From the Ashes Rises the Pheonix
don’t look at this man,
He doesn’t like Americans. He didn’t want the art of Daito Ryu to be in the states. He didn’t smile, ever. Do not make eye contact with him.
I was thinking what am I going to do? We drove for an hour before we reached our final destination. I was so nervous I had to pee. We got there and parked. What now? We went inside and all I saw was red belts and above. Two hundred people were there. They were all over the matt trying to find a spot. Each school had to be in their own place. I was the only one for our dojo so I was alone and on my own. I turned and looked at M. She was watching me like a hawk. She nodded with her eyes to where Shihon Yonazawa was. I looked at her and gave her the thumbs up. I noticed at this point that I could suddenly feel my feet. They were cold. My toenails were plain compared to a couple of ladies that had painted toenails. That has never been me. Everyone was milling around trying to find their spot on the floor, I just stayed where I was because I didn’t know what else to do.
It was time to work techniques now. I was paired up with this woman. M and I knew her from another dojo that we trained with and she earned the nick name “black widow”. She had a ruthless attitude and was self centered and thought that she could do no wrong. I was stuck with her. I just smiled and told myself that I was there to learn and that she wasn’t going to ruin it for me.
The technique we worked on was done from seated position called seiza. It was a double wrist grab from behind. The person being grabbed would flex their hand in order to make wrist a little bigger and then made a circular movement with both arms and moved your body in such a way to give you momentum and you breathed a certain way. I dropped my shoulders and relaxed. I made my move and the black widow went flying backwards. I had done this technique correctly. Mean while everyone around me was trying to get their opponent off of them. Out of all the people in the room, red belts, brown belt, black belts and degrees higher, Yonazowa came running , I mean running out of his seat toward me and clapping his hands, a smile from ear to ear, yelling at me:”VERY GOOD TECHNIQUE, VERY GOOD TECHNIQUE!!!!!”
At first I thought he must have been talking to someone else. I realized he was speaking to me. I looked at him for a moment, I faced the ground and did a proper bow to him and thanked him. I turned to M. She saw the whole thing and she was beaming at me.
That night, I was presented with a banner. It was a high honor to have one. I was one of the five people to get one. M told me that I showed special dedication and represented my dojo in a good way.
The banner itself now is 15 years old. It will have no significance to anyone but me. It is old and frayed and faded. It is blue in color with white Japanese writing on it. It says SHIHON YONAZOWA DAITO RYU 1992
This is a banner that I hold to this day. It is hung up in my car on the rear view mirror. It is something that reminds me when I forget that I am unique and a much loved person. I know what the banner means and that is the important thing in my life. It always reminds me of where I’ve been and how far of a road I traveled to get to where I am today.
My story was one that was difficult one to write. If I can teach anyone something, it is with the hope that they understand that no one deserves to be treated in a way that takes all their human rights away from them. We are worth so much more than the way that some people would treat us. One life is just as important as many. All it took was someone to care for it. It is possible to rise from the ashes. I’m living proof.
Tinamarie Matsil
Manalapan NJ