Day at the Martial Arts Center

A few weeks ago I was walking through Lincoln Square and saw a bunch of kids coming out of a Martial Arts Center. They looked so cute in their "gi" that I went in to find out how much the classes were. Oh no, it's not that easy. You have to go in for a private trial class and all that jazz before they will reveal their pricing. Yesterday was that day. All four of us went, a real family event. When we walked in I noticed people bowing to nothing in particular. I got that eerie feeling I get at Michigan football games. I am not the kind of person that likes repetitive hand motions and chants just because everyone else is doing it, feels a little too cult-ish to me. When the kids walk in they have to say "May I please have my attendance card Ma'am?" while maintaining eye contact. They also are required to learn how and where to do the aforementioned bowing. All of this pressure to be polite was odd to me when essentially they are coming here to learn how to knock the lights out of someone. I guess the lessons in "Karate Kid" and "Way of the Peaceful Warrior" were lost on me. I sat in Cole's class. At the beginning he had to chant that he would keep his room clean (sales pitch for the parents? I think so!). Then the teacher began showing him how to stand and would ask him what position he's in. Cole would softly reply "I don't know" while shrugging his shoulders. She would say to use his left foot, he'd use his right. I could tell he was fading fast. Reminded me of soccer when he would run to my lap in the middle of class whining "I'm too tired!" When class was over he stomped on the teacher's mini hand held punching bag square thingy in a "I'll show you!" kind of way. The teacher replied "Cole, was that nice to do?" Out in the hallway Cole and Noah were putting on their shoes and Cole yells out "Where did Karate girl go?" Not very polite or deferential. I felt the kind of embarrassment that I felt in my childhood church if you laughed, coughed, or flinched the wrong way. The social pressures were too much. As "Karate Girl" goes over the 1, 3, or 6 month payment plans, Cole farts. We sooo don't belong here. On the way home everyone is tired and has headaches. John says he doesn't want to spend his Saturdays at a place that smells like feet. He tells me that when his mom signed him up for Karate he hated it so much he would sit outside the center while the class was going on (he walked there by himself, so his mom didn't ever know). Needless to say, we are tabling Martial Arts for now.