The first thing most people ask me after they know my name is, “Do you know kung fu?”
I used to respond with two things. First, not all Chinese males named Bruce know martial arts. We’re not all Bruce Lee, martial arts legend, you know. Second, I knew absolutely nothing about self-defense. Heck, I didn’t even know how to throw a proper punch.
Tired of admitting that I knew nothing about martial arts, I was determined to find someone who could make me into a tough martial artist in one day.
My prayers were answered when I saw history teacher Jim Chin, a green belt in Tae Kwon Do, violently kicking a tree for fun. I stored this image in my mind, and a few days later, asked him to be my mentor for my journey to enlightenment. He agreed and told me to meet him in the quad after sixth period.
When I went down to the quad, I nearly did a double-take. He was dressed in full martial arts gear: helmet, robe, padding, belt, and even a nutsack-protector. I took a deep breath, then bravely walked forward. Though I was grateful, I also felt awkward that he went through all this trouble for me.
There were, thankfully, two or three other students who decided to do it with me. They dropped out before the end of the 1-hour-45-minute session though, perhaps on account of the repetitive exercises.
Mr. Chin decided to start off with a run through the crowded school, running sideways and backwards. I could feel the judging eyes of hundreds of students who gawked at us like we were some animals at the zoo. I felt very awkward and felt like running back home. But I persevered.
After the run, Mr. Chin asked us to do various exercises and stretches. The pain of these exercises was less than the pain of having other people (presumably) laughing at me. One girl, doing homework, stared at us for around half an hour. I didn’t expect this attention from passers-by.
However, as the school emptied, we started to attract fewer stares. I got less and less inhibited by the awkwardness and actually started to learn. There were a lot of things to learn: punches, kicks, dodges, and blocks. Even though I had no experience, I put my heart and soul into practice. I kicked hard. I blocked until my bones hurt. My knuckles were grazed; my mouth was dry.
For my final test to see if I was truly a black belt, I faced off with Mr. Chin. Punches and kicks and all those moves are easy enough when they’re done slowly and calmly, but I forgot most of the things he taught me when he laid upon me a barrage of kicks and punches. I just stood there lamely.
I think I only made contact with Mr. Chin once, maybe twice in all of that, compared to the tens of hits he placed on my body and head. He actually tried to go gentle on me, trying not to hurt me too much. So I guess it’s safe to say that he won that match.
When I asked him how I did, he said that I took hits calmly and that I “had a lot of potential.” I’ll take that to mean that, with training, I could become the next Jackie Chan.
Now when people ask me whether I know martial arts, I can proudly reply, “I’ve got a lot of potential for it.”
