Spiritual Abuses in the Martial Arts
Author:
Anonymous
Martial Arts: for some instructors, the arts of
physical and spiritual conditioning
through sexual exploitation, financial rape, and emotional
abuse. When you have completed this kind of black belt
program, it will leave you with feelings
of overwhelming inadequacy, compounded with severe
anxiety attacks.
It cost me $17,000 to learn this, but I was
fortunate in that I was taught by the
best. For the less fortunate, it would probally cost a great deal
more, but my Master was a patient and understanding Master.
He would allow me personal time in his own
private meditational chamber, where he would burn
incense and gently tell me why my life had gone wrong.
He was a 6th dan black belt. In South Africa he
had been Botha's private bodyguard. He had
also served in Cuba, Russia, and had been a mercenary in
Angola. All of this he told me, and how could I not believe
him, having watched him move across the
dojo with such deadly precision?
He terrified me, which was his first lesson. For
with terror how can there be anything but
utter submission?
It's taken me twelve months to recover from my
experience. How could I have allowed this
man to dominate my life so completely?
I can rationalize it to some extent with the
understanding that this is what this man
does. This is how he works. He's spent years perfecting this
technique. He knows the buttons to push, and he knows the
people who are vulnerable. Unfortunately,
I was one of them.
Martial Arts seemed to be the perfect mix of
maintaining physical fitness while
learning basic self-defense. An introduction course was offered for
$85 for 30 days. Additional expenses were never mentioned.
They were only presented after the student
had become a regular in the dojo, and the
'Master' had time to assess the students financial and emotional
state.
The 'Master's' ability at these assessments was
quite artful. He would run credit checks,
title searches, and even go so far as to actually drive by an
applicant's home address to get a 'sense' of each of his
students. The size of a potential students
home seemed to be an integral part of the Art of Tae
Kwon Do, or at least to this particular 'Master'.
The dojo was run by two 'Masters' . S and his wife
P. In retrospect, I can clearly see the
roles they took on are chronicled in almost every detective
movie. One of them would play the 'good' cop, while the other
would play the 'bad' . They would
alternate roles from time to time, making it even more
difficult to understand what was taking place. One would rant
and rave about the purity of Martial Arts,
while the other would offer patented sympathy,
in what I now realize is classic manipulative behavior. This
same behavior can be found in alcoholics,
cult leaders, and physically abusive homes.
Extreme anger, compounded with a sudden shift to
sympathetic compassion is incredibly
effective. Before you know what you're doing, you find yourself
attempting to earn the 'Masters's' approval to avoid his
rage.
This is basic psychology 101, but there is a vast
difference between knowing and
experiencing this type of manipulation. The experience leaves you
breathless and unable to clearly gain any objectivity.
My 30-day introductory course was marked by
repeated praise by 'Master S'. He
would often compliment me on my form and dedication, comparing me
favorably to his other students. His comments about his other
students was always tinged with disgust.
He made me feel as if I had been naturally
blessed with abilities only he could appreciate. I felt flattered
and gratified and renewed my efforts to
earn his praise.
After my positive assessments, he took me aside
and told me about his Teaching Program for
gifted students. The program was a two year intensive
study, which on completion would reward the student with a
black belt and a teaching certificate. He
admitted it was expensive, but added that this
course was rarely offered to any but his finest students. The
course would cost $10,000 and include
special instructions.
It was a great deal of money but I was hooked. I
loved the physical challenge of Tae Kwon
Do, and 'Master S', with all of his experience,
seemed the perfect instructor.
I paid the fee and began my studies. Included in
the two year program, was the added
benefit of personal time with 'Master S'. He would take a favored
student into his meditational chamber, a small cozy room,
candle lit, filled with the relaxing scent
of incense, and speak to them. He would impart his
wisdom, explaining the world, and how we had all failed the
world. Only he, 'The Master', was able to
live with dedication and grace. At times he would
grow angry, raging against the
incompetence of his other students, but
always reassuring me that I had been chosen, I was the one who
understood him.
By this point, I was determined to finish the
two-year course. My financial commitment
added to my determination. How could I possibly walk away after
having spent that much money?
'Master S' began to test my dedication. His
comments became more disparaging. At first
all of his criticism were relegated to his other
students, but gradually they began to include me. How could I
dress the way I did? I was a married
woman. What did my husband think of me? Did I know
that my husband called the dojo to talk to the 'Master' about
my behavior?
His attacks were insidious. I couldn't refute them
without calling everything I had been told
into question. And If I questioned any of it,
then everything was a lie. It left me in a position where I
was forced to believe all that he said.
'Master P', his wife accused me of flirting with
her husband. I was shocked, and told her I
was married and I loved my husband. She smiled and told me ,
"Many women had found her husband attractive, and I was no
different."
Insulted, I ignored her for the rest of the day.
'Master S' took me aside after practiced,
and told me his wife had mentioned my attraction. He put
his hand on my shoulder, and told me not to worry, she was a
very possessive person and that they were
not really married.
I went home wondering if I could continue
practicing at the dojo. If I didn't
continue, how could I explain to anyone how crazy things had gotten?
How could I possibly explain to my husband what was going on?
I knew exactly what 'Master S' and 'Master P'
would say. They would tell him that I had
become enamored with the 'Master' . It would be their word
against mine. They were supremely disciplined people,
professionals, spiritually enlightened
beings.
Would my husband believe me?
I decided to continue with the course. I would
practice, do my work, and ignore
everything else.
'Master S' asked to speak to me after practice. He
wanted to know what was wrong. Why was I
avoiding him? He had come to count on me. I was his prized
student. Had something happened at home?
