Teaching
Taekwon-Do is as much a part of my life as breathing. But on September 1, 2010,
whether by simple accident or by fate, my life changed in a split second when my
foot slid off a curb and twisted as it hit the ground when I was getting out of
my car. It was a single moment, a millisecond really, that passed before I could
even register what had happened.
My life at that point was fairly predictable, I was gearing up for a November test date for 3rd Dan. I was worried about whether I would be able to do my instructor proud because my physical abilities have always been somewhat of a stretch. I’ve never been able to jump high or had great flexibility. But what I HAD and what I still have to this day is a love for the art of Taekwon-Do. It is that love that kept me training (sort of anyway) and teaching through 2.5 months of a walking cast, 15 months of physical therapy, and many fairly discouraging doctor visits. It is that love that forced me to channel my energy into finding new and sometimes dramatically unconventional ways to help my students along their journeys.
I had assumed my journey, at least as a student, had come to a crashing halt. I kept waiting for my foot to heal. And waiting. And waiting. And…. In the meantime, since I was unable to perform techniques or demonstrate them, I developed a new teaching vocabulary and a whole new style.
I studied the nuances of the techniques in the Encyclopedia and focused on making sure my students understood the overall concepts behind the moves on a far more detailed level. I became enamored with Step Sparring and the freedom it offers the students to “test” their own theories of what attacks and blocks belong together. I found a new way to love Taekwon-Do.
I learned to rely on my juniors and my students to help with classes more, since many of the classes rely on “watching” the instructor and well, watching me for technique is like trying to learn how to play music from someone without an instrument. In learning how to describe techniques with more detail, in focusing on the kinetic movement, and in identifying not only the purpose of each technique but its application in my instruction, I believe I became a better teacher. Not necessarily good, mind you, but better. :0)
And, in my efforts to become a better teacher, I developed even more creative ways to present the material without losing the details. I made up games and mnemonics, silly rhymes and names, and then, when nothing else seemed to work to get my students to understand what I was trying to get them to do, there were the famous ferocious feral ferrets which will always have a special place in my heart… and of course, there were the endless (admittedly sometimes groan worthy) jokes. I’ve always found people learn better when they enjoy themselves.
While I recognize there’s a lot that I’ve lost, I think I’ve gained something even more important. I’ve learned to use my sense of humor, my years of singing lessons, my amazing art abilities (feel free to ask my students about the many-toed feet I draw for them), my English major writing skills, and my sense of humour (British style) to make me a more intellectually flexible teacher. I’ve figured out (albeit not in a pretty way but in the best way I know how) ways to be able to do my patterns… more than I ever dreamed would be possible. And, sure, it’s not pretty. And sometimes I wish I COULD do more. But I’ve already done more than I thought would be possible. And I’ll never give up.
Because what Taekwon-Do has taught me, above all else, is the value of having a dream to chase and a goal to reach for. And because I have an amazing instructor and best friend in Mrs. Marianne Armstrong who simply by continuing to do what she does and lead by example despite her many physical limitations and injuries, and who never complains, and who always has a smile on her face and a kind word for all, serves as a reminder every day that quitting is never an option.
My life at that point was fairly predictable, I was gearing up for a November test date for 3rd Dan. I was worried about whether I would be able to do my instructor proud because my physical abilities have always been somewhat of a stretch. I’ve never been able to jump high or had great flexibility. But what I HAD and what I still have to this day is a love for the art of Taekwon-Do. It is that love that kept me training (sort of anyway) and teaching through 2.5 months of a walking cast, 15 months of physical therapy, and many fairly discouraging doctor visits. It is that love that forced me to channel my energy into finding new and sometimes dramatically unconventional ways to help my students along their journeys.
I had assumed my journey, at least as a student, had come to a crashing halt. I kept waiting for my foot to heal. And waiting. And waiting. And…. In the meantime, since I was unable to perform techniques or demonstrate them, I developed a new teaching vocabulary and a whole new style.
I studied the nuances of the techniques in the Encyclopedia and focused on making sure my students understood the overall concepts behind the moves on a far more detailed level. I became enamored with Step Sparring and the freedom it offers the students to “test” their own theories of what attacks and blocks belong together. I found a new way to love Taekwon-Do.
I learned to rely on my juniors and my students to help with classes more, since many of the classes rely on “watching” the instructor and well, watching me for technique is like trying to learn how to play music from someone without an instrument. In learning how to describe techniques with more detail, in focusing on the kinetic movement, and in identifying not only the purpose of each technique but its application in my instruction, I believe I became a better teacher. Not necessarily good, mind you, but better. :0)
And, in my efforts to become a better teacher, I developed even more creative ways to present the material without losing the details. I made up games and mnemonics, silly rhymes and names, and then, when nothing else seemed to work to get my students to understand what I was trying to get them to do, there were the famous ferocious feral ferrets which will always have a special place in my heart… and of course, there were the endless (admittedly sometimes groan worthy) jokes. I’ve always found people learn better when they enjoy themselves.
While I recognize there’s a lot that I’ve lost, I think I’ve gained something even more important. I’ve learned to use my sense of humor, my years of singing lessons, my amazing art abilities (feel free to ask my students about the many-toed feet I draw for them), my English major writing skills, and my sense of humour (British style) to make me a more intellectually flexible teacher. I’ve figured out (albeit not in a pretty way but in the best way I know how) ways to be able to do my patterns… more than I ever dreamed would be possible. And, sure, it’s not pretty. And sometimes I wish I COULD do more. But I’ve already done more than I thought would be possible. And I’ll never give up.
Because what Taekwon-Do has taught me, above all else, is the value of having a dream to chase and a goal to reach for. And because I have an amazing instructor and best friend in Mrs. Marianne Armstrong who simply by continuing to do what she does and lead by example despite her many physical limitations and injuries, and who never complains, and who always has a smile on her face and a kind word for all, serves as a reminder every day that quitting is never an option.
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