When the seminar began, the atmosphere in the dojo was thick with emotion. There was excitement, of course, but much apprehension and nerves as well. Kyoshi opened, uniquely, with the "end of the lesson." He started the seminar by explaining the moral, putting the students' focus on the lesson we were trying to teach them forefront in their minds from the very beginning. That lesson? Trust in the God that is greater than you to help you accomplish greater things than you expect; encourage those around you, pray for them to find the strength and courage to face those things that seem insurmountable; humble yourselves as you come to a fuller realization that it is "not by might, nor by power, but by the Holy Spirit" in which we accomplish anything. That lesson did not really take hold. At least not at first.

When the actual physical instruction started, the majority (or perhaps vocal minority) of students were enthralled in the idea of displaying their martial prowess through the destruction of inanimate boards. Emotions were running high just as the students began practicing their strikes on pads. Enthusiasm, bravado, a decent amount of apprehension as well, were all thick in the air, as was the sense of "getting ahead of oneself" that often punctuates the start of any young martial artist's journey. There was a fair number of neutral students as well, simply focusing on the task and instruction set before them.

During this time, one female student (one of the higher ranks) stuck out to me. This student was one who had asked, almost consistently in the months leading up to the seminar, if/ when we were having a breaking seminar. This young lady was very excited and all too eager to try her hand at board breaking. When the time in the seminar came when the students were practicing on pads (not breaking anything), this student conducted herself with a discipline and focus that most adults would envy. Mastering her emotions, both excitement and apprehension, she set her mind on the instruction, lining each strike up with as much perfection as her rank would allow. She moved slowly, focusing on technique, rather than power. When the breaking began, she was only a few boards in before Kyoshi asked her to join the adult and upper ranking students (those who had taken a breaking seminar before) over at their station. She quickly graduated to breaking full boards with ease, then multiple boards at once, then utilizing the various strikes that were demonstrated by the instructors. Again and again, she conducted herself with humility and honor, cheering for her fellow students at their victories, openly wearing her apprehension at points so that her dojo brother and sister could come alongside to encourage her as well.

Back over where the younger, lower ranks were beginning to try their hand (pun completely intended) at the breaking of boards, we were setting them up in stages of various difficulty, gradually increasing the thickness of the boards until their successfully could go through one full board with two differing strikes. Then came the time for them to begin breaking more than one board. Again, starting small, they each were presented with two boards of about 50% strength of an actual board. One young man in particular was very vocal about "how much" he was going to break by the end of the seminar. He talked often about wanting to graduate up to a higher difficulty board when faced with the single. Now faced with two boards, he failed. Try and try again, he failed. On his third attempt his demeanor started to change. Between Kyoshi and I, we shifted his focus. Told him to stop rushing, to take those long breaths and line up his technique properly. I told him specifically to take three breaths and break with his fourth. The third breath was to be his prayer. Frustrated a bit, he tried, and on his third attempt, smashed through both boards. In that moment, his defeat had turned into humility. Not only did this student begin to excel well beyond his perceived capability, but from that moment on he was very attentive to the other students when they were breaking. He was encouraging them when they struggled, cheering them when they succeeded, and quiet when they were preparing. My guess, that quiet part was him saying a prayer for them.

The last student I wanted to highlight was another young man in the lower ranks. This student often has moments in class where he struggles with things. His brain will lock up in a moment of confusion. That moment leads to another, which leads him feeling overwhelmingly behind, and before he knows it, he is lost in his own head. There was a moment (again while working on breaking two boards at once) where he could not even crack the top board. You could see the situation overwhelming him, and though his fellows were trying to be encouraging, it was just too much. I approached the other students and asked them to take a few steps back, just to give him space. Kyoshi then knelt by him in this moment of crisis and said, "Why don't we pray together. I'll pray for you." I did not hear what Kyoshi prayed in that moment, but then this young man took his first breath, simply to line up his strike. The boards broke. He had barely touched them when, under force that could only be described as "Divine intervention" the boards snapped. I did not know how he was going to react. It was clear that he put absolutely no effort into breaking them, and anyone watching from the outside would have thought the boards were tampered with. This young student lit up with glee. His friends then joined in his celebration. He did not try the break again, but simply got back in line to let the other students go. When it came time for him to do the break again, without hesitation for fear, he tore through those two boards like he had been doing this forever.

So much transpired in the few short hours of this seminar. These are just three stories that stuck out to me, though to be truthful, I could go on and on about the way that the Lord worked in the lives of the students, through something as simple and mundane as breaking boards. Yes, there were failures that day too, attempts tried with no success, but the experience was not about destroying the boards. These students were destroying the obstacles they had in their life. They were presented with pride and were humbled. They were presented with struggle and were victorious. They accomplished all this by learning how to put themselves aside, show consideration to their dojo brothers and sisters, and have faith that God would allow them to do so much more than they ever dreamed. At the end of the seminar, nursing sore hands and radiant spirits, there was only one emotion felt in the dojo. Camaraderie. I may have gone to "help" Kyoshi instruct, but as is always the case, I learned just as much from the students through watching them strive and toil with the task set before them. Kyoshi remarked later that each student "broke exactly what they needed to," and each broke more than they expected. Some were more "successful" than others, but each of these students showed up with a different lesson to learn, and at the end, God had taught those specific lessons to every one of them. None of them will be the same after this experience, and if they apply those lessons to the rest of their training, and to their lives, there is no measure to what they will accomplish. I, for one, am overjoyed and humbled that I get to stand witness.

Victor Guarino
Renshi of Seigido Ryu and continuing student of Kyoshi Frank J. DeAngelo