by Phillip
Starr
I was a
young newcomer to this group. I lined up and stood still, waiting
for class to begin. Sifu Chen shouted the command and we all jerked
our fists to our hips. The best marching band in the country had
nothing on us; we all managed to move in perfect unison. But it was
sheer coincidence... And we
stood still, staring forward and not moving a muscle. I wondered
what was going on but something told me not to look around. I became
a fleshly statue. I remember thinking that we were fortunate that we
weren't in my karate class, which began with everyone sitting in
seiza!
I tried
to maintain a look of fierce determination. Probably looked fairly
silly, but I wanted to be accepted by this teacher. I wanted him to
know that I could take it (actually, I had virtually no idea of what
that would entail). Sifu Chen, attired in his sleeveless t-shirt and
sweatpants, walked casually around us, and seemed to be oblivious to
our existence.
Then
he turned and looked at us. His gaze was gentle enough but he
radiated an energy that was palpable. Was he getting inside my head,
somehow? He nodded slowly to himself and told us to relax. For some
inexplicible reason, I knew better than to completely let go. I
relaxed my arms and spread my feet a bit just to get more comfortable
but I kept staring straight ahead. I stayed focused and didn't let
my young mind relax very far. I knew my teacher was still watching.
And in the months and years to come, I'd learn that he was ALWAYS
watching.

From
the moment he saw us enter his home or the training area (which was a
recreation room in his basement), he watched...how we carried
ourselves, how we greeted and treated each other, the condition of
our training clothes, how we warmed up before class (not just what we
did, but out attitudes as well). And he watched during and after
class as well. He was always evaluating us, not just in terms of
physical condition or martial prowess, but our spirits and what was
in our hearts as well.

And he
was constantly testing us, often in very subtle ways, to see how we'd
respond...not only to doing our best to accomplish what was
essentially an impossible task, but also how we responded to failure,
criticism, and even success. He was probing, finding out who and
what we really were, inside and out. Those who he judged to be
worthy (in character and spirit more than mere technique), he'd spend
more time and once they reached a certain level of skill, he'd show
little “tweaks” - aspects of the art (spiritual and/or mental as
well as physical).
When I
began teaching many years later, I sought to do the same thing. It's
not something that can be assimilated quickly. I'm still working on
it...