If You Cant Do, Teach

If You Cant Do, Teach

Teaching is the noblest and most essential skill in nature, both in the animal kingdom and humans. We teach our children and grandchildren essential life skills. We teach our spouses and significant others, and we teach our friends. We teach our pets. At times we are tasked to teach complete strangers, both by verbal lessons and by example. Point is, we are always imparting some lesson or other to our fellow humans or furry people. Some are born to pursue teaching as a vocation. Their motivations are diverse, but regardless, they are entrusted with the most precious of responsibilities. Teaching someone an essential skill changes lives and here’s the thing, it changes not only the student’s life but often the instructor’s as well. I have learned more about martial arts when I began teaching than I ever learned as a student.

          I have been a martial arts instructor since my teens. I have taught in baseball fields, basketball courts, U.S. Navy ships, recreational/community centers, gyms and finally in my own commercial venue. I’ve loved teaching martial arts, but I did not know that it was the act of teaching itself that I loved the most. The material is irrelevant. I discovered this when I was hired to teach a cryptology course for the Navy and the Army. It was, without question, the most boring subject matter known to man. And yet, the feedback I got from students indicated they appreciated my teaching methods. I do concede that it’s best to have passion for the material you teach. That passion is infectious.

          I have also trained with and learned from some of the best, and worst, instructors, both famous or little known. The lessons I learned from the worst instructors were the most powerful for me. Discovering what not to do is the immediate result of learning from the worst. When I want my instructor trainees to witness the worst example of teaching a student, I refer them to the second scene of Enter the Dragon where Bruce Lee teaches a lesson to a young acolyte. He was physically and emotionally abusive, vague and not very encouraging. I get that it’s just a movie and it was making a point. Also, that is exactly the way martial arts were taught in Asia. On the other hand, the training relationship between Daniel Larusso and Mr. Miyagi underscores the opposite way of teaching where the relationship is symbiotic and both teach each other valuable lessons.

          So, what’s the difference between good and bad. Well clearly, I’m not done learning yet, but first I’ll say that in my opinion, great teachers cannot be taught to be great teachers. They are born. Just like leaders. You can train someone to be an “effective” teacher, but the really good ones are the ones that not only teach but also inspire!

My journey through the martial arts has exposed me to some of the greatest teaching skills and philosophies. Some of my greatest teachers and mentors were martial arts instructors. And now I’m exposed to a whole new skillset of teaching with my ballroom dance instructors. It’s amazing how the skills overlap. I will list some of the important lessons below.

I received my chief instructor certification from Grandmaster Mal Kun Lee, who may have taught me the greatest lessons about teaching. He flew to PR and gave my son and I a personal one on one training certification camp. We trained at the Seven Seas beach for four days and it was an incredible, albeit intense, experience! He taught me that you must genuinely love teaching your students and fun is an essential component to teaching kids. In all the animal kingdoms the young learn through play. Games are a fantastic way to teach boring and repetitive tasks that are essential practice.

This was eye opening for me. Let me explain, He was the first Asian instructor I met who is an absolute cut-up! He’s like the Pied Piper. Every Asian instructor I had before him was stern and businesslike in their delivery. I had to submit a video of me teaching my students prior to him arriving. He told me he had watched the video and had only one question. He asked me, “Do you like your students Mr Hubble?” My response of course was that I loved my students. He said “No I don’t think so. You’re just mean. You’re strutting around like “lookit me, the tough Taekwondo instructor”. It’s funny because I admit I had submitted what I thought he wanted to see. I had never met him so I submitted what I thought all my previous Asian martial arts instructors would want to see.  Ironically my true style was exactly like his. I’m a bit of a cut up myself and I like injecting fun and humor into my classes. This was also an indirect lesson about how your limited anecdotal experience with a culture can pre-judge your thought processes and actions.

Bruce Lee said the best thing about teaching I’ve ever heard. A good instructor allows the student to express themselves honestly. They can only show the student the road they have to take, but it’s the student who must take it. Teach. Do not indoctrinate. It’s an ironic thing that you should not take credit for their successes or accountability for their failures when it is you, the instructor, who may have led them to both. In the end, it is the responsibility of the student to be diligent in their training, but they can only do that in an environment conductive to learning. For this the instructor must assume full responsibility.

Dan Inosanto taught me to trust the repetition of technique and that my body will eventually “have an epiphany”. I gotta admit, this one sounded like Bruce Lee’s “It’s like a finger pointing to the moon” lesson. Vague and with no specifics. But he was spot on. Mostly because it was impossible to teach the result. The lesson is the more times you repeat any action, your body will eventually figure out the best and most efficient way to perform it. Grandmaster GK Lee says that to master a movement requires 10,000 repetitions.

Grandmaster William CC Chen said “My Tai Chi is my Tai Chi. Your Tai Chi is your Tai Chi” when I asked him why my “raise hands and kick” looked nothing like his. I remember how it immediately set me at ease and allowed me the freedom to do “my” Tai Chi.  

