Blue Stripe

Saturday I tested for my blue stripe in Taekwondo. The belt order at my school is white, yellow stripe, yellow, green stripe, green, blue stripe, blue, redstripe, red, then black. In order to earn each belt you must test on a set of criteria. Each test includes certain kicks, punches, and blocks, a form and a set of one steps. A form is a pattern of attacking and defending movements. It kind of looks like a dance. One steps are a series of defensive moves done in pairs-one person attacking, the other defending. Once you get your yellow belt, you are also required to spar.

A white belt represents a lack of knowlege. Yellow belt means that you have built a foundation. Mrs. P uses the metaphor of the earth. Green belt is like a tree or a plant growing out of the yellow foundation towards blue belt, or the sky. Red represents the sun, but also signifies danger, as anyone that close to black belt should be a pretty dangerous martial artist. Since I began Taekwondo a little over a year ago, I have always thought of black belt as a goal, but at the end of our test Mrs. P dropped some knowlege on us. "Getting your black belt is just the beginning of the journey," she explained. "There are 8 black belts. When you get your first black belt, you aren't even considered a master or eligible to teach yet." I'd never thought of it that way before.

I made the mistake of not eating enough and then taking my vitamins first thing in the morning. By the time I got to the Dojang I felt ill. I actually puked. I wanted to go home, but then it was time to take the test and as I had worked so hard, I didn't want to let myself down. So I took a few deep breaths and warmed up. We lined up shoulder to shoulder by rank, highest to lowest. It was a small test and I was the only green belt to test. After we bowed in, we were asked to sit along the wall of the Dojang. We test in order of rank, lowest to highest. As I sat there trying to be still and trying not to think about feeling sick, I watched the other people in my school. I felt proud to be a member of my school. When it was my turn, I did my best, but half way through my form I totally messed up.

My form is called Yul-Gok (it's a pseudonym for the Korean philosopher it was named after). It has 38 moves. I missed a punch and ended up on the wrong foot during my elbow strike. I'd never done that before...not once in all the times I practiced it. I was so embarrassed, but instead of bursting into tears, which was my initial impulse, I kept going and finished. Mrs. P told me to turn around and take a breath, which I did, internally kicking myself the whole time. Then she asked me to repeat my form. And I did. After messing up the way I did, I felt surprisingly a lot less nervous and I managed to get through the rest of my test.

The next person to test did a really good job, but she has a heart condition. Halfway through the test, her breathing became so hard I seriously thought she was having an asthma attack. It was terrifying because we could only just sit there and hope that Mrs. P made her stop. In the end, she had leave the floor. It was so quiet, and the Dojang is so small that I could hear her coughing and I knew that she was crying. After a while, she came back and actually finished her test. As we stood shoulder to shoulder facing the flags, I thought about our dojang tenants: improvement of mind and body, ethical self conduct, and unity among members. Yeah, I made some mistakes, but I did my best, and I realize that no one will judge me. Also after watching T nearly pass out, I realize there are more important things than pride. I also realized how much I've become a part of this community. I'll find out if I passed tomorrow.