Teaching Lessons from the Mat

I have never had the type of hobbies that are shared by the masses. I have played golf once. I’ve never been confident enought to play pickup basketball. (I’m not whether the flesh is willing and the sprit is weak or the other way around.) I played one disastrous season of league softball, but that’s a story for another time. 😉

But I do have hobbies.

One of them is martial arts. I’ve been fascinated with combat sports since I was a kid. I have fond memories of watching boxing with my father, brother, and grandpa. Sometimes during conferences, I’ll sneak off to a sports bar to watch mixed martial arts with complete strangers who know the fight game. It occurs to me that I’ve been training in some art longer than I have not.

This realization was a surprise to me because I’ve moved around a fair bit, but somehow have managed to find someone and somewhere to learn something from. It’s one thing to train in big cities, but I almost forgot about the Tang Soo Do dojo I went to in East Texas. The hospitality of Houston’s Brazilian Jiu Jitsu scene is second to none, but I did have a blast taking a Tai Chi class in Hong Kong. And of course, there’s Taekwondo, the martial art that I’ve trained in the longest.

On this odyssey I’ve been really fortuante to train with some amazing teachers. The degrees of separation between me and the best is really low, as is my skill level compared to them. And the thing is, I don’t care because it’s fun (most of the time), I’m learning, and always working to improve.

The other day I was in a Muay Thai class. And while it was fun, I tend to bring a bit of anxiety with me whenever I take one. Having come from one kicking-heavy art (Taekwondo), I get self-conscious about what people will say about my skill. Do I meet expectations? Do I look awkard? Am I as good as people think I should be? Anyone who has moved from one martial arts school to another knws this same feeling. As soon as you admit you’ve trained elsewhere, you’re carrying a reputation–and sometimes, a target–on your back. And you have to find some way to deal.

I’d never taken a class with this instructor, but he knew a bit about me and my background. The workout was hard but the weight of what I just described may have been harder.

Afterward, the instructor complimented me on how well I did. It was a relief, but what he said next was the real gift. “You’ve put in time. You’ve earned those techniques. That doesn’t go away.” And after he said that, I was more than relieved. I was excited to build on that.

As a lot of professors head back into the classroom, I really hope that we can bring that energy to our students. I want them to come into our courses and be acknowledged for what they’ve learned and earned. And then I want us to lead our classes such that they can build on that and feel what it’s like to grow and do hard things.

So much of what I’m reading on Academic Social Media is how the AI Revolution has devastated HigherEd as we know it. I honestly don’t know what’s in store for these coming weeks except to say that as soon as class begins, we get to invite students to build something. Maybe they will be game. Maybe they won’t think it worth it. But for those that accept the gift, I know we will build with them something that doesn’t go away.

And isn’t that what it’s about in the first place?