When a meeting with the senior students was called, I wasn’t surprised.
It had been building for a few weeks, subtle inquiries, a whisper here and there.
What the senior students and my teacher didn’t know was that I knew they were having buyer's remorse.
Why didn’t I tell my teacher yet?
I would have liked to say because of some obscure dojo rule, or that he didn’t need to know yet, but the truth was I didn’t say anything because I was unsure of my own feelings on it.
I didn’t want to personally do anything that would change the dojo or give my teacher a problem that would take away from teachings.
So I kept quiet about it.
So how did I know?
Over the years, as part of the training I was sent to visit a number of sister-school as part of my own training and at those schools I made quite a number of friends. I’d see them at the quarterly seminars and workshops, but them some drinks after, and so those back channels naturally developed.
When one of those sister-students approached me and said that things weren’t working out as they had hoped, did I think there could be a reconciliation?
I just listened and told them it was a complex situation, but who knows anything could happen.
It wasn’t complex at all, they did what they did, and they have to live with it.
The meeting was after class, the senior students, myself, and the teacher gathered in an informal circle, drinking some cold tea to counter the August heat.
Had anybody heard from him recently was the opening question.
The senior students looked around, unsure of what that meant, I knew what that meant, but technically, I could answer in the negative as I hadn’t heard directly from him.
The nest question from the teacher was what did we think if he was allowed to return to the dojo?
Their response was silence, but a mix of emotions.
Defiance, curiosity, stone faced no, maybe, and then myself.
Appearing neutral.
The teacher asked our opinions on the matter and when the question landed on me, I replied that I had no opinion as I wasn’t the teacher of the dojo.
Which was the correct answer but not the one he was looking for.
If he was allowed back in the dojo how did I feel about that?
Outwardly indifferent.
But inside?
My first feeling was that if he is allowed back I am going to hit him as hard as I can.
Not full force, but not training speed, just hard enough she he would remember what he said publicly when he left.
When he announced at the new dojo that the previous dojo he trained at did not teach the real way, that it didn’t know the art, or how to move.
But that would cause problems with the junior students if they started emulating my movement.
What if I just ignored him and didn’t train with him?
In my mind he was hamon, so just don’t talk to him.
Another problem in the dojo, as it would create disharmony between the students.
If he came back I’d have to act like what he did and said never happened.
I told myself I think I could do that.
The teacher could feel I was deep in through and that is when he asked me about another student that left the dojo, what if they wanted to come back.
That was an easy answer, as I’d say let them join the dojo, I’d welcome them back.
They left the correct way, work and family obligations took them away, and they continued their training at another dojo. They acknowledged that they spent a decade here at the dojo and have the right letters.
They could go anywhere and be welcomed back.
Different circumstances.
I then asked the teacher what would happen the next time they demand rank and don’t get it, that if they pulled something once, they would do it again.
The reply from the teacher was that is why he had the final say.
I understood that the dojo was not a democracy, but in my mind, this wasn’t even worth having a discussion about.
Publicly burning certain bridges means you can never come back.
No comments:
Post a Comment