A LETTER TO MY INSTRUCTOR, AND FRIEND

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

My friend and instructor Jim Robinson tested for his 7th Dan in July. The testing was in Memphis, and there was no way I could be there. When our mutual friend Diana Hampo told me she was putting together a celebration party for Jim, I suggested that she compile a book of letters and photos from his friends and students.

There are people in our lives that make a difference. They challenge you, push you, force you outside your comfort zone. We may not realize it at the time, but they are part of the fabric of who we are and who we become. Jim Robinson is one of those people in my life. My challenge to you, dear reader, is to reflect on those people in your life that made a difference, and let them know. A phone call, a letter, an email, it doesn’t matter. Don’t take them for granted,or think that they must know how you feel. Tell them!

This is my letter.

Jim,
It’s not often that we have an opportunity to tell someone how much they mean to us. I’ve been guilty of telling others of your impact on my life, but I never told you.
You were my first instructor. You were the person that challenged me to do that which I thought was impossible. You were stingy with your praise, generous with your criticism. You lit a spark inside me that is still alive 35 years later.
I remember you trying to teach me new techniques. Smiling at my ineptness and shaking your head, walking away. All that did was motivate me to try harder. It never was the trophies that motivated me to compete. It never was the color of the belt that motivated me to test. It was your approval that mattered to me.
You taught me to never, ever quit. You taught me to set an example for lower ranks. To be stronger, tougher, and never stop if anyone else in that room was still going.
Remember that attitude instructors had? Not only did your students believe you could walk on water, you did too. You were so darn arrogant.
I remember the trip to Lansing, Michigan in 1977 or 1978 to compete in Nationals. A group of us borrowed Ron Turchi’s van and made the drive. There is no way to describe the pride we felt when we watched you compete. The fierceness of your techniques, the way you could side kick straight up in the air, and hold it.
You weren’t the biggest guy in the ring when it came to sparring, but by golly your opponents knew they had been in a fight when you got done with them.
I’d never gotten rid of that martial arts spark. I bought the school that you taught me in. Your spirit was all through that school. I found myself using the phrases you had used with me when teaching. “The reason you twist your wrist when you punch is because it takes less effort to twist a screw into wood than hammer a nail.”
We had lost contact, so it was surreal for me that day you walked in the door, the first time I’d seen you in twenty years. Those visits to the school, the phone calls, you working out with us in class, meant so much to me.
My sister Tracey and I sat on the floor and watched you compete a couple of years ago. She looked at me and said “It’s like old times again, isn’t it? Watching him compete. Being proud to be his student.”
I watched you test in Dallas for your 5th. Remember working on yourself defense demonstration? The cowboy hat?
And full circle for me. I tested for my 5th in December of 2009. You were on the panel. What a very special honor for me, to have my friend and instructor still a part of my life. Over thirty years Jim.
The influence I had, the lives I changed, were because of you. The ripple of your influence spread out over and over throughout the years. I’m just one. I wonder how many of your former students are out there, proud of what they accomplished because of your tutelage.
I’m sorry I could not be there to see you test. But know that I was smiling when I saw the pictures. And if I could be there now, there would be a big hug for my instructor and friend. Love you Jim.

Michelle

RIP Bojangles The Rattlesnake Slayer 3/22/2012.

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

Image

I had to put down my little Boston Terrier yesterday. Those of you that have lost a pet know the pain. Its the price we pay for choosing to share our lives with a pet.

We acquired Bojangles four years ago from a friend that couldn’t keep him anymore. He was scared of men, I think some of the guys in his previous life had mistreated him. He would cringe when Steve reached for him, slink on his belly when he called him. Steve worked with him until he was more comfortable around men, but he always preferred women.

He spent many a happy night under the covers sleeping with our daughter Keely. He adored her and followed her everywhere.

He got to go camping with us for the first time in his life. The picture I have of him on Facebook is his first canoe ride. He got to explore all kinds of interesting places when we moved to Colorado, including our horse pasture where he ate horse poop until he barfed.

