Why Become a Black Belt?
by John Haaland, Ph.D.
5th Dan Black Belt


The reasons for becoming a black belt are usually very personal, and as diverse as the reasons for beginning the practice of a martial art. Perhaps if we discuss why I became a black belt, it may trigger a motivational kernel in yourself. For those of you who are already black belts, think back on why you did it and what makes you continue now.

I discovered as a child that I had inherited what I later could identify as the “berserker” behavior traits of old Vikings. By my late teens I realized that my nature was life-threatening — to others and myself — requiring me to be extremely cautious of the situations I dared expose myself to. I had a fundamental need for self-control. At the time I knew nothing about the martial arts.

My first exposure to a warrior tradition was when I enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps after college. Their warrior tradition goes back to the Royal British Marines. We were taught to view ourselves as professional killers, constituting a force in readiness to defend the country, and most particularly, the Corps, from any attack.

There was a savage elegance and fierce pride that permeated the combat ready Marine. There was also a frustrating loss of individual relevance, a meaninglessness to most of the routine activities, a terrible sense of lost time and an experience of senseless loss of life.

My Master Sergeant while in the Marines fought in the battles of Guam, Iowa Jima and Tarawa. He never had any training in a formal martial art, nor had any of the Marines I knew who had just come back from the Korean War. My brother, who was stationed in Korea just as WWII ended, was recalled for the Korean war, and never heard of any Korean martial arts. Taekwondo by that name was a concept in the mind of a few Korean martial artists who sought to unify Korean martial arts. Based on my own experiences and those of my friends, martial arts as a lifetime practice was unknown and not relevant to my life.

As a graduate student working at Honeywell, I met several scientists who were studying the martial arts. One was a green belt at the Karate Center being taught by a Korean named Jay Hyon. Another was a combat-trained tai chi chan black belt who had been trained by a Chinese master in Cleveland. Still though, martial arts training seemed to have little relevance to combat training, which I thought was the only valid reason for studying it.

With my workload between graduate studies and Honeywell increasingly long and stressful, I began to feel I needed super powers. Browsing in an old bookstore I discovered the book “Karate By Pictures: The Science of Self-Defense by the Empty Hand” by a French martial artist named Ple’e. The text was sparse but stressed a mystery common to all serious martial arts - the answer to the question “how can one reach peace when always thinking ‘kill or be killed?’” How can an art of war become a method of reaching your utmost potential?

He claimed that each of us has supra-normal physical and mental powers, and that the true practice of the way of karate is the fastest way to develop such powers. He said you could achieve a special state of mind which will liberate super energy without experiencing the “madness” of rage or the “terror” of fear which seems necessary for ordinary people to attain such powers. It requires long training in achieving a certain kind of balance between the liberation of energy and the maintenance of a calm, lucid mind.

Because this is such a complex interplay, it is very seldom achieved by Westerners who rush from one extreme (fighting) to another extreme (trying to learn things from books) without going through the development which only proper practice can achieve. He stressed the real thrill of “solitary training” where one is fact-to-face with oneself. Training is solely for your benefit, to preserve your life and develop your finest human qualities.

He stressed katas (forms) that were to be done 20 to 30 times in a row with a one-minute rest in between, using total physical and mental energy while putting “more truth, more speed and more force” into them each time. If you have only a year of training, thiseffort often results in fainting or vomiting, and quickly teaches you your limits. Knowing one’s limits is important and shows you how you can be mistaken about yourself. He emphasized that achieving a black belt is only the beginning of self-mastery, and great experts often come back to the simplest of beginning moves, which they now perform in a new way.

Though only 60 pages long, Ple’e’s book made a lasting impression on me. But though I could grasp the importance of the mind set and the simultaneous toughening of the body, I could learn very little of the actual practice from a book.

For the next twelve years I put my inner self on hold, containing the core of my turbulent spirit in a thick shell of reason. However, I realized that managing my work and myself was going to take a lot more than trying to learn from a book.

It wasn’t until I was 34 and living in New York City that I finally began my formal study of the martial arts. I began studying Kenpo Karate. The movements were intricate and interesting. Sparring was becoming popular and safety equipment had yet to be invented, so bruises and cracked bones were common.

For the next four years I explored several different kinds of martial arts, primarily Okinawan kenpo and a little Japanese shotokan. When I moved back to the Twin Cities I looked for a good martial arts school to continue my training. There were no kenpo schools and the Shotokan karate style looked too stiff and rigid, while kung fu looked loose and unnecessarily complex. So I began the practice of taekwondo in 1973 under Master Jay Hyon when I was 38 years old. It was under Master Hyon’s guidance that I first began meditation, which I found to be an essential prerequisite to development as a martial artist.

At that time I was a corporate Vice President of the Pillsbury Company and in great need of mental and physical development. I became committed to my personal development in taekwondo and began a balanced discipline of daily taekwondo practice, stretching, calisthenics, running and meditation.

There are many ways of developing oneself - through education, experience, physical fitness and inner awareness. In our technological society there is a need for activities which unify the individual, integrating mental and behavioral skills with total body activity in such a manner that constantly challenges self-improvement.

The evolution of sophisticated martial art systems - combining the development of physical and mental skills and disciplines with a way of life stressing codes of honor, respect, integrity and courage, has particular relevance for our times. As I pursued my training in taekwondo I was satisfied that its balanced stress on techniques, flexibility and fitness offered me the greatest potential for self-development. By the time I achieved my 1st Dan Black Belt in 1977, I had just begun a transformation of my body and my mind that is still ongoing.

As I said at the beginning of this article, the black belt journey is a very personal one, and as diverse as we are. As you pursue your training, whether you’re a white belt or black belt, take the time to think about what you’re doing and why. Remember that the more effort you put into something, both physical and mental, the more value it will have for your total life.


 

©2002-2008 Minnesota Taekwondo Center, Arden Hills, Minnesota.