Tony Torres taught me that in self-defense there is no right or wrong, just some actions that are more desirable than others. So long as you teach the student to take action. Damian Ross echoed this lesson with stating that the most important lesson you can teach a student in self-defense is confidence that they can take action regardless of the attack method or size of the attacker. It’s not a win/lose fight situation. It’s about survival and getting home safe. Confidence spurs action.

John Schwaebler taught me that you can run a financially successful martial arts school without compromising the integrity of the material.

These are just some of the most important lessons I’ve learned about teaching and only some of the instructors who taught me those lessons. I’ve also been certified to teach by the Navy and the Army in my 47 year career with the DOD. And now, as a student, I’m learning, or more accurately observing, a new set of teaching skills in the ballroom from some equally talented instructors.

Here’s the thing. Teaching is teaching. The subject matter is irrelevant. From setting up radio circuits, computer networks, forms, dances etc. all teaching has the same goal. To impart knowledge and inspire our students. This is why I say that you can teach someone to be an effective instructor, but the good ones are born to motivate and inspire. If your lessons in the martial arts, dance or macrame basket weaving can be applied to other areas of your students lives than you have done more than teach.  

I no longer own a martial arts academy. I seldom teach anymore except for maybe some private lessons online periodically. I am however, enjoying my role as a student again. I say again knowing that that role never ends. But I’m enjoying the pure freedom of learning. I often stop myself from “teaching” newer students when we’re doing group classes. The instinct never goes away. I will answer questions from my fellow students if the answer is simple, but I’m not qualified, nor do I have any desire to be a dance instructor.

Whether I teach full time in the future remains, in the future. I don’t like to say never again. But I can’t help but look with pride at the literally thousands of kids and adults who took the roads I showed them. Tracy Thomas changed the names of all his martial arts academies to “Changing Lives Martial Arts”. There is no more apt name for them. He is also retired from teaching, but he’s right. That’s what we did. We changed lives. Can there be any other endeavor more gratifying? A good teacher can change the world.

My 2024

Everyone reflects on their year to date around this time. I’m no different. Sharing it publicly seems to be part of the process. I’ll try to keep it short.

The most significant part of my year has been spent learning to dance. Literally learning to dance again. I thought I could a million years ago, but it turns out I had most of it wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I can move, but I was clueless to the tools and details of true ballroom dancing. Funny thing, I just signed up to tighten up on some Salsa skills and learn Argentine Tango and I could have done just that. Except for the tenacity and guidance of my instructor. She just won’t let me quit and she pushes me out of my comfort zone repeatedly, although she fervently denies making me do anything I don’t want to do. She may be right; it may just be my compulsion to slay the proverbial dragons in my life. It’s not just her. I’ve learned from each one of the wonderful instructors as well as other students like me in the studio. A trivial post-retirement dalliance has become a way of life.

The lessons this way of life has taught me are significant. One thing I’ve learned is that I can dance. Anyone can. How well I do it has little to do with dancing itself. Honestly, unless people are paying me to watch me dance it does not matter how well or poorly I do it. The point, as in all things, is to take the shot. Just dance.

I will never be a dance instructor or a professional. I say this knowing that God has a sense of humor and every time I make absolute statements like that, He switches things up for me. But I’m certain I have no interest in pursuing dance as a career path. Nothing to do with age (although that is also relevant). Nor does it have to do with me being a slow learner who can forget a dance sequence a mere day after learning it (so I practice neurotically). I just don’t want to lose the freedom of being taught and the sheer joy of just dancing for its own sake.

I had a long conversation with a childhood friend of mine last night when he called me to offer condolences for my aunt’s passing. He stated that he followed my extensive dance posts and pictures on Facebook. He said he was pleased to see how happy I looked in all of them. He was right. I’m generally an annoyingly upbeat person and choose happiness, but adding dance to my life has bumped up the joy factor. It is joyful. Perfect word.

Since retiring I’ve sort of adopted a gypsy-like lifestyle. I really love that I don’t have long range plans for the future. It’s all a crap shoot. One thing is certain though. I will be dancing. A Social Affair dance studio is the primary reason I don’t yield to my gypsy heart and pull up stakes. We have an annual “Teacher appreciation” day. I feel like the Little Drummer Boy who does not have an appropriate gift for a king. In this case for the people who changed my life. But I will modestly attempt to let them know how much they have meant to me.

So, I can’t end without offering some unsolicited advice; go and fucking do that thing! Whatever it is. I’d recommend dancing to anyone but it’s irrelevant. Take the shot. Challenge your status quo. Pursue that passion, whether it makes you look ridiculous or majestic. Do it for the joyful feeling it leaves behind. Do it for however long you wish and then do something else. Why? Because “Life is a banquet, and most poor sonsabitches are starving to death.”