We still laugh about the time he was in the jeep when we parked it to go eat on a snow day. Steve wanted to teach me the proper way to drive on ice and snow so we had been doing skids and circles on icy parking lots for a couple of hours, I parked the jeep in the middle of the almost deserted parking lot well away from other cars. We walked in and as we stared to sit down i saw a car pulling in between
two other cars right in front of the building. I thought ” boy that jeep looks like our jeep”. Then I thought “huh, that dog looks like Bo”. Then ” oh wow that is Bo!”. The jeep had slid down three rows and parked itself in between two other cars. Bo was in the backseat with his front feet on the console. I could see his head with his big Boston Terrier ears swiveling from right to left. Reading his body language he was saying ” who is driving? who is driving?”. No doubt he would have been at the steering wheel trying to drive in the next few minutes if the car had not come to a safe stop at the curb.

Although he loved Keely and Steve he was really my dog. When the weather was good he would run errands with me. He loved riding in the car. When the weather was warm and we took the top off the Wrangler he was in heaven.

He was my shadow when I was in the house, following me from room to room when I cleaned, hopping up on the couch to snuggle next to me whenever I sat down, He would lay on my foot when I stood in front of the sink to brush my teeth.

He was totally deaf, but would watch me very closely for hand signals. He also farted really bad all the time.  Boy that little guy could clear a room.

Last year Bo found a rattlesnake in our yard. He killed that sucker. Chewed him up really good. He also got bit on the snout and neck in the process. He was put on IV pain meds and antibiotics and was
almost as good as new the next day. Tough little guy.

Somehow he hurt his back and ruptured a disc. We tried prednisone and then opiate pain meds. The last two days he could hardly walk, couldn’t climb stairs and just screamed in pain. He wouldn’t take his
pills in a hot dog or cheese. I couldn’t tilt his head up to put the pills down his throat because his back and neck hurt so bad. He ate a couple of bites of hamburger then threw it right back up.

I knew it was time. I’d hoped this would happen on one of Steve’s days off so he could do it. If I didn’t take him in that day, we would have to wait until the next afternoon. I couldn’t put him through another day and night of pain so I made the call to the vet.

Tears were streaming down my face when I walked into the vets office. They took us right into a room and left us there to wait for the vet. I held him, and stroked his little gray face. He finally relaxed and went to sleep while we waited for Ana the vet.  Ana had saved his life when he became                             Bo The Rattlesnake Slayer last year.

She was crying when she walked in the room. We looked at each other and both of us stared sobbing.. We hugged and she told me she had just lost her cat the night before.

I can tell you that Bo had a very easy and loving passing, with two people that cared about him petting him and crying over him as he went to sleep for the last time.

We made an impression of his feet in clay. A local business will fireit for us. I think we will put it out in the garden where we bury his ashes beside his favorite sleeping tree.

As we were talking about the final arrangements Bo did it one last time. The fart was so bad we had to leave.

Bo could still clear a room.

Holding My Dad’s Hand

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

While I hold my mom’s hand as she walks to help steady her, dad was never the hand holding type.  As he got older, he would use his cane, and then a walker, to get around.  He would reluctantly accept some help getting in and out of the car, but that was pretty much the limit of the contact he would accept.

 Last week I took Keely to see dad at the nursing home, the day after he was moved from home. He knew who she was, and reached over to take her hand. 

Keely holding Grandpa's hand
As we talked, Keely kept her hand on his.  That was the last time Keely saw her Grandpa.  I purposely kept her away as the process of death accelerated.  I wanted her to remember him as he was that day, frail yes, but still the Grandpa that she knew.

 

Each day as I visited, there were changes.  The last few days, he withdrew into himself, sleeping, or drifting in and out of concisions, I’m not sure which.  It seemed obvious that he didn’t know we were there. 

Holding his hand became a way for us to connect with him, to hope that he could feel our presence.  I could judge his progress on this short final journey by holding his hand.  I was amazed, that first day, at the strength of his grip.  He looked at me, squeezed my hand, we talked.

Holding my dad's hand

The last two days, his hand lay in mine; there was no grip, no strength at all.