I assured him everything was fine at home.
He told he knew how hard it must be for me. My
husband traveled and everyone knew what
husbands did when they were away from home.
I tried to protest, but he refused to listen. He
told me he had spoken with my husband, and
my husband had confessed to him.
"Everything will be all right," 'Master S' assured
me. I would learn strength through my
exercises.
As I left the dojo that day, 'Master P' halted her
class to ask if 'The Master' had spoken to
me.
I told her he had.
She laughed derisively and announced to the class
that I was 'The Master's' latest conquest.
Before I could reply, she called the class to order. I
stormed out of the dojo.
I drove home, agonizing over my humiliation. I
vowed to speak to them tomorrow. I was
determined to either resolve this issue, or quit.
'Master S' called me into his meditational chamber
the next day. He asked why I was so upset.
He could feel the disturbance in my aura. He suggested I
meditate more.
I told him I was confused by what was happening.
He told me he had often seen this before with many
of his favored students. As their
spiritual powers increased, they began to question the priorities
that had ruled out their lives. Through decades of meditation
and exercise, he told me, he had achieved
a oneness with the universe that allowed him to
see into peoples minds. He could see my anxiety, and I must
strive harder to resolve this issue. He
told me he was aware of my husband's business
practices, and I should be cautious. There was a time of
great upheaval approaching in our
financial and personal lives. He advised me to continue
meditating and searching for the proper path. He would help
me find the way.
His kindly demeanor made me question my motives.
Maybe it was I who was at fault.
I had been told often that the outside world was
ruled by cruelty and suspicion. Was I
allowing these values to create my anxiety?
The 'Master' promised to work with me on a
personal level. I was worthy, while so
many of his students weren't. They were ruled by money and their
sexuality, only I understood the true values of TKD. 'The
Master' advised me to ignore the other
students. They were wealthy dilettantes without
discipline or morals. They could not be trusted.
'The Master' began to work with me. He would
undertake long arduous practices, then
retreat to his meditational chamber. He began to illustrate
his spiritual lessons with anecdotes from his past. He told
me he had been forced to kill people, and
while these deaths had been justified, there were
those who sought to destroy him because of these actions. He
would never allow this to happen. He would
take whatever measures were necessary to
continue his life's work.
I suddenly wondered if he considered me a threat.
And if I was, what would he do?
Our lessons became increasingly more brutal. 'The
Master' would fly into a rage, trembling,
hands tightened into white knuckled fists, while he would
scream at the class, at me, accusing us of attempting to
destroy him.
'Master P' would calm him and take over the class,
scolding us for driving 'The Master' into
rage. We must all understand that 'The Master was an
elevated spirit, a being of unparalleled power and wisdom.
Terror became part of my life. At home, I was
terrified that I would say something that
would jeopardize my husband or children. At the dojo, I
strived to remain respectful, petrified that my actions would
send 'The Master' into a paroxysm of
violence and anger.
Would 'The Master' allow me to quit? Would he let
me walk away, after all he had told me,
without retribution?
I had to do something. I couldn't live this way
any longer. I couldn't eat, I couldn't
think, all I wanted to do was escape. But where and how?
Three days later I was raped.
'The Master' took me aside to talk to me. He led
me into the kitchen. I could hear the
sounds of the class practicing on the other side of the door.
'The Master' told me my practice suit was inappropriate. It
excited the other students.
I was wearing what I always wore, a tee shirt and
work-out shorts.
"If you dress like a slut, men will treat you like
a slut," 'The Master' told me. "Is this
the way you wish to be treated?"
His hands were locked into fists. I could see the
anger building behind his eyes.
"What are you trying to do to me? he sneered, then
reached out to touch me.
Before I could move away, he grabbed me.
Could I have fought him off? I don't know. All I
could think was this man had killed
people, and had told me he would kill again. Would he kill me? My
husband? Where would it stop?
Would it ever stop?
When he was done with me , he told me to quickly
fix myself up and get back to class.
I rearranged my clothes and stumbled out of the
kitchen.
'Master P' turned to glare at me. "The Master's
favorite Pet is ready to join our class, "
she announced sarcastically.
I felt the eyes of the class burning through me as
I walked across the dojo.
I called the dojo that night and quit. I could
hear 'Master S' screaming in the
background, as I mumbled the words and quickly hung up the
phone.
I convinced my husband to take us all away for a
week. I was terrified to stay at the
house, convinced 'The Master' would do something to us.
It's taken me a year to look at this experience
with any objectivity.
When I look back, I can clearly see how easily I
was manipulated. But while it was
happening, it happened so quickly and so insidiously there was never
a time when I was able to step back and see what actually was
taking place.
I was afraid to post this, afraid that people will
read it and see only my own
weakness.
What I want people to know and to understand, is
that this happens. It happens in every
facet of life, and the Martial Arts are no exception.
As one female tae kwon do black belt puts it, "A
good instructor will not fault you for
standing up for your rights. A bad instructor will try to
convince you your inner instincts are wrong." (1)
There are abusers and users everywhere. They hide
wherever they can, and use whomever they
can. This is not an indictment of Martial Arts, but it is an
indictment of those corrupt individuals who abuse it to meet
their own twisted needs.
The only solace I can take from this horrifying
experience is the hope, that by making
this known, I might help you or someone you love avoid what I was
unable to see.
###
(1) Ronda J. Sweet, in "Demanding Accountability
from our Masters," Inside TaeKwondo Oct.
1995.
|
Disclaimer
Exploitation
