I have a female student in my community college class. She just showed up one day last fall. For the life of me, I could not understand why in the world she was there. My class is part of a voluntary program. No one has to be there. I don't even have to be there (I don't get paid). But there she was, week after week.
The thing was, she did not seem to be enjoying the class much. She is a tiny person (seriously, like half my size), and just handling a bokuto seemed difficult. But I have had small people before who eventually learn to control the weight of a bokuto (and even a suburito, after awhile). The thing that got me was her seeming indifference. Why in the world, I asked myself, was she there?
It turned out (and I have to admit this is clever), that she is taking the class for gym credit. I realized this when she approached me in January to ask how many classes she had attended since September. Aha. Course credit, when I am not getting paid to teach! Should I be in touch with the union?
So, finally, I had an explanation, though it really made me wonder what was on offer for gym that made my class preferable. She was there, week after week, as diligent as anyone taking a required, for-credit course could be. Wobbly sword, minimal footwork, lack of interest in learning to do anything more than she might need to. Sometimes she was the only person in the class on a given night. She was disinterested in the legacy of women members of the samurai class, or history, or literature, aesthetics, films or anything else. She did not want to buy a gi, she did not want to learn to use a saya. Weirdly, the only thing that interested her was - of all things - kumidachi. Did I mention she was driving me nuts?
But something changed in March when I was compiling an equipment order. She asked for a bokuto, and asked how much one would cost. I had, since January, at least gotten her to learn how to use a plastic bokuto saya (an episode filled with drama - "I can't!" Me - "Yes you can. Look, my arms are shorter than yours! If I can do this, anyone can." "It's hard!" Me - "Keep trying!"). No, she was not interested in anything else, just the bokuto, please, so she could practice at home.
Practice at home! I was truly surprised, but contained my heightened interest. Who knows, I thought, maybe she's trying for extra credit. By this time, having been to class steadily for 6 months, she was one of the longer-lasting people, but had little to show for it, technique-wise. I tried very hard to include her in comments and used her occasionally for demonstrating kumidachi kata, but the vacant look she often had, versus the relative enthusisam of other students, was not very motivating for an instructor.
Somewhere around mid-April the new equipment arrived. I handed her the bokuto and helped her put on the tsuba and dome'. She picked out a saya and obi from the equipment bag (incredibly, I no longer have to prompt her to do this), and used her new accessory for class. Just once, I saw her looking at it with what looked like a new-found sense of pride of ownership.
Since then I have noticed a slight improvement. Her stances are a little deeper, and though her chiburi is still wobbly, she is taking corrections. Last night, I saw those custom-designed nails wrapped more confidently around the tsuka.
If she's not really careful, she could turn into a real student.
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