THE FAMILY TREE

 by Phillip Starr

One of my editors wrote to me, asking for a few paragraphs about me to be used on the back cover of one of my books, so I fired off some information that I thought was adequate. I listed the name(s) of my shifu, and his teacher, and his teacher. I listed the traditional martial disciplines that I have studied and listed a few of the exponents of those forms who had descended from the same lineage I had, along with some of their accomplishments. Any serious martial arts enthusiast can rattle off his lineage until the average listener is ready to slit his own wrists, so I skipped over quite a bit of information in the hopes of saving space. I figured my editor would find it more than sufficient.

Not. She wrote back, saying that although what I'd sent was very informative, she wanted to know more about ME and who I am. I replied and said that where I came from IS who I am... The importance of lineage is often a difficult concept for Westerners (as well as modern Chinese and Japanese) to really grasp. Reading through magazines and books concerning the martial arts, you'll find plenty of stories about well-known tournament champions or teachers that contain almost no information about who their teachers were. In fact, it's rare to find even one of these popular practitioners who can name his teacher's teacher (his martial arts “grandfather”).

This kind of attitude (in America, anyway) may have to do with our singular sense of identity; one of the great things about America is that it offers us the chance to become our own person, regardless of ancestry...the “self-made” man/woman. But in terms of the martial ways, identifying ourselves must be tempered with an awareness of our (martial) past. In a very real sense, one's merit is largely determined by one's pedigree. It has always been this way in the East. At the same time, having come from a renowned lineage doesn't guarantee that one necessarily has high skill or is a good person; there have been some fairly sleazy types who have descended from very highly regarded lineages...

However, if you tell me that you are, say, a 5^th dan in some system of karate or that you trained gong-fu regularly for a lengthy period, and you tell me the name of your teacher(s), and I recognize those names and know them to be teachers of high quality, I have at least some idea of how hard you can punch. This is certainly a faster way of determing level of skill than asking for a demonstration.

Most importantly, the reason our martial arts ancestries are so important has little to do with etsablishing ur reputations or proving our abilities...rather, the provides us with a real sense of who we are and gives us a certain self-awareness. Isn't this why so many people nowadays are digging through old records to determine where an ancestor died during the Civil War and so forth? Although our society has long looked to the future for its sense of well-being and fulfillment, many seem to be digging into the past to help them better understand their world and themselves. The martial ways are no different.

Since the arts were introduced to the West, we've been busy making changes to this and that in an effort to “improve” them. But many interested practitioners now seem to understand that all of this has only traded a priceless knowledge and understanding of the past for a rather uncertain future that has no real roots. They have begun to look into their lineages and the history that created the arts they practice.

I have met some practitioners who tell me that their forms were closely-guarded “secrets”, which is why they're not better known. In so far as Japanese martial ways are concerned, this is largely impossible; the many daimyo (lords) who maintained fiefs throughout that country ensured that they KNEW every form of martial art practiced therein. They dared not allow any “secret” styles to develop for fear of an uprising. This is why the lineages of the numerous ryu are readily available to anyone who cares enough to do the research.

As for China, there were arts that were taught only to members of certain families and not disseminated among the people. Such forms are exceedingly rare, however. And even so, a teacher of such a form should be easily able to provide a lineage.

Our lineage provides us with a structure and form and just as we are influenced by it, those of us who live in its shadow will strive to embody the soundness of the geneology that is behind us. It's who we are.