I've never been surprised that most people claiming to be skilled martial artists are not effective fighters. Having competed in open martial arts tournaments (when I was younger) I grew accustomed to the constant berating from judges about using excessive force or illegal techniques (anything spinning). Throughout the years, I've always trained [close to] full contact, so these contest rulings were very confusing; isn't the primary goal of a competition to test your abilities? Obviously I wasn't the only frustrated person as evidenced by the development of the many unsanctioned competitions and mixed martial arts competitions such as the UFC.

Many of us, who were interested in real martial arts and skills, were really impressed with Royce Gracie when he took the UFC Championship [at only 160 pounds], but eventually the additional rules and weight divisions left me disillusioned. The fact is, on the street there are no weight divisions, rules, or time limits; and testing yourself accurately is very difficult. I remember my Sifu pushing me, urging me to get in there and trade blows, and see how far we could go (this was when I was 13 years old). This was completely beyond what we expected as young students, but that was just it; he knew we would eventually become adults and need that kind of training.

I was very thin as an adolescent -- a short wiry kid with big plastic-framed glasses and disheveled hair; and I was always taught (at home and at the Kwoon) never to give in to bullying. At school I had the typical run-ins with the bigger students who were bent on exhibiting their right of might, but I always felt secure in my abilities [to defend myself] because my training in kung fu was realistic and tough. We fought pretty hard so it would take something extraordinary to surprise me in a schoolyard fight.

One day, as a junior in high school, I squared off against a senior. This guy came rushing at me, and although I hit him squarely in his face twice, he still came right through my defenses and tackled me to the ground. I had no idea what to do as he put me in a chokehold and rubbed my face in the dirt. I gave up that day and walked home, shaken, dirty, my pride hurt much more than anything else. But that was a very important day for me; it had a profound effect on my views about the training I had received to that point. Yes, I had studied kung fu, Kenpo and Tae Kwon Do for years, and I just stewed over what had gone wrong.

The fact was I was not prepared for all the realities of fighting. I relied on what I was taught "should" happen, instead of what "could" happen. My training was not well rounded. I don't blame my Sifu for that; he did the best he could with what he knew at the time. The problem was that he had never been in a similar situation; he had never foreseen the need to train for the ground. That's why, after that event, I considered it my responsibility to teach ground fighting when I became an instructor -- to complete that missing link. Luckily I knew people in other systems and took advantage of that to round out my knowledge and skills.

Real Experience as a Teacher

With schools popping up on every corner run by "Joe Sifu," master of his own system, the overall quality of martial arts has rapidly declined while the price of training has increased. The fact is, teaching martial arts have become a very profitable source of income nowadays although the quality of instruction has suffered. Many teachers have given in to the lure of easy money and as a result care less for providing a properly planned program. A good example of this decline [in respect for the arts] is the twelve-year-old black belt and nineteen-year-old "master." The goal of training nowadays has become "to know only the required materials," not to apply the knowledge to real life situations. It's all too easy for anyone to remember a set of movements, to know all the techniques and get the belt. What is difficult to comprehend are the myriads of practical and applicable variations in punching and kicking, that comes only from actual use and years of experience.

I don't think I've ever been more disgusted than when I was competing in the adult black belt forms competition ten years ago. One of the judges must have been no more than seventeen years old. He was so easily distracted and impressed with large movements and noise making [from other competitors] that the subtleties of my form were completely overlooked. That ignorance is not what we train for, we're not training for the pugilistic dope, he's just cannon fodder, though he may be every bit as dangerous for an individual misjudging his own ability.

We should be training for the time we may have to defend ourselves against a dangerous individual or group, with real fighting abilities. I've been face to face with proficient fighters who've never once stepped into a martial arts training hall; but they had real experience hurting people. Let me tell you, I would rather face off against any $2000.00, two-year black belt than one of these street-hardened fighters. The criminals are out there, and are in many ways similar to the gladiators of ancient Rome. Defending your life demands training in reality, no rules and no time limits.

Against the advice of friends and family, I worked as a bouncer in several dangerous clubs and bars. I never acted overly aggressive or looked for an opportunity to smack around drunks, but waited patiently for anyone to overstep the bounds of civility. An individual who I would council in the error of behaving overly aggressive -- only having to show him, first hand, the error of his ways.

Many of us, who have studied martial arts for years, care about its development and evolution. But there are many schools out there that may as well be dance studios. The world is filled with images of Kwai Chang Caine, Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li, but the reality of martial arts has been diluted and the purpose clouded.

