Sign Of The Times
It almost goes without saying that both the style and attitude of martial arts schools have changed radically over the decades. A quick survey will turn up schools that advertise not only the martial arts, but a wide variety of exercise programs, assorted self defence systems, “realistic” street fighting, every variety of weapon, aerobics, jogging, hot tubs, stun guns, you name it.
Dojo, the Japanese term for “school,” especially in reference to martial arts school, comes from the classical Chinese term dao chang. This was any specific area in ancient China where religious rites and divination ceremonies were performed. The word “dojo” was probably brought to Japan from China in the early eighth century. Originally it did not have the meaning of “school,” nor did it carry the meaning of “temple,” but instead referred to some sacred area, particularly in an isolated locale within a mountain said to have supernatural powers. Dao chang literally means “place of the Way.” This usage was developed by mountain ascetics who spent their lives in the wilderness performing various purification rites through which to attain enlightenment.
The early martial artists who sought out these mountain ascetics for spiritual inspiration and guidance gradually adopted the term “dojo” to refer to their own areas of practice. In ancient times, there were no martial arts schools as we know them. Instruction took place wherever and whenever a teacher decided to practice or to share his wisdom – whether in an open field or deep within a fog shrouded mountain. Some martial arts masters claimed that the only school was on the battlefield, or at the moment one faced an opponent in combat. Another popular saying at the time was “The only true school of the martial arts is the dojo of life.”
In the feudal era of Japan, aspiring warriors roamed the countryside seeking out skilled teachers in order to learn martial arts skills. As Japan entered an era of relative peace in the 1600’s, many martial artists who were no longer being employed by feuding warlords moved to urban centres to earn a little “bread” as instructors.
This was the beginning of dojo as we know them today. At the time these early dojo were called machi dojo or “city schools.” They were sometimes looked down upon for teaching overly formalized or unrealistic fighting techniques, however, with the passage of time, these dojo became very popular, with competing schools proudly displaying their specific lineage and style on huge boards intended to attract new students.
Many schools, particularly those that could be termed “hard core,” weren’t interested in marketing their wares. Instead, these schools displayed a rather unusual sign board. Except to an initiated martial artist, this sign had no meaning at all. It depicted only a sickle (kama) and a rice bowl or wan. Cryptic indeed.
But when the Japanese word for sickle and rice bowl are read together, they form the word kamawan, which literally means “we don’t care if you come in or not.” A more figurative translation would be “we don’t care if you challenge us or not.” Unlike today, this signboard was not intended to attract students, and probably frightened the more faint hearted ones away.
When you see the barrage of billboards, ads and flyers touting most martial arts schools today, it’s tempting to simply write them off as “signs of the times.” These marketing materials, however, accurately reflect our modern view of the martial arts – both from the standpoint of the teacher and the student. Centuries ago, aspiring students spent years searching for a competent teacher. Today, it’s as easy as opening the yellow pages and letting your fingers do the walking. At the same time, teachers have more problems running a martial arts academy than ever before. The bulk of these problems are linked to the realities of “business overhead” in a commercially competitive society.
Because of these pressures, our values have changed greatly. Teachers must now expect less from students, and students expect quite a bit more from their teacher – or off they go, shopping around for the next school with more to offer. Ultimately we become so concerned with receiving more and more that we lose sight of the actual process of training and learning.
Article taken from KODO Ancient Ways by Kensho Furuya
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