Lying awake last night, images in my head of these last days.  My brother Michael, holding dad’s hand and gently wiping the hair off his forehead, tears streaming down his face as he looked at his father lying in the hospital bed.   I wish I had thought to get a picture, but that image will be in my mind for a long time to come.  Michael took the lead in taking care of dad these last years, exasperated by the cantankerous man that my dad was, he was still fiercely protective of him, agonizing over this process. I saw a side of my brother that I had never seen, vulnerable, yet strong in so many ways, doing whatever was needed to take care of his dad. 

My sister Anne-Marie came to my parent’s house almost every day.  Helping with dad’s care when he was still home, taking much of the burden off of mom. 

Tracey spent several hours yesterday with dad.  I was there for a while, we talked.  We cried.  It was so very obvious that the time was getting short.

Tracey holding dad's hand

She held his hand the entire time.  

One of the most difficult parts of this was watching mom with him.  It was hard for her, seeing him in the nursing home, watching the very visible decline in his body.  The first few days, there was recognition.  She teased him, he smiled. 

I don’t know if he recognized these were the last days with family.  We made the conscious decision not to tell him.  There seemed to be no reason to cause him agitation or stress. And really, what could words tell him that he didn’t already know?

I told him that Kathy had reminisced about him giving her a ride on the riding lawnmower, of hitting golf balls with him out at our farm.  He smiled.

I gave the message, from Kathy and David, that they said “hello.” 

What I was really doing was telling him goodbye for them. 

Then came the time I took mom to see him and there was no conversation, there was no eye contact on his part.  He slept.  He didn’t know we were there.   

Yesterday, his last day, she held his hand.  Talked to him.  As we were leaving his eyes opened.  She told him goodbye, that we were leaving.  She repeated it, louder this time.  For the first time in two days he looked at her, and he waved his hand goodbye.  Then he closed his eyes.

As we walked out, mom and I smiled.  He had heard his wife’s voice, responded to her.   

A few hours later he was gone.

As I look back, I realize that the last voice he heard, really heard, was my mom talking to him.  Telling him that she loved him, and goodbye.  How fitting is that.  The voice that he loved for sixty five years was the last voice he heard.  The last words “I love you Mike”.

Mom holding dad's hand

Personality Traits of Rapists, Abusers, and Criminals

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

This information comes from my friend Marc “Animal” MacYoung.  A talented and prolific author, his work has changed the way I look at self defense.  This document is handed out to everyone that attends one of my self defense seminars.

Personality Traits of Rapists, Abusers, and Criminals

(from www.nononsenseselfdefense.com)

While there are others, these behaviors are serious indicators of a potential rapist or abuser. This short list should acquaint you with the basics. Not all men are rapists, but a person like this has a higher probability than others. You not only find these traits among rapists and abusers, but also professional criminals.  Philosophically there is little difference between such, they are all selfish. Most often it is just a matter of degrees, style and choice of victims.

Danger signs

1) Insensitivity for others/emphasis on self – Does this person put his wants above the needs, feelings or well being of others? Is getting his way more important to him than other people’s welfare? Often this can go beyond mere selfishness and border nearly on an “assumed divine right.” Often these people will justify a particularly vicious action with a flip comment like, “Hey, that’s how the game is played.” Such a person has no understanding that he must co-exist with others. Because he simply exists he thinks the world “owes” him whatever he wants. A common tactic of such a person it to make you feel bad for not doing what he wants.

2) Belittling behavior or attitudes towards others – Does this person habitually make nasty, belittling or degrading comments about others – especially under the guise of joking? Does this person think he is better than others? Does he look down on others? A nouveau riche aristocrat? Is he a racist? A person who thinks that race or social position makes him superior can also assume gender does too. When you think you are superior, an assumed right to ‘take’ what you want often follows.

3) Negating behavior or comments – Closely related to 1 and 2. Does he try to tell you what you are feeling or thinking? Or worse, tell you what you are not? Comments like “you don’t really mean that” are serious indicators of someone trying to negate you. A person who negates others is trying to take away the other person’s thoughts, feelings and needs and attempting to project his wants onto that person. The most obvious example of this is “Well even though she said ‘no’, she really meant ‘yes’”.

