Back to the Dojo

Two and a half years ago, still working and looking for several weeks of full-day summer coverage for my three kids--coverage that wouldn't cost every penny I was making--I happened upon a karate camp just a handful of blocks from our home.  They kept the kids from 9-5:30, gave them exercise, field trips, and even hot lunch.  So after I went and watched a class, during which I saw things about it that would be good for each of my kids, I signed them up.  After the few weeks of camp, the kids continued to go to karate classes there several times a week.  Not only was it great for their fitness, balance, focus, and stamina, it gave them a whole new community they could be a part of.  There were dojo dinners and dojo parties and dojo sleepovers, and we were warmly welcomed as part of the community, as we watched our kids earn stripes and belts from their hard work and training.
 
When school ended this past June, all three kids went to spend most of the summer upstate in camp.  When they returned, with me still out of work, we weren't looking to spend money on more camp.  So no karate.  Then with all three kids starting new school experiences and new activities, and me still not bringing in money full-time, again, no karate.  It just didn't fit.

Today, after a six-month hiatus, two of the kids (one woke up sick) and I returned to the dojo.  An experiment, we called it.  Would it still feel as it had for 2 years--a place to feel strong and included?  Or would it be something that might have worked then, but felt wrong now?

We were certainly welcomed by the teacher, which felt good.  We had not been forgotten.  On the contrary, though the dojo is clearly thriving with students old and new, it really seemed to matter that we had returned.  But what would the kids say when they finished class?  Can you go "home" again, when it seems that so many things in your life have changed?

I am happy to report that it appears you can.  They emerged sweaty but happy.  I think it felt good to them to realize that their bodies remembered things, and that, while their stamina might take a while to return, the strength and the balance and the focus are still there, and the community, where they are accepted and encouraged, matters to them.

For the two years when we were all immersed in the dojo culture--attending the dinners and Halloween festivities and promotion tests--I was moved by how included we felt in a group that was not an obvious match to our own backgrounds.  It's hard NOT to feel good when a group of people just accepts you for who you are.

So, while I am not the one who has to remember sequences of stretches and punches and kicks, and while I am still not in a position to be putting out lots of money for classes, I am hoping this experiment continues.  Not only will the kids get the exercise they need, we will all be a part of something that supports us, no matter where the rest of our lives may take us.