week. Why I spend whole days coaching at mind-numbing local competitions. Why I lose my voice yelling and am forced to bust out the whistle.
I guess that's what teaching is. For all the students who don't try, for all the beauracracy to try and improve the system, for all the people who can find ways to make you feel unappreciated - it's for the investment in individuals and being able to make a difference in one person's life. To pass on some knowledge, some love, some passion that you hold, and see them grow to learn, to love, and to be passionate - that's what teaching is about. So at the end of the day, while it was very touching that Julian (and Ken and Mel back in Dec at their test) gave me special thanks when they were asked to say something about their TKD experience...it wasn't that acknowledgement that made it special.
It was the look of bewilderment on Lindsey's face when she was told to do a 360 spinning hook kick - a technique that she hadn't learned yet because it was for the next rank - and giving her a 2 second explanation of how to do it and telling her to go...and watching her do it. It was the huge smile that broke out on Willie's face when he broke his board on the first try - with the kick that he couldn't come close to doing properly a month ago. The grin as he sat there on the mat, oblivious to the world because he was so proud of himself. It was hearing Ken's kiyup that held his determination, and knowing even before he did it that those boards would break.
And above all, it was watching Julian get on the mat and take his test by himself. The kid who was once full of excuses, who cried at every lesson, who negotiated every drill, who couldn't do a proper pushup or a proper turning kick. Who never aspired to shoot for his black belt because it would take too much. His test wasn't perfect, and there was room for improvement - but seeing him contain his nervousness and fear in a respectable manner, and put his heart on the mat...and show that there is determination within - those are the moments for which it becomes worth it.
It amazes me that he was such a difficult kid that I almost dropped him for private lessons. After the first month, I was ready to tell his mother that I couldn't work with him because it was too much babysitting and not productive enough to be worth anyone's time.
I'm sure glad I didn't give up on him.
No comments:
Post a Comment