4) Hostile and/or threatening language – What words does a person use? Choice of words conveys subconscious assumptions about a particular topic. For example a man who generically refers to women as “bitches” does not have good assumptions about females (or much respect). It is all too easy to dismiss this behavior as just “blowing off steam.” But if it is a constant behavior, it goes far beyond that. Someone who habitually uses violent or threatening language should be carefully watched for possible escalation. It’s on his mind already. It’s an uncomfortably short step from ‘thinking about’ to ‘doing’.

5) Bullying – This behavior is especially dangerous. Does this person use overt or subtle threats to get his way? A bully uses the threat of violence more than actual violence. Most often bullies are not willing to risk conflict with someone who can hurt them (an alpha male), and will instead chose to intimidate someone he considers weaker and safer. Someone who is bullying over other matters can easily turn to bullying you regarding sex.

6) Excessive anger – How easy does this person anger? Is he a “Short Fuse”? Does he boil over at the slightest problem? This is an indication of chronic anger. A person who explodes over a minor issue is like a full pot boiling over on the stove. It’s not that the issue is all that important, but that he has so much anger already; any more causes him to explode. Often people with chronic anger look for targets to vent their anger at. This could manifest as physical fights, abuse, or rape.

7) Brooding/ revenge – Does this person hang onto his anger long after the situation is over? Will he still be stewing over something while everyone else has moved onto other things? Will he become anti-social and glare at the source of his anger from across the room? Will he insist on taking revenge for real or imagined slights? Both indicate a petty and obsessive personality. A brooder fixates on something and then works himself into frenzy over it. A person who seeks revenge “has to win” and is willing to take it to extremes. Refusing such a person’s sexual advances can turn this tendency towards you.

8 ) Obsession – This is a close cousin to number seven. It is a major factor with acquaintance rapes. This is the person who won’t leave you alone. He insists on ‘hitting on you’ long after you have told him no. He is always trying to establish forced intimacy (see bonding processes below). Such obsessions easily turn into anger when his advances are rejected. One day he shows up in a fringe area, drunk and attacks.

9) Extreme mood swings – Beware someone who can go from wildly happy to deeply wound at a moment’s notice. This sort of personality can feel justified to commit an unlimited amount of violence and damage, because you “hurt his feelings.” This is a common pattern among those with chronic anger about life.

10) Physical tantrums – How does this person get angry? Especially when denied “getting his way”. Beware of a person who regularly physically assaults his environment i.e. hitting walls, kicking things etc. It is only a short step from striking a car to attacking you.

11) Jock or gorilla mentality – This mentality promotes both acceptance and encouragement for the use of violence. It is especially common among participants of contact sports. What is most insidious about this mentality is the “jock” receives not only positive reinforcement, but out-and-out applause for being aggressive and violent. This can easily lead to a failure to differentiate between the playing field and real life. Mike Tyson’s comment is a prime example: “Nobody ever objected before.”

12) A mean drunk – Nearly all rape and abuse cases involve alcohol. Watch what surfaces when someone is intoxicated. It shows what is always lurking underneath. Do not put yourself into a situation where you would deal with such a person while he is intoxicated. Most importantly, don’t allow your facilities to be diminished by alcohol or drugs in this person’s presence.

13) Alcohol or drug abuse – To begin with drug and alcohol addiction can be traced back to selfishness and a refusal to change one’s world view. Alcohol and drugs are not the cause of bad behavior; rather they are used as an excuse! Often the attacker intentionally became intoxicated to ignore the social restrictions and inhibitions regarding violence.

(Source:  Marc MacYoung   www.nononsenseselfdefense.com)

The Test Is Tonight. But It Started Thirty Three Years Ago.

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

I told myself I wasn’t going to get emotional about this.  And I’ve done pretty well until this morning.   I think I’m going to blame the emotionalism on Kira.  She planted the seed last night when she stopped by the school.  I think the comment was along the lines of “you are going to be crying tomorrow night when this is over”.

