Why Your Child is Not a Black Belt
Filed under: Admired Martial Artists Month, Guest Post, Tales from the dojo
By: Ann-Marie K. Heilman, Kyoshi
Okinawa Kenpo Karate Kobudo
Heilman Karate Academy, Inc.
To the uninformed person on the street or perhaps the new student in the dojo, all black belts may seem alike. The parent of a child whose classmate at school is an 8-year-old third degree black belt may have the feeling, “What is holding up my child’s progress?” Are all schools alike? Is there one course of study that, when followed will end with the coveted “black belt?” Or is one school easier than another? Is one school really that different from another? The answer to a traditionalist is a resounding YES! We need to do some fact finding.
In the Okinawan/Japanese systems, wearing a black belt is a sign of maturity; in other words, the student has demonstrated mature physical growth, knowledge of the physical basics of their system, has demonstrated over time an ability to make sound judgments thus revealing mental maturity. None of this is accomplished very quickly even if the student is an adult.
When we discuss techniques in class we judge a student’s ability and knowledge and expertise of technique compared to an attacker. In adults, body size usually does not change drastically. With children’s growing bodies techniques must change as their bodies change; their arm and leg length for example, as well as their height, will render some techniques useless or perhaps better depending upon their current physical size. This generally is not true for adults who reach their maximum growth by the late teens and will stay there for years.
When we consider adult versus child judgment or mental maturity we find a difference. Why consider sound judgment as a marker of black belt eligibility? Think about self-control or quick judgment in a street situation. There are adults who should not study martial arts. They haven’t learned self-control. They lose their temper, use martial arts as a "power game" over others or do not use good judgment in everyday matters. Certainly martial arts can provide them with an opportunity to learn these virtues but that depends on the quality of instruction, which is factor of the school they attend. And all schools are not alike.
In terms of the definition of a "black belt" there are many different ideas. Some systems promote individuals who are good athletes and can kick high, punch hard, and/or win trophies. There is nothing wrong with this idea, but a traditional view of the rank implies mental maturity. This does not come early in a person’s life but develops slowly over time.
We know of many kids who are excellent in the physical aspects of their art and we might call them "junior black belts” to recognize their proficiency, but they are still children. Can they teach? Sometimes. I have known a few children who can convey information better than some adults. Can they make sound judgments about people? Sometimes. But not always. That takes experience and maturity. Should we "hold them back" until they are 16? Usually, but not always. At many traditional dojos those individuals who demonstrate ability can be recognized by awarding them a junior black belt. However, full ranking is generally held off until maturity has been demonstrated and that does not come easily or quickly.
Curriculum is another matter. As a traditional dojo, the HKA offers a full program of okinawan karate and Kobudo (weapons). From basics (stances, kicks, blocks, strikes), through self-defense, sparring, to participating in demonstrations, tournaments, and dojo events – we cover a lot of material.
Sport karate is a new development that came into existence in America in the "60’s. It has blossomed and grown into a billion dollar business. It is a lot of fun and those who have accumulated a number of trophies will tell you the great feeling of accomplishment they have when they win. But sport karate is different from traditional karate where "points" don’t matter; your performance and development as a person in mind, body, and spirit does. There is much more to say on this matter and we will continue the discussion in future blogs.
Diagnosis Happy
Doctors who are diagnosis happy should not communicate with parents who are google happy. It makes for a very unpleasant relationship and two very stressed out parents.
On Monday, our daughter’s doctor diagnosed her with ITP, despite the fact that her rash was clearing up, despite the fact that her platelet levels were on the rise. She insisted that Big I be treated like a pin cushion once again. Yesterday she had more blood drawn, and we’re not sure if there was more blood or tears leaving her body. It is a traumatic thing for a kid, one that I didn’t want her to have to endure more than once.
Today, Big I’s doctor called with the results. She’s a DO and she’s brand spanking new. Our regular doctor left the practice and we’ve been seeing anyone who will have us lately. We’re usually very happy with the doctors there but for now, we’re without our main one. She started the phone call by telling me that Big I’s platelets have returned to normal levels. In fact, they were really quite good. The normal low range is 150,000. Her reading was 300,000. Fabulous.
