Christmas kicks

Monday. I taught my last karate classes of the year tonight. As usual I took the opportunity to dress up and wore my santa dress with black, knee high boots. No, I didn't do any kicks. What I did do was inject some basic drills with a festive twist - instead of kiai's I had them shout various christmas words - then a break for the goodies they brought in, then some daft games, then a break for goodies, a few more games, another break for goodies. The under 12's class were the best at making christmas words sound scary. The middle, mixed-age class were the most competitive, four mums that train with their kids being absolutely determined to win the silly pairs race that I ran. The last class were the best at tiring me out, what with a few over-excited pre-teens forcing me to come down hard so the adults could have a good mix of training and giggles (between goodies, of course).

I hate being all disciplinarian (although I reckon I'd make a damn good dungeon mistress if the money was right and hell, the outfits are so much better) but I was tired and sugar-fucked from 3 hours of goodies by then. A had finally answered his phone on Saturday and said he'd actually be there so, having taught mine and his classes alone for the past fortnight, I was looking forward to playing second fiddle, being the straight (wo)man, taking a back seat and heckling from it. No such luck. He called me toward the end of my first session to say he was leaving work but had no kit with him, turned up in his business suit and proceeded to chat to some parents we're friends with rather than attempt to help me out, even after I got the students to kiai 'Scrooge!' directly at him. During a break I finally caught up with his hospital saga and really had to fight the urge to hold him, luckily my anger at being kept in the dark for so long bound my arms to my sides.

A anger aside, I came home with a pile of christmas presents (including one from a lady that hasn't trained with me for a while due to personal problems but made the effort to turn up and deliver a gift) and a distinctly warm glow. I look back on my two years of teaching and I see the difference I've made in people's lives. The women that turn up, shy and apologetic about their very existence being inconvenient. The children that are either sent by their parents cos they've been bullied, sent by their parents cos they need discipline or have seen a few martial arts movies and think they can learn to be de4d!y in one lesson. The men that think size is everything and martial arts will just add a string to their bow in the boozer. I looked at them all tonight and realised that every one of them has gained something from my teaching apart from how to kick, punch and block.

The men have gained a new way of relating to women as well as an appreciation for technique over brute strength. The women and children have gained confidence and self-esteem. Every single one of them is louder and prouder than they were, they walk higher and talk flyer. They have a belief in their own worth and are willing and able to defend that rather than lie down and accept whatever is dished out to them. All of them have made new friends and the bonds between them are strong and supportive, even when they're sparring each other and out to win.
I'm bloody proud of them. And a little bit proud of me.