Karate

Kempo Karate has turned my little ruffians into gi-wearing ninjas, well almost. For the past month and a half Yenny, our wonderful au pair, and I have been taking them 3-4 days a week to a one-room dojo with ancient florescent lighting and dirty mats. It smells like a bottle of turpentine unless the doors are open to the outside because of the cobbler bellow. But, I don't care. Who knew that hitting other children with noodles and kicking, lunging, and punching imaginary villains is the perfect anecdote to hours of good-humored fratricide on the living room rug.

Plus they look so damn cute in their little white uniforms: Miles with his willowy grace, Alec with his wise-guy intensity. I started Karate with them in April and have since earned my yellow belt, something they are erstwhilely trying to do themselves. The class that they go to is a mix of yellow and white belts. The Sensei often divides the class so that a white belt (rank beginner) is paired with a yellow belt (upwardly mobile beginner). This has lead to all kinds of interesting results. For example, yesterday one of the yellow belt boys got wacked in the eye by an overly zealous white belt and burst into big, pitiful tears. But this set up has its strengths too--I witnessed a yellow belt teaching a wide-eyed Alec how to deflect a front-on neckgrab. Learning from other kids seems to help their little egos integrate more of all the information being thrown at them in each session, and they get to go through the motions twice as students and then as teachers, which reinforces each move.

However, the laws of the jungle apply as always when children congregate. In one on one skirmishes before the group, invariably one of the opponents is cheered, "Go Josh! Go Josh!" While the other kid fights on in silent ignominy. I wonder how the sensei allows such blatant inequity. Though, there's only one of him and he has a classic case of ADD if ever there was one. One minute he's looking at the kids fighting, the next he's answering a cell phone, or looking down at his feet and coughing in the weird Tourrette's way he does. So, his gaze is certainly unpredictable, and advancement within the ranks of the fledgling warriors is somewhat random, but everyone is getting great exercise, and the lessons do provide physical discipline. Sometimes, the sensei pays attention, and when he does he seems omniprescient.