Then she went on to say that she tested for some other things and of course, something turned up. The air temporarily left the room and I had to sit down because I felt like the weight of the world was just crushing my chest. She started talking about elevated liver enzymes and an elevated ANA level which signifies "rheumatoid disorders." She told us she wanted us to see a pediatric rheumatologist specialist in a nearby city and that levels like these can be indicators of early-onset lupus.
I didn’t know what to say. I was in shock and devastated all over again. I called Mr. BBM at work and I called my Mom. My Mom is an RN and she works with two excellent doctors. While we were discussing things, I mentioned to my Mom, "Couldn’t her liver enzymes be elevated due to her being on antibiotics? Can’t antibiotics do that?" My Mom quickly pulled out her PDR and what we found in the side effects section of Big I’s antibiotic was nothing short of a list of her problems: ITP resulting from the antibiotic, elevated liver enzymes from a reaction to the drug. And why wouldn’t she be allergic to this drug? The entire family, me, Mr. BBM and Lil C, are all allergic to penicillin, severely allergic to penicillin.
I called Mr. BBM and discussed Ackam’s Razor: the simplest solution usually applies; and we decided together that this doctor is diagnosis happy. She diagnosed ITP on Monday; then admitted she doesn’t have it today. She’s insisting we cart Big I all over the state to meet with specialists when the truth is, the kid doesn’t have a single symptom of the disease. Not one. Isn’t it at least possible that her messed up levels are due to an allergic systemic reaction from the antibiotic?
When Lil C reacted to a drug in that family, she swelled up like the Pillsbury Dough-boy and had our doctors asking if we had any history of lupus or Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis in the family. We have no family history of anything like that in our family. A dose or two of steroids and Lil C was back to normal. Isn’t it possible that Big I’s reaction stuck to her insides? Wouldn’t elevated liver enzymes indicate a reaction to the drugs?
The doctor admitted it’s only a small chance that something is wrong with Big I, but still went ahead and scheduled an appointment for her that, truth be told, we will probably cancel. Submitting your child for testing when they need it is one thing; submitting your child to a lifestyle of doctors appointments and diagnoses that immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion is not a road we’re interested in traveling. We took her off the antibiotic and think she should have a retest in a couple weeks when she’s entirely better and the drug is out of her system completely.
So, my question is, why did it take two stressed out and concerned parents and an RN Grandma to see the most obvious potential problem here? We are definitely asking to see a different doctor next time, and I am definitely laying off the google. Talk about needing a break from a "drug."
That “Break” Can Come ANYTIME Now
Big I had her follow-up finger stick today. The nurse asked Mr. BBM to put pressure on her finger for 30 seconds after. When he released, her finger began dripping again. She also had two petichial spots in her mouth that weren’t there on Friday. Despite the platelet reading being better today, the doctor is convinced that she does indeed have ITP. I spent the weekend thinking this was a temporary set-back and today I just can’t deal with any of this.
She has to have more blood work done on Wednesday and they are sending all of her results to a specialist at a hospital an hour away. She can’t go outside for recess, participate in gym class, or take karate for the time-being. She’s signed up to play t-ball with her best friend and the doctor said we’ll have to wait and see whether or not she’ll be able to play.
She’s back at school today and I just want to be there, shielding her from anyone who might run into her or hurt her in any way. I can’t imagine being told I couldn’t go out to recess or play in gym class as a kid. She’s going to be devastated. I am just reeling today with the weight of it all and just don’t know what to do with myself.
Not One More Thing
There is nothing more frightening than being faced with the very real possibility that something could be seriously wrong with your child. After spending the entire week out of school, Big I actually seemed to be perking up today; and then she showed me an odd rash that was forming on her arms.
A couple years ago, we rushed Big I to the doctor with another weird rash. We were reassured by the doctor on that visit because he told us it was a common rash and not a serious petichial rash. He explained the difference to us and told us that petichial rashes don’t blanche when you push on them. Petichial rashes are very serious business and represent bleeding beneath the skin.