Martial arts seems to be the only field where we people are blindly led by the word of a stranger claiming he can save our life with a thousand year old system. Never mind that he's never fought a real fight, but instead claims someone in his lineage had once defeated 50 attackers at once. We need to evaluate the techniques for ourselves; we need to ask, "will this work for me?"

"Cry in the Dojo, Laugh on the Battlefield"

If you have a sincere desire to defend yourself in a real situation, you'll have to sacrifice your ego, put aside the pride we hold so dear, and present yourself to someone who will teach and test you for the street. Look for someone who is willing to [at the very least] separate the art from the application. The art of the technique is not in how pretty the lines or circles are. The art is in the free use of the technique. The art is the science and psychology of aggression and physics, of leverage and kinetics, not the mysticism in the so-called advanced levels.

Strengthening the spirit has long been part of eastern martial tradition, but it should occur as a by-product of mind and body temperance. Nothing in the Dojo [or Kwoon] matters if you can't go into the street and apply what you've spent so much time practicing. That "so called" strength of spirit comes from confidence in your abilities and belief in your training, if you have neither, you're dead. How can you have confidence in your training unless you've hit someone and have been hit in return? How do you know how your body and mind will react if you have never put them to the test?

An instructor who never gets dirty and avoids fighting you because he's afraid to hurt you is useless. The fact is many instructors are often just scared of being humiliated in front of a full class of "paying" students. Any good instructor knows, they can always learn more, even from a student. A truly skilled martial artist never stands in front of another man expecting to learn nothing. "The investment in loss," (as Chen Man Ching speaks of) means that a loss is not a failure if you walk away from it with something besides the bruises. Without loss there are no skills, no learning, and no advancement.

Instructors and students should all work towards that confidence in our abilities, to train like we fight and fight like we train. In the streets, there will be no one to call the match or stop the time. Do everything you can to prepare yourself for the potential attack of a madman. Devise worst-case scenarios and try to recreate them as closely as you can in a controlled environment. Feel the sudden rush of adrenaline when you fear being hurt, and feel the sudden drop in strength and speed when you deplete your adrenaline stores. Experience what it's like to be disoriented by single or multiple blows. Only when you're familiar with these sensations can you recognize them and maintain some semblance of focus.

The Unfortunate Fragmenting of Philosophies

Over that past ten years, there has been a sudden resurgence of interest in actual combat training. With many systems being based on combat science, reflecting the increasingly violent society we live in. Much of this training uses some core principles of eastern martial arts interwoven with western thought and scientific processes. Almost militaristic, these groups focus on all-around defense including: firearms, knives, sticks, or history's first weapon, the rock. These new systems are viewed as entities unto themselves. What a shame that the people concerned with true self-defense feel the need to distance themselves from traditional martial arts. Perhaps you've had a similar discussion with someone before:

"Oh you do martial arts, what kind?"
"OH, I train in Kung Fu and some other stuff."
"Yeah, well I don't believe in martial arts, I'm a street fighter."


These people don't believe that training in martial arts has any merit anymore because so many instructors have taught them poorly, placing too much emphasis on form and tradition, or even hiding behind it. These schools represent the face of martial arts that are seen by the world today. Potential students are blinded by the allure of status and rank. If all a student seeks is greater health and an outlet for his energies than so be it.

We all take from the arts what is most beneficial to us, yet it's still the duty of the instructor to distinguish between the uses and training of the martial arts. Those who are truly interested in the full potential the arts offer are entitled to the full spectrum and experience. After all, similar visionaries developed the arts we hold so dear. People traveling and studying under other instructors long after they were already masters in their base systems. These were the men who invested in their losses and grew because of it. Go and find a teacher in ground fighting. Find a teacher in knife and stick fighting. Find an instructor in close quarters combat and learn how to disarm an attacker with a gun.

If we don't take control of our arts and continue to develop them in such ways, changing what must be changed, and holding onto only that which is useful, very soon there will be nothing of applicable value left. More importantly, as our society becomes more violent, people training in non-reality based systems will be in the streets dying at the hands of any thug that wants his watch. We should all be making the sacrifices in our schools, students and teacher alike, so that we can feel as safe outside the walls of our schools as we do inside.

Sifu Umar Arrastia has been involved with martial arts for 21 years and holds the rank of third upper level in Bai Long Chuan (Pai Lum). He also holds black level rank in Tae Kwon Do and American Kenpo, with practical experience in Aikido, Jiujitsu /freestyle grappling, Taiji Quan, Qigong and Western Boxing. Sifu Arrastia is an instructor at White Dragon Fist Arts in Southbridge, MA. He can be reached at uarrastia@excite.com