Grading to Shodan

The heat and the stench and the tense atmosphere hit me like a wall as I bowed at the entrance to the Dojo.  Outside, it was a cold December afternoon; but inside it was warm and muggy, with condensation running down mirrored walls and dripping into the threadbare carpet.  Involuntarily my body tensed, as the importance of what I was about to do this afternoon began to hit home.

Strictly speaking this was not a Dojo; this was the Hombu.  A brick-built structure situated just inside Barking Park, alongside the boating lake. The Hombu was a place of real significance for anyone who trained in the Ishinryu style, for this was the HQ for British Ishinryu Karate.  This was the place where some of the very best of British Karate had trained over the years.  This was the place that had created and nurtured National and International Karate champions.  This was a very special place, but it was not a shrine – it was much too grubby and scruffy to ever be a shrine – but for the Karateka who came here, it held a unique, and a very special, significance.

I didn’t come here often, and when I did it was most often to grade to my next belt.  Today I was to grade for the most important belt of all – Shodan.  My first Dan.  My first black belt.

Every serious Karateka remembers the day they gained their black belt.  For me, it happened in 2004, and the memory remains vivid.  I remember the sights and the sounds and the smells.  What I don’t remember is the pain and the exhaustion of performing up to, and perhaps, even beyond my limits.  But I do remember the elation of being awarded that prize.  A prize that no amount of money can buy.  A prize that, at the end of the day, comes down to your own effort, your own focus, and your own sheer desire for it.  Lots of people helped me along the way, but on that December afternoon there was just me – just me and the training I had managed to absorb over the previous few years.

There were a few of us grading to Shodan that day.  Various ages, male and female.  Some were teenagers, some were older, and some into early middle age like me.  On the face of it, we seemed a very disparate group with so little in common.  But inside, each of us had a fierce and passionate desire for one thing – to pass our grading and to earn the right to call ourselves an Ishinryu black belt.

As we lined up to face this test, we came under the full scrutiny of the grading panel.  This can be intimidating (some say it is designed to be intimidating) and what a panel it was that day.  Helen Raye – British Kata champion.  Tony Dean, ex-England fighter and nowadays the longest continuously serving member of Ishinryu.  My own club instructor at the time – Lee Smith – he, above all being responsible for me being here today.  Foremost and centre on that panel sat the head of the Ishinryu association – sensei Ticky Donovan.  Anyone who knows anything about British Karate will know about the legend that is Ticky Donovan.  These were the people who would test me that day.

There are far easier ways to gain a black belt in Karate.  You can buy a belt on-line for a few pounds – an obviously pointless exercise.  Less obviously pointless are the unlicensed karate clubs, the so-called MacDojos who are happy to award you a black belt in record time in exchange for your time and, most of all, for your money.  In Karate, some black belts are clearly worth more than others.  For me, an Ishinryu black belt was always the gold standard.

I had done it.  I was now a black belt.  Not just any black belt – I was now an Ishinryu black belt; and in the world of Karate, that means something.  That means something special.

But, as I was soon to learn, this would be just the start of my journey.