The rash that Big I brought to my attention today was none other than a petichial rash. I started inspecting her everywhere and found a splotch on her forehead, more rash on the backs of her arms and shoulders, up and down her arms to her wrists and even on her back. I immediately told her to go show her daddy who was working in the basement, not knowing that our world was about to be turned upside down.
Within minutes, we were on the phone with the doctor and within another 20 minutes, Mr. BBM and Big I were at their office (Still sick, I was stuck at home with Lil C.) A finger stick revealed a very low platelet count and a white count that wasn’t even showing up. Mr. BBM was told to take Big I to the hospital for a complete blood work-up. The doctors mentioned lupus, mono, a blood disorder called ITP, leukemia and about ten other awful possibilities.
We were sick with worry. You know things are bad when you’re actually hoping that your child has ITP instead of any of the other auto-immune diseases that would have rocked our world in unimaginable ways.
Five vials full of blood and three hours later, we got the call that everything, minus her platelet count, is completely normal. Platelets are supposed to be around 150,000. Big I’s came in at only 53,000. They think it’s directly related to how sick she has been this week. She is under strict orders to take it very easy this weekend. No rough playing, no doing anything that might cause her to fall or get hurt. Monday morning she’ll have to have another finger stick to make sure her platelets are coming back up.
I got off the phone with the doctor and just broke down crying. There is absolutely nothing more terrifying than imagining all the potential things that could be wrong with your child. I was just so relieved I could turn that part of my mind off.
Today, we found out that our offer for building our new home has been accepted. It’s amazing how something as exciting as building a new home can completely pale in comparison to finding out your child is going to be o.k.
It has been a sick, horrible, and scary week for us; but we are hoping that these bits of good news begin a brand new trend, a healthy new trend.
Crawling Out of the Cave Called Flu
I’m coming out of my antihistamine-induced haze just long enough to say "hello," and that we are all alive. . . o.k. barely before crawling back into my bed. Ahh, my sweet, sweet bed. . . where was I? Oh yes. For the first time in three days, I finally managed to get out of said bed and get a shower today. Actual blow-drying of the hair did not happen though. That was just asking too much, holding up a hair dryer and all. When you’ve had pretty much nothing to eat in three days with the exception of pears, applesauce, and Nyquil, there’s not much energy to be had. I don’t know what exactly Big I brought home from school, but it is one nasty germ.
Big I was home from school for the third day in a row today. She saw the doctor and was diagnosed with the flu and two raging ear infections. The diagnosis for me is a flu that turned into some serious bronchitis and after getting some heavy duty antibiotics last night (called in because I simply could not leave this house), I woke up this morning feeling slightly more human. Slightly, although still not at all well, certainly not well enough to get out of my pajamas and definitely not well enough to talk or breathe for more than two minutes without erupting in a coughing attack that makes me feel like I’ll either a.) barf, b.) pass out from lack of oxygen, or c.) all of the above.
From the violent cough I’ve been dealing with on a near constant basis, I feel like someone has been beating me with escrima sticks all over my torso. In fact, just go read Hanshi’s article and observe those pictures of weapons. I feel like I’ve been beat with them all. I hurt so badly that it was painful to even face the shower stream today. When I was getting out of the shower, I almost looked for bruises before deciding that I’d really rather just get back in bed.
To make matters worse, Lil C woke up with a fever today. She’s spent the entire day sprawled on the sofa or in bed, much like Big I and I did for the past three days. I feel so horrible for her, because I truly can’t recall ever feeling more awful. Big I complained that her arms hurt and my head was pounding so horribly that I had moments where I thought there must be a demon in there eating my brain or something. We won’t even discuss the cough and its "by-products". It’s been a horrible couple of days.
I don’t know if it’s from the medication I’m on or from the actual illness, but I also have the absolute worst taste in my mouth, as if I’ve been chewing up aspirin all day or something. It’s disgusting and nothing makes it go away. Nothing.
If I had to look for a silver lining in all of this, I would have to say that I am going to have killer abs like no other. Sure, they hurt like hell and if anyone pokes me in the ribs, I’ll probably pass out instantly from the pain, but swimsuit season is nearing. . .
. . . and now it’s time for bed for the fourth time today. Be nice to my blog while I’m out sick or I will totally cough on you.
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