But can she type?

How do I decide on topics for this blog?  Generally speaking, if it's something I am still thinking about the next day, and if I have time, up it goes.

Last night at the end of okeiko (a rather crowded one), I mentioned casually that the classes at the alternate space, on Mondays and Thursdays, were ongoing if anyone was interested.  A few of the people who come on Wednesdays do come on Thursdays, but the Monday class, which I am co-teaching with someone else, have had a little trouble getting off the ground. 

I share responsibility for the Monday class with a colleague, who happens to have a first degree in the style.  While I do not have a degree, I have been practicing it for some time.  As we get in more regular practice, I hope that whatever credentials I can garner in the field will become practical for me, but at the moment, as I said, we are still getting off the ground.  Neither one of us is considered a teacher, as first degree in *any* koryu style is about 15 years removed from even a junior license to teach.  We are being supervised by someone else, and our function is more like "workshop leader."  Since I actually have more time in than my colleague, I am the one in the front of the room, as weird as that makes me feel sometimes.

While I was out of town, the only provision I made for Mondays was that if the co-instructor could not be there, he should let the manager of the space know so the practice could be cancelled.  Since I have been back, I have pointedly not asked what happened while I was gone, as there was nothing I could do about it anyway.  As it turns out, he has recently purchased an apartment for his family (after a long search) and sent me a regretful email saying he hoped he could be back soon, once the renovations for his new home are complete.  As a result, I spent Monday practice by myself - not a bad deal, actually, as the space is free, and I am generally happy to use the time to review things, especially after training in the Old Country.

One person who has just lately started with me, when I reminded people about Monday and Thursday classes, remarked that my colleague had not been available much lately.  I responded that I had not been in the country lately, but I had been there last Monday night.

"Yes," he said, "but do you have a degree?"

"What?"

"Do you ahve a degree in the style?"

"No," I responded, "but I have been practicing since he was in junior high school.  Just because I have not tested does not mean I don't know anything.  I certainly know more than you."

It reminded me of my adjunct days, when, in spite of my two graduate degrees, students would be skeptical of my knowledge of the subject.

"This place can't afford [name of my famous advisor], but it can afford me.  And I know a great deal more about this subject than you!"

But there it is, and I asked myself then, and I ask myself now: if I were a man, would this even come up?  Martial arts, especially in the US, while it early on made significant inroads against racism from time to time, remains relentlessly sexist.  Even people in Japan, where gender divisions seem more obvious, wonder at the lack of female participation in budo here.  As one female teacher of naginata, a traditionally female-dominated form in Japan, remarked to me on her US teaching experience: "I never taught men until I moved here.  I keep asking myself: Where are the women?" 

It is one of the explanations for how my situation evolved as it has.  Previously, I was manager of my old dojo.  I planned events, and even taught most of the students, but when push came to shove (literally) nearly all the students (dare I say it?  To a man) chose to stay with the guy.  Some of them admitted to me later, in one way or another, that it might not have been the best thing from a learning perspective, but they weren't about to jump ship later on either (not that I would have let them join me).  Other American colleagues of mine have said, simply, "I have never even met a woman who does what you do, let alone teaches."  And they mean it as a compliment.

What to do about the student?  After all, if he wants to deprive himself of a solid experience based on his perceptions rather than the quality of the experience itself, so what?  I have been doing this since before he was born.  I don't need to prove myself to him or anyone else, except the teachers I currently choose to study with.  So, I will ignore him.  Students like that I don't need.