June 2019 – The Sensei Issue

Happy Father's Day, and welcome to June 2019’s Shinbun, the "Sensei: issue.

The term “Sensei” (the Japanese word for “teacher”) is a term of respect, intimidation, humility, obedience, affection, fear, and often awe, and it takes as many forms as there are students. I have observed many Sensei’s, and a surprisingly high percentage of them have truly earned the term as well as the privilege of wearing their belt. In comparison with the business world, this is a far higher percentage than I have observed are deserving of the term “boss.” So why do we get it right more often on the mat than we do at work? Why is the matt different? What does it mean to have a Sensei. And what does it mean to be a “Sensei?”

The great majority of subscribers of this newsletter are themselves Sensei’s and most often more skilled in our style than I am. So with the gargantuan size of the topic, and the distinguished audience of this Shinbun, I will be proceeding cautiously and very selectively; I will admittedly only be scratching the surface. Ona gai shimasu.

As always, please send pictures, pieces, ideas for pieces, stories, and upcoming events. I'll get them posted and sent out with the next newsletter.

Yours in Budo,
-Sensei Scot Lynch
Yondan, Tsugiashi-Do

A Ju Jitsu Story for Father’s Day

Late one Wednesday night in the locker room of the Yoshitsune Dojo, near the end of the summer of 1982, Johnny Bradle and Chris Shoolis were speaking after class. They had both received their black belts together the summer before, and Johnny was getting ready to go to start his Freshman year at Old Dominion University in Virginia. Johnny and Chris had come up through the ranks together, and now Johnny would be going off for 4 years of university ROTC and then on to the United States Marine Corps. Johnny needed a favor. The two were in their late teens but had been playing Ju Jitsu together for many years and were both superb players. If Mickey Bradle had an honorary second son, it was Chris Shoolis. Even after a 2 or 3 hour class, Chris and Johnny would typically spar with each other long after everyone else had left the mat.

They entered the locker room as most of the class was dressed and just leaving. I was also little late and saw them come in. As a white belt in awe of both of them, even though I was the only other person in the locker room, I was effectively invisible and could eavesdrop without being noticed.

“Chris, I need you to do something for me,” he said. “Before I leave, I need you to write down the basic instructions for the 38 moves." (Remember, this was before Tsugiashi-Do, and this was before Doc wrote the manuals.) "That way I can read through them and keep them in my memory while I’m gone.”

Chris looked back with a perplexed smile. “Uh, your father’s a Shihan,” he said, almost breaking into a laugh. “And you’re asking me to write down the moves? Why don’t you just get him to do it?”

“No, no, no, you don’t get it,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “If I ask my father to write down the moves,” turning to Chris. “Every move is going to be like a 50 page Book of the Five Rings!”

Chris nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I’ll get them to you next week.“

Happy Father's Day!

Is it a coincidence that that best Sensei's are also the best fathers?

Sensei is Always Being Tested

In the fall of 2003, I was ready to promote two students at my class at the Stamford YMCA to yellow belt. I had just been promoted by my Sensei to Nidan the year before, and this would be the first time I had ever conducted a test of my own for my students. Soke Sensei Cohe drove up from Maryland. The test/promotion was a Friday night, when schedules are often tight.  It was a profound milestone, and my Sensei drove 5 hours to be there. After seiza waza, tachi waza, after all the moves were demonstrated and the freestyle multiple attacks were completed, I presented my students to my Sensei for his final judgement and hopefully approval.

“Your Sensei passed his test,” he said with wry smile. “You’re getting promoted.” He gave them his own “welcome” speech and the warnings about patience and hard work that we are all very familiar with. And then he asked the sensei sitting next to him for his thoughts.

Sensei Shows up

Sitting next to Soke Cohe that night was Sensei Mike Wilson. Sensei Wilson gave up his Friday night and made the drive to Stamford, Connecticut, and he gave it up for a junior sensei (he was Sandan at the time, I was Nidan). But seniority, rank, skill level, or history did not figure into the equation.  My yellow belts found out that night how deep our style goes, not just in talent and ability, but in commitment.  Mike Wilson is a sensei and sensei’s show up. 

Sensei Reaches Out

Eight years later, in the Spring of 2011, I was performing my Sandan demonstration at Tom Fox’s Kent Island dojo, where Soke Sensei had set up shop some years before. I had blown my back out several weeks before and performed the test with a great deal of pain. My partner was a perfectly mobile and better-trained active duty Marine Corps officer 12 years younger than I. (But that is another story.) The drive home on the New Jersey Turnpike was long and rainy; I stopped often for coffee and Advil. I was happy to get home and when I did there were two messages on my answering machine: Both Shihan Mickey Bradle and Sensei Mike Wilson had called me separately and congratulated me on being promoted to Sandan (3rd degree black belt). I was surprised and terribly flattered that these two, senior sensei's, far more accomplished than me, reached out to me after completing a small step they had both achieved long before. It strikes me even now that I received the last and quite possibly the part of my Sandan training (Sensei’s reach out), six hours after I rey’d out of my examination.