I denied it of course.  I might tear up when awarding rank to my students, but not about my own test.  I have been in work mode these last few weeks, struggling to fit in personal obligations, staff changes at the school and final training for my test today.  Yes, I have been stressed.  Waking at 2:30am and getting on the computer to work out a new schedule or jot down curriculum ideas.  Spending hours each day training with Master Dring or on my own, trying to get more repetitions in.  I still don’t know what board breaks I’ll be doing.  My self defense demo was put together in an hour on Tuesday.  Many many thanks to Tom Genz, Brady Speers and Surya Cheek for their patience and good humor while I figured out what to do.  I sincerely hope they remember to wear a cup.

I finished the newspaper this morning and allowed myself to think about this evening.  Not the technical parts which I have been obsessing over (moves to the forms, self defense, shadow boxing, board breaks, sparring, conditioning) but the meaning of this test for me.

I found myself drinking coffee on the couch, tears streaming down my face. Thinking about the people that have been with me for the journey.

My first Taekwondo class in 1976.  Carla Griffey was in the class.  Now Carla Hazelwood, she is still part of my life and does all of the beautiful calligraphy on our black belt certificates.   Jim Bottin owned the school and talked me into trying a class.  He is my landlord and is a great resource of knowledge.   Rick Balkin was in the kids classes I used to teach. He will test for Master early next year and is both instructor and friend to me.

Jim Robinson will sit on my judge’s panel tonight. He was my first instructor and tied my black belt on me in 1978.  He inspired me then to push myself, to be tough, to not be satisfied with anything other than my personal best.  He set the example.  I never imagined that he would still be a part of my life 33 years later.

John and Allison Drew will be driving in from Dallas to be on the panel.  Allison will spar with me, as we did when we tested for 4th Dan.   John is now Master Drew;  Allison received her 5th Dan a couple of months ago.  Fellow school owners, but more importantly, friends that I know I can confide in and depend on.

Marcus Roby will be there.  I didn’t know him when he was on staff at Little Rock Martial Arts, but met him shortly after I started training there.    He has taught seminars at my school, driven from Texarkana to work out.  So many lunches and dinners, laughing and talking.

Gerald Garbett.  The “General”.  A fixture at LRMA, he received his 5th two months ago.   Friend.  Confidant.  How many classes, camps, seminars have we done together?  Thirteen years.

My little sister Tracey.  My closest friend.   Now a 4th Dan.  There are no words.

Master Danny Dring will be running the test.  My instructor and friend.   Week in and week out for six years he has put up with me.  One of the toughest men I know, he has an incredible depth of martial arts knowledge.   I’ve been honored to learn from him.   He has also set the example on physical conditioning, the man is crazy.   He was the second phone call when I found out I needed a hip replacement.  I insisted on the same brand of metal hip that he has.  He did all the research for me.  Unfortunately it didn’t make my kicks anything like his.

I could write pages reminiscing about “the old days”.  Too many people to list.  But all of them in my head and heart.

Charles.  Still my friend and supporter.  He cut the boards for my test tonight and even sanded the edges so the board holders could hold tighter.   He has always believed in me, pushed me to be better.  He supported my decision to buy the school, helped set me on the path of whom I am today.

Joseph Jordan.   We were to test together.  Because of his back injuries  I’m doing this alone tonight.  But he will be there.   He has been my friend, my partner.  What an extraordinary young man he is.

My staff.  Jackson and Kailum are the best.

Students and parents.   The reason I do what I do.  When I see the sense of accomplishment and pride on the face of a student, when a parent sends me a note telling me I have changed their child’s life, I know that I am doing what I am meant to do.

My “Peeps”.    Kira, Tracey, Patti, Leslie, Sheri, Jill, Heidi, Jessica.  My go to group of friends for lunch, dinner, “girl’s night out”, talks on the phone or dancing in the living room.   All friends because of martial arts.

Tom Callos and The Ultimate Black Belt Test turned my world upside down. My UBBT team members set the standard.  Tom continues to challenge me to think outside the box. Sometimes I fall flat on my face.  But I know that this year of UBBT has made me a better person and a better martial artist.

Steve.  My rock.   He knows when to push me, and knows when to back off.   He is the calm in the storm.

