“It’s the eye of the tiger
It’s the thrill of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he’s watching us all with the eye of the tiger”
– Frankie Sullivan and Jim Peterik (Survivor) – 1982
In early 2000, our 12-year-old son Kevin expressed an interest in taking Taekwondo. We had heard good things about Mark Cashatt’s Taekwondo School. He had two schools, and one was right down the street from our house. Adults could take classes along with the children, so I decided to give it a try as well. I remember going to check it out. The first time seeing it was quite intimidating- there was no way I could remember so many moves in the complex patterns the students were doing, but it was certainly impressive looking, and we decided to give it a try.
Taekwondo is a Korean martial art involving punching and kicking techniques. “Taekwondo” can be translated as tae (“strike with foot”), kwon (“strike with hand”), and do (“the art or way”). There are various international organizational bodies for taekwondo today, but we practiced the International Taekwon-Do Federation (ITF)-style Taekwondo, more accurately known as Chang Hon-style Taekwondo, is defined by Choi Hong-Hi’s Encyclopedia of Taekwon-Do published in 1983. As you advance through the ranks, you learn 24 patterns, with as many as 72 moves. To achieve each rank, you have to take a knowledge test and perform in front of a panel of judges, demonstrating your skills in basic movements, patterns, sparring, and board breaking.
Kevin and I enjoyed the classes, and were going 2 – 3 times a week. I remember the first time I had to spar- I was terrified, as I had never thrown a punch in real life before. But there was no hard contact allowed, and I quickly began to get comfortable with putting on the gloves. We took our first test, for our yellow stripes, on January 21, 2000. We were both very nervous, but it went well. I learned they never schedule you for a test unless they know you have the ability to pass it, so that gave me a little comfort. Later that year, our youngest son, 7-year-old Jason, decided to give it a try as well. (Our third son Keith was involved in track and cross country and missed out.)
One of the many things I loved about Mark Cashatt’s school was that you practiced on your own level of ability. One of our black belts had Down’s Syndrome, but that didn’t slow him down in the least- I loved his determination and perseverance. As I was approaching 50-years-old, I was never expected to be able to kick as high as a 20-year-old. And the emphasis was always on the Taekwondo tenets- courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, and indomitable spirit. We were taught from day 1 that Taekwondo is not for starting fights, but for defending yourself if nothing else works. While some people may say it wasn’t as “tough” as other schools, with dominant drill-sergeant-like instructors, I found that the approach at our school was just what my kids needed to improve their self-confidence. The dojang became our home-away-from-home. I also attended a few taekwon do summer camps and adult taekwondo weekends, where we combined hard work and fun times. Those were memorable days.
We continued to develop our skills and move towards our black belt tests. One of my favorite activities was sparring with my sons- it was all in fun, but they certainly enjoyed giving it their all as they were slugging their dad. We also competed regularly in various tournaments. Like our advancement tests, tournaments were always nerve-wracking for me. In sparring, who would my opponents be? For the pattern competition, would I remember all my moves? There is nothing worse than freezing in front of a panel of judges and forgetting what comes next. Regardless of how we did, there was always a huge sense of accomplishment when it was over. We almost always got a trophy or medal when we competed, as the competitors were usually arranged in groups of 3 or 4 people of similar age/rank, and we competed for 1st, 2nd, or 3rd place. I never really thought of it as a “participation trophy”, as it certainly took a lot of guts to perform on our own in front of a panel of judges. If by luck of the draw I got into the ring against a 20-year-old who I knew was going to whoop me, I still gave it my all, and had no complaints if I got a 3rd place medal for my efforts.
In September 2002, Kevin and I were ready to take out black belt test. That was probably the most nervous I ever was at a taekwondo event. An audience full of people, including friends and family, and a testing panel of about 20 of the school’s black belts were watching our every move. The board breaking was always the most challenging and difficult part, but we passed everything with flying colors. We were black belts! And as black belts, the lower ranking students would bow to us as we entered the school. I was so happy for my son, who had to feel pretty good to have adults bowing to him in recognition of his accomplishment. It was a big boost to his self-confidence.
One of the other students who tested with us was Tom Chipley (top left in the photo above). I got to know Tom pretty well, as he and his son started around the same time as Kevin and me. We attended many classes together over the years. Tom unfortunately passed away in 2006, while trying to save his dog from the flood water in a storm drainage pipe during a heavy rain. He was buried in his black belt. Tom was someone I always looked up to- he was a great martial artist.
Jason eventually earned his 1st degree black belt too, and then Kevin and I tested together again in 2004 for our 2nd degree black belt. Kevin ended up quitting when he went to went to college, but I continued to go with Jason, who had also joined the Hwa Rang Warriors taekwondo demonstration team. Jason eventually made it to 3rd degree black belt, but had to quit on doctor’s orders, following the diagnosis of a back problem (spondylolisthesis). Then in 2007, at the age of 50, I also made it to 3rd degree black belt. I subsequently decided to stop when my kids were no longer going. But I missed it so much I made a valiant attempt at a come-back several months later. I stuck with it for a while but then my arthritis was starting up and the moves and bending were getting more and more difficult. And I was stressing out over my 4th degree black test, which I was dreading, as I felt I wasn’t up to it at the level I expected of myself. So I called it quits as well.
They say “once a black belt, always a black belt”. I thankfully never had to use the skills that I learned, but I do recall a specific incident when I was managing at Sellersville Theater when I thought a drunk patron might be capable of taking a swing at me. I had long stopped practicing taekwon do at that point, but the blocks and self-defense moves popped into my head and I felt prepared if I needed to defend myself. Luckily it ended with a friendly handshake, but it was nice to know that I was prepared, and was not quite as fearful as I may have been if I didn’t have Taekwondo training.
I haven’t attended a class in well over a decade, but to this day I have a recurring dream where I am back in the dojang taking another lesson. It’s not going to happen, especially now that I’ve had a knee replacement, but it is clear that Taekwondo is still part of who I am. I’ve still got the “eye of the tiger”!
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