Today I enjoy “emeritus” status at Mike Wilson’s dojo in Montville, NJ. He reys me in when I arrive, he asks for my observations at the end of the class, and we rey out and step off the mat together. I consider myself privileged to work with his students, I pass Mike the forbidden “hiden” moves from Tsugiashi-Do Miami (the ones Perez-Sensei forbids me to pass on), I print up the belt certificates for his students, and we have the occasional after-class “tea room” beer at Harrigan’s.

I am grateful and honored to be welcomed in Mike Wilson's dojo.  I am a black belt, a very proud black belt. But Michael Wilson is a Sensei.

Good Reads - J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter Series

There is no one “best” book regarding what it means to have or to be a Sensei. But there are eight that I can highly recommend: J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series.

Professor Albus, Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Head Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, is the quintessential Sensei. But it requires reading all eight volumes to truly understand why. Yes, of course Dumbledore is “the most powerful wizard in the world” (Harry to Tom Riddle, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets). Of course Dumbledore is the only who is can go toe to toe with Lord Voldemort. Of course each student believes that Dumbledore holds them uniquely special in his eyes and will protect them if necessary. Of course all the professors at the Hogwarts school are fiercely loyal to him and revere him nearly to the point of worship. Of course he would (and ultimately did) sacrifice himself for the cause. But it’s the nuances and small qualities the make the difference and make Professor Dumbledore memorable. What he does makes him a good teacher. But what he doesn’t do is more profound and makes him a Sensei.

No it isn’t, said Harry thoughtfully. He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on around here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could.

- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

I’ve compared and cross-checked notes with enough of my fellow Tsugiashi Do sensei’s to understand how much Soke Sensei knew and never let on. Like Professor Dumbledore, Soke Sensei carefully and selectively allowed me to struggle through, to figure things out on my own, and occasionally to make a horse’s ass of myself. Other times he jumped in and saved me quickly, or painstakingly made sure I fully understood something. Sometimes he would let Shihan Mickey Bradle attempt to get a point through my thick skull. And later on, he would construct methodical conceptual explanations for my students that I now understand were really meant for me.

Professor Albus Dumbledore is everything we expect in a Master Sensei: he is all-powerful yet modest and humble, omniscient and all-knowing, yet human and flawed, a gifted teacher, yet enigmatic.  When he speaks to the students in the great hall, each one feels personally addressed, and each of them feels that Dumbledore has a special eye on them and their progress.   And each believes that whatever happens, Dumbledore will know precisely what to do or so at that moment, and to that student.

It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Professor Albus, Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is a Sensei for all seasons.

The Onions of Being a Sensei

Late July, 2002.

Shodai Sensei Faustini had graciously allowed Soke Cohe to conduct a formal examination and demonstration to be conducted in his Dojo in Emerson, New Jersey. Two Sandan candidates, Sensei Mike Wilson and Sensei Keith Wittenberg, and two Nidan candidates, Sensei Gabriel Perez, and your humble servant.

It was an extremely hot day and while I had only travelled an hour with my family, Sensei Perez had travelled with his family from Virginia (where he was stationed at the time) in a very small car. The car was packed not only with his family, but also with our Soke, whom he had picked up en route, as well as his own Sensei Steve Janosik, who was the Sensei who got Gabriel started on the Tsugiashi Do journey, and who had flown up from Texas to attend his old student’s promotion. (Sensei’s show up, remember?).

The head table was filled with the great ones, flanking Shodai Faustini and our own Soke. Shihan Mickey Bradle conducted the agenda. My poor execution of a move injured Sensei Perez, which he reminds me of periodically. We got through it reasonably well, and Soke Sensei presented us with our certificates.

There was no after-party since the “Southern” crowd still had 8 hours of driving left to their day, and they had to pack themselves back into that tiny car, and get back on the New Jersey Turnpike. I carried Soke’s bag and cane and packed then into the trunk.

It was beastly hot as everyone crowded around the car to say their last goodbye's. As Soke Sensei opened the door, he noticed me standing awkwardly nearby. Shaking my head, I held my hands to my side and said “I have no words enough to thank you.” He paused, leaving the packed car, and stepped toward me, and with one of those modest Spencer Tracey smiles leaned in to speak closely. “Sensei is what Sensei does,” he said. And then he leaned forward, not unlike Dumbledore, and lowered his voice further: “Someday you’ll do it too.”

I’m trying Sensei.

September 26, 1992, Ikyu demonstration, Edgewater, NJ.  Mike Wilson and Scot Lynch.  Good old Kata 11; it never gets old.