As I sit here, thinking about this test, it’s like a huge mosaic of faces, names, experiences.   Some are dusty and from the past, others new and shiny.  Martial arts have been part of my life for thirty three years.  I could never have imagined how my life would be changed when I took that first class.  So I’m going to head to the school, walk through the patterns a few more times.  But I know the test really isn’t tonight.  The test has been for the last thirty three years.  And it will continue on Monday.

 

What Is Your Tree and The Green Belt Project

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

whatisyourtree1What Is Your Tree?

Julia Butterfly Hill

UBBT Coach Tom Callos interviewed Julia recently.  You can hear the recording by going to the ubbt site. 

What Is Your Tree?

That is the question that Julia asks.  What do you believe deeply and passionately about?  Anything?  Are you willing to actually DO something instead of TALK about it? 

Your Tree does not have to be something tied to the environment. 

MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers)

Candy Lightner founded MADD in 1980 after her daughter, Cari, was killed by a repeat drunk driving offender. Cindy Lamb—whose daughter, Laura, became the nation’s youngest quadriplegic at the hands of a drunk driver—soon joined Candy in her crusade to save lives.

Susan G Komen Foundation

Susan G. Komen fought breast cancer with her heart, body and soul. Throughout her diagnosis, treatments, and endless days in the hospital, she spent her time thinking of ways to make life better for other women battling breast cancer instead of worrying about her own situation. That concern for others continued even as Susan neared the end of her fight. Moved by Susan’s compassion for others and committed to making a difference, Nancy G. Brinker promised her sister that she would do everything in her power to end breast cancer forever.

Andy Mandell “Mr. Diabetes”.

I had the honor of meeting Andy in Greensboro, AL.  A fellow martial artist, Andy, at age 62, just completed walking the perimeter of the United States in order to raise awareness about diabetes and how it can be prevented by a healthy lifestyle.  He is the founder of the Defeat Diabetes Foundation, and the author of a curriculum that I will be using at LRMA and in the local schools to educate the public about diabetes.   

These are examples of ordinary people that have found their Tree and  taken action in a life changing, history changing way.  We can’t all make such a huge impact, but we can take steps to change ourselves, our family, our community. 

 Green Belt and What Is Your Tree

While the concept of finding your Tree goes way beyond the environment, we are going to use it for the title of our Green Belt Project.   All students at LRMA are required to complete this project as part of their training to become a Black Belt. 

Step One

Pick a subject related to the environment that interests you.

Step Two

Do some research, look into the problem, what caused it, what can be done.

Step Three

Write a report so that you can share with your instructors and fellow students what you have learned.

Step Four

Take action!  Do something to make a positive change in for our environment.  Start with yourself and your family.  Then, how about showing what true leadership is, and make a change at your school, your place of business, the community. 

Greensboro and Building People

by Michelle Rae, posted in Relationships

I haven’t stopped smiling.  My energy is at a new level. Thank you UBBT 6 members, Pam and especially Coach Tom Callos for a truly life changing experience!

It takes a while to digest the whole experience.  I’m sure there are going to be several journals about it.

I met some incredible people.  Rori, who quickly became my sister/daughter (she is the same age as my son, but I think I have found a sister soul in that dynamic little package!)   Matt, who I only connected with on the last evening, but wished I had much more time with.  Rick and Jen,  Katrina, Chris and Christine, Chan, Jeff, so many others.

We left our egos at the door.  Really, we left them wherever we came from, because Tom laid the law down the first evening.  He drew a very clear picture of his vision for the weekend, and motivated us to live, at least for those few days, outside ourselves.  It worked.

Let’s face it.  We had the potential to be an environment of way too many “chiefs”.  But the chiefs all of us are in our own lives and schools became willing helpers.

I worked on the Rosenwald School for the most part, with a little time on the last day at the Thrift Store.  I was drawn to the Rosenwald project because of my past experience with renovation.  I’ve done 14 complete renovations over the years, several looked much like Rosenwald on day one.  A few  won historic preservation awards here in Little Rock.   Driving and walking through Greensboro, looking at all of the fabulous Victorian and Antebellum homes, I was like a kid in FAO Swartz.  My hands were itching to grab every single unloved  house and make it a home.

