One of the biggest things my character has to deal with is judgement from the people he serves to protect. They don’t realize what he’s doing is protecting them from a Hitleresque fate.

I was at the gym and saw this girl. Cute. Then it happened. “Her eyes are too Asian,” I said to myself.

Huh?

First off every one is perfect in their own way. It’s why there isn’t a perfect cherry blossom. No such thing. Because every blossom is perfect (From The Last Samurai). This applies to humans as well. Once we start comparing one to another is when this Eastern way of looking at things deteriorates.

When I was practicing crap martial arts, see my bio, we were given a special treat. Our teacher brought in a Chinese Kung Fu teacher to teach us a Chinese form. A form is a series of martial art movements against imaginary opponents. By the way, that in itself is not the best way to learn how to fight. And what makes a form Chinese? The slantiness of the movement?

As my friend and I practiced the form–we’re both Chinese–we were marvelling at how different the movement was from the daily crap that we practiced. Keep in mind I didn’t know I was studying crap martial arts till I was awakened.

One of the supervising instructors came to us and said, “You’re too Chinese,” referring to our movement.

My friend and I looked at each other. Then looked at our non-Chinese supervising teacher.

“Nooooo,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to be too Chinese.” Were our eyes extra slanty?

Everbody knows not to be judgemental. Even those who are aware of why can place judgement on others. We are after all human. It’s the conscious practice of being non-judgemental that’s important. Not the mistakes of when we are. But if you’re not aware that judgement is wrong, is the person still to blame?

I can’t say. And neither does the hero of my book. So what does he do? Continues to serve despite the hate he gets from doing so.

In Bruce Lee’s only filmed interview he was asked if he wanted to be thought of as Chinese or a North American. He was born in San Francisco. He said he wanted to be thought as a human being.

Here’s an experiment: Spend an hour without placing judgement on others. If you do, no problem. Just start the hour over. See how long you can do it.

A lot of teachers and instructors of story talk about tension and suspense. But they seem to accompany that with conflict. And conflict is pretty simple: want vs obstacles.

When I attended David Freeman’s Beyond Structure weekend seminar he explained tension and suspense the best: What happens next.

Think about it. You know that scene when the lone girl opens the door to the downstairs basement. A guttural sound grates against the darkness.

A normal person would be like, “Oh, hell no.” Then slams the door locked.

But that’s no fun.

The girl slowly places her foot down on the first step. It creaks. She dips her head but can’t see through the darkness. She takes another step. Something below shuffles around. The step creaks as she takes another step.

Why is she doing this?!

Then we realize the steps are the split kind. The kind where someone can reach through and grab her ankles. I hate those! Every step she takes we see it from behind the stairs. Is someone or something going to grab her?

She continues down and is now in the bowels of the basement. That same guttural sound emanates from a black corner.

What she gonna do?

She heads for it.

What?

“Yargh!” Her little brother jumps out and says, “You’re it!”

Something similar happened to me this morning. I was taking the train to work. The smell of body odor permeated the seats, people were stuffed into every square inch of the train, a baby cried somewhere upfront. The train stopped and a rush of people offboarded. A flood of morning fresh air washed in.

Then a stale smell like jeans that had been worn for six
months turned my nose. I looked up and a guy in what I describe as rags for sweatpants and a dirty hoodie stepped onboard. He had fingerless black cotton gloves. Face was shiny. He started singing, badly.

The doors closed and the train headed toward the city.

He saw the baby that cried earlier, walked over to him and his mother, and started baby talk in Spanish. He took out what looked like curly, shiny barbed wire without the barbs. And as he sang he straightened it. Cotton gloves seemed to protect him from cuts. The wire got longer and longer. His vigorousness made the wire swing above the baby, close to the mother. The mother turned her back to him, grabbed a hold of a handle, a quiet attempt to shield her baby boy.

The guy continued to straighten it, and the sharp wire shook over the stroller. Then he straightened one section, holding it as if to strangle someone. The train shook, and he stomped toward the mother to gain his balance, wire in hand. He looked down at the baby and spoke Spanish again, wire in hand. Mother still had her back to him. Every one snuck peaks at the scene. He started to straighten the wired as it got longer, it got closer to the stroller, to the mother.

The train stopped. Door slid open. And the man stepped off the train. Every one breathed a sigh of relief. Except a girl who got up because she had to get off at the same stop. She dragged her feet out.

That was intense because I wasn’t sure why he was straightening the wire, or if he was just going to go postal and strangle someone.

In both the made up scene and what happened this morning the tension came from wondering what was going to happen next. Conflict, in story terms, didn’t exist.

If you’ve read my bio, you’ll know that I’ve taught martial arts since 1993. A long time. Most of the classes that I taught were kids classes. For most schools, kids make up a large percentage of the population. Parents think it teaches them respect, discipline, self-defense, and a whole slew of stuff.

As I’ve stated in my bio, the stuff we were teaching was just crap. Let me explain briefly. In all of the classes, both kids and adults, there was little physical contact. Not that I want to touch people, but in order to train for a possible physical altercation, a fight, you have to train with a training partner. Our school did little of that. Worse, all of the self-defense techniques were done in the air. Students didn’t feel what it was like to hit something, which is an important concept in martial arts.

For me, there are a few things I look for when I go into a school. Are the teachers egotistical?  Some indications questions to ask.

Do they display a ton of trophies?  A few is fine, but if there’s a lot, then red flag it.  If you’re confident, there’s no need to show off.

Do teachers treat students like people?  It’s a privilege to teach anyone because a student must open themselves up to their teachers in order to learn.  I had a student once where his teacher made him lie face down and pressed his face to the floor with his foot.  This student was nice as can be.  I went to the school to check them out, and I could read their huge egos.  I’ve had other students hit on like in a bar by instructors.  That happened often in my school even by the owner.

Ask about partner drills, bag drills, drills that will teach both reaction and striking skills.  This is a must.  Most MMA schools will have this.  Other traditional type schools may not.

Look at the cleanliness of the school.  All schools smell like feet.  Don’t judge based on that.  I’d focus on whether the school is bright, clean, and organized.  It reflects on the teachers and owner of the school.

I’d also ask about how the belt system works, how belts or rank are earned, and if they offer one-on-one sessions.  A really good school will offer a number of these sessions for free.  It shows they care.  If they don’t, ask for them as part of your negotiations.

The overall feel should be positive.  You should feel that you can learn.  The most important factor is choose something that you’d have fun doing.  I’ve not gotten in a fight since I started in 1993.  I don’t plan to.  Fun is going to have a huge factor in your improvement both in physical and mental health.