Orange belt testing

Night before last I tested for orange belt. I tested for orange belt in Tae Kwon Do and Freestyle Kenpo Karate years ago, and since it is only the second promotion after white, it doesn't seem like a big deal. But not all orange belts are equal.  The training and development I went through to earn this one made it worth more to me. Instead of ten combos and two kata/forms I performed in TKD, I demonstrated 27 self-defense techniques, 9 sets (mini forms) and two forms. Given my propensity for wordiness, I could probably write a 200 page book on concepts, observations, and experiences from the 6 months I spent learning and practicing orange belt Kenpo. But this is a blog, not a book, so I'll try to stick to the test itself.

Some students may not realize this, but the test actually starts weeks before the night of the official exam. The instructor watches everyone practice, gives pointers and correction, then looks to see if there is improvement. A good instructor does not test someone unless he or she already knows they could pass the test. I made mistakes and neglected key concepts during the actual test, but I had a firm grasp on the foundations. So on one hand, I certainly do not feel like an expert in orange belt curriculum, and on the other hand, if I waited to test until I felt I had really mastered this stuff, I might never progress beyond my current rank. Besides that, it is not up to the student to decide when they test. The instructor decides when they are ready.

We started out in a full class lineup and ran through exercises, basics, and yellow belt material. In two's and three's, students dropped out and moved away to work on things they had not learned yet. The ranks above me left to train the ones below me, and finally only one other person was left in the middle of the room with me. At this point I was already soaked in sweat and breathing deeply. Mr. Steinman explained that first degree black belt tests can take four hours or more, and as your knowledge grows, so must your physical conditioning. Then the real test began. My fellow student and I were run through more self-defense techniques, multiple times each, as the rest of the class watched from the sidelines. Then we were asked to do a form which has the same footwork as the yellow belt form, but uses parries instead of blocks in different directions. Simple, but when I started to perform the left side, my feet were stepping left side but my hands were doing right side. "That's not right," I muttered and paused to start left side again. This time my feet were following my hands, doing right side. "That doesn't feel right either." I focused and concentrated on what I needed to do, knowing that it was pure nervousness and fatigue distracting me.  I had practiced this sequence over and over for months! I finally got it right.

Next was a quick rolling technique line.  The instructor picked students to line up and attack us in quick succession. I barely had time to recover from one set of moves before another student came at me with a grab, strike, or kick.  I was exhausted and dripping with sweat, but you start to feel things when attacks come quickly and with force, that you don't feel practicing the moves in the air or in slow motion on a person. My stances were being challenged, I was being canceled and knocked off-balance, and my movements were sloppier as I struggled to adjust timing and ranges. It really came home to me what Mr. Steinman has mentioned several times about positive stances. If you block and absorb the force of an attack with a "neutral stance", you get knocked back into a "negative stance". You will be off balance, feeling clumsy and challenged, and you feel jammed and crowded. If you use a striking block against an attack early in its travel, leaning forward to meet it as it is launched instead of waiting for it to reach you, you can maintain, or take back, your own space. 

This requires a more aggressive mindset. By default, I have a defensive mindset. I think first about blocking, parrying, or dodging attacks, and keeping myself safe. Counter-attacking is secondary, so I attack if I see an opening. But I am starting to see that I should be creating those openings using checking and aggressive blocking, rather than waiting for the opponent to make a mistake. Kenpo stresses attacking weapons thrown at you with enough force to disable them. Mr. Steinman calls taking out weapons "appetizers". Striking primary targets, like the groin, solar plexus, throat, face, etc., is the "main course". Follow up attacks, like eye pokes, back knuckle strikes to the temple, etc., as you exit the danger zone are "desert". I'll never forget the time I asked him why we didn't grab and control an overhead club attack. Instead of explaining a complicated theory, he just told me to attack him with the stick. Then he kicked me in the stomach hard enough to make me drop the stick. That particular technique calls for a snap kick to the groin, so he was being nice and still rendered my weapon useless.

So not only do I need to learn physical technique and create "muscle memory", but I need to adjust my way of thinking and my attitude. A blocked or parried punch can recover and hit you again, but a broken or damaged arm is not only no longer a danger, but a painful distraction to your attacker. Of course, in practice sparring, you have to use checking and deceptive movements to create openings, in order to avoid injuring your fellow students. But somehow I need to start moving from the defensive, cautious, and careful approach I have, to using positive stances (leaning into attacks), a more aggressive strategy (with control, of course), and not be so distracted and busy dealing with attacks that I rarely hit back. This is really allowing the attacker to dominate, while I could be making the opponent busy with my own attacks. This realization might have crystallized at my test, but I think what I've been learning in past months definitely contributed.
The belt ceremony in Kenpo is unique compared to other martial arts I trained in where the instructor simply hands you a belt and your fellow students clap to congratulate you. At the end of the test, the instructor had us stand in a meditative horse stance (feet just over shoulder-width apart, knees bent, hips slightly forward, left hand clasped over right fist in front) for a few moments. He leaves the room for a few moments, with the second highest rank present. What they do I don't know, but I joked once that they couldn't find the right belt in the back. An honest guess would be that the instructor consults with the highest rank student or another black belt about how the testing students did well and areas for improvement. When you stand in that position for five minutes with your eyes closed, you start to feel things you don't feel standing naturally with eyes open. You start to be come aware of exactly where on the soles of your feet the most weight is planted, your balance and posture, the sounds around you become much louder - it is an odd experience.

When the instructor returned, he placed the folded belt on the floor in front of me and told me to kneel. I knelt in the "seiza" position I learned in jujitsu (right toe over left, thighs resting on calves, hands resting on thighs, back straight, head tilted downward). Then the instructor knelt and placed his hands and forehead on the belt. He said this means he promises to pass his knowledge to the student. Then I placed my hands, left down first, on the floor, fingers pointing inward toward each other and elbows out. I left only my forehead on the belt for a few seconds (instead of bouncing back up), to show respect. This means that I should use my head before my hands. Then I picked up my right hand first, then the left, and placed my palms back on my thighs, still keeping my head bowed. Most students probably don't go to this level of detail in following Japanese tradition, especially since this is "American" Kenpo, but I think it shows respect to the instructor and the art, and since I learned it, why not follow it. Next the instructor told me to pick up the belt and tie the first half of the knot. This means that I promise to learn with dedication as a student. Then he told me to take my old belt and hang it around my neck. This means that I am taking with me, and continuing to work on, everything I learned while I was wearing it.

After standing up, comes the kick. My instructor looked at me with a wry smile on his face and said "You don't mind a little kick do you?" "No sir!" I responded. He told me to breath in and then breath out and tighten my stomach while he felt my solar plexus with his fingers.  Then he took a couple steps back, eyed my torso for a moment, and launched into a step-through front thrust kick. The senior student was standing behind me and stopped me from flying backwards. Then the instructor ties the other half of the knot on the new belt, signifying that he promises to earnestly teach and do his part. While he ties the knot, he quietly mumbles a few personal, encouraging words to the student. I won't repeat what he said to me, but it meant a lot to me and motivated me to do better in the future. Then all the students give a round of applause, and come by to shake hands and congratulate the promoted students.

If I had to describe how I felt about it, I would say that I felt a sense of accomplishment, but along side it, a need to continue polishing and improving on the things I was tested on.