Of course, I’m usually the one in charge.

There was something liberating about walking up to the jobsite, asking who was in charge (Corrine) and saying “what do you want me to do?”  I grabbed a sander, put on my goggles and face mask, and got to work.  Working on one of the walls, I noticed there was a lot of damage to one of the windows.  I pointed it out to Corrine; she asked what I thought we should do.  “Pull it out.”  So that’s what we did.

The school, when we finished, had a barn owl in a chimney hole, the sky peeking through some of the walls, and no windows.  But it was lovingly, carefully sanded and painted by a group of diverse people who truly left their egos at home.

The Rosenwald School became a symbol to me of what the UBBT is all about.  When I started, I was in the same state as the school on that first day, standing, but with vines intertwined slowly tearing me apart.  Just as the school had become a storehouse of junk, so had I.  Stress, bad eating habits, lack of focus was slowly tearing me down.

There are still holes in the walls at Rosenwald, just as there are spaces that need to be rebuilt within me.  Some parts of the school could be re-used; some parts will need to be built from fresh clean lumber.  So it is with me.  I can reuse some of the existing Michelle material.  But I’ve got to fill some of those spaces with new material.

I found that new material in Greensboro, and I brought it home.  Tom provided much of it, with his guidance and wisdom  and example on how to live as a true martial artist and a citizen of the world.  Andy, with his passion for changing the future through education about Diabetes.  Pam, with her joyful smile and dedication to making a lasting impact on the people in Greensboro.   Every UBBT 6 participant provided it with the smiles and willingness to help and share.  Susan, one of the most awesome women I have ever met, will be in my thoughts for a long time.  Randy Edwards with his calm laid back attitude of just getting things done.  And my special girl Rori, who has so much wisdom, energy courage, and joy in her heart and soul.

So thank you, all of you that participated in Greensboro.  You’ve given me some very high quality material to build on.

LRMA and The Arkansas Rice Depot

by Michelle Rae, posted in Uncategorized

Tom Callos, my coach in the Ultimate Black Belt Test and founder of The New Way Network, has this saying:  “Taking Martial Arts out of the Dojo and into the World”

I really like that saying.  I really like that idea.

We are in the process of redefining what it means to be a Black Belt at Little Rock Martial Arts, what it means to be a martial artist.

January 10, 2009 was the first venture into Community Based Projects. 

35 students, children and parents from LRMA volunteered at The Arkansas Rice Depot.  

Let me tell you how this affected my daughter, Keely.

Keely is 6.  She was not excited about spending part of her Saturday at something called the Rice Depot.  She was less excited when I strongly suggested that she use $5.00 of her Christmas money to buy food for Rice Depot.  I explained that she would be helping other kids that might not have food to eat.  She was sympathetic, but not enough to feel enthusiastic.

I picked her up from school on Friday, handed her the $5.00 bill that we had set aside, and we went to the grocery store.  She put her items in her child sized grocery cart, and put items in my cart.  When we got to the check out counter, she handed over her $5.00 bill.  

Austin Herrington, is one of our LRMA students and Chairman of the Board of the Arkansas Rice Depot.  I’d told him earlier in the week about the $5.00 contribution Keely was making.  When we showed up at the warehouse, he made a big deal about Keely using her money to buy food.  You should of seen her smile and look of pride.  Those words from Austin meant a lot to her.  It reinforced how important words of praise from someone other than a parent are to our children.  

We were at Rice Depot for two hours.  We put together 750 disaster kits.  Three year olds worked.  Keely worked.  And we all had a blast. What a great way to spend a couple of hours on a Saturday.   Keely did not want to leave.  As we were walking to the car, she wanted to know when we could come back.

Studies have shown that when we can get outside of ourselves, connect with others, do something good for others, we are happier.  I want that for my daughter. I want that for my students.  

LRMA will be at Rice Depot every two months. We will be finding more Community Based Projects to challenge ourselves to make a difference in others lives, defining what a martial artist really is.