People take up the martial art of karate for many reasons – some for sport, some for physical exercise and others for a real need for self-defense. Statistics show that at least seven out of ten quit before receiving any in-depth training. Some of the three who continue training do so with the realization that they have embarked on a training regimen that has a deeper meaning. They see, at least in some measure, the fact that karate is a true art form. 

During initial training, the emphasis on physical conditioning, stance and basic technique shows the student that there are real benefits on the physical side. Later, however, he finds that in the kata, bunkai and intricate drills there is an opportunity for self-expression and the development of something far more valuable than simply good physical condition. 

When I first became a student of karate I harbored many beliefs that today would have been naive due to the widespread popularity and participation in the martial arts in general. For example, my first Sensei was a Caucasian and yes, a black belt - what degree I never knew because I would never have presumed to ask him. I did astutely notice, however, that the belt that held his gi top together was indeed black! I thought that almost nobody made it all the way to black belt and that most black belts were oriental. Therefore, my teacher must have been just short of magical. I don’t regret that feeling even today because in some way it made me more respectful and even fearful of him. 

As time progressed, I found myself doing things I never thought possible. I began to see some short term goals, the first of which was a green belt and the right to learn two more kata. After passing my green belt test, I figured well, I’ve gone this far, maybe brown belt is also an attainable goal. I began an even more diligent training regimen, putting out more and more in class and training more and more on my own. By the end of another year’s training it was time for me to be tested for san kyu. As the promotional exam came ever nearer, I became more and more apprehensive and I trained harder than ever. The test was hard, but I was ready for it, at least physically. 

After testing I anxiously awaited the results and was almost shocked to hear Sensei declare that I had passed. For the first time I felt an obligation to my rank, not just my Sensei and my art. Training continued as usual, but there was a different mental outlook – one of a more sincere dedication and I firmly believe that it was during this "brown belt time" that intense interest and commitment to excellence took on a different meaning. It was during this critical time that I enjoyed a new and exciting feeling – devotion. Also, it was during this time that a dan rating seemed possible even for me, an average Caucasian. The black belt seemed no longer totally elusive. It also became a goal, not so much as a personal thing, but as a means of achieving that which is necessary to share with many, those things which I learned to be very important. Not only as a means of overt expression, but as a way of life, which runs deep – deeper than any I had formerly considered. 

Eventually I was awarded my black belt and it seemed almost anticlimactic. I suppose I learned that, after all, the way to the dan grading is more important than the black belt. Oh, I was proud all right. I knew that I had worked hard to achieve that level of expertise. I truly believe that the awarding of the black belt was my notice that I was embarking on a lifetime of training and teaching, It was very clear to me that this was not graduation day – instead it was the first day of my career as a serious student. Black belts simply don’t graduate!