Monday, October 1, 2012

Sempai versus Sensei

This is one of those "eat crow" moments, but the realization below cleared up so much crap for me, I can't really complain.

I had a superb weekend of training a week ago with a jodo sempai.  He has trained with the uber-sensei in Japan for nearly 20 years, but at the beginning, he was introduced to the dojo by someone senior to him.  That senior subsequently had a falling out with the Japanese teacher, but this guy continued.  He said of the man who introduced him, "He was my sempai, but he wasn't my teacher."  I thought this was a profound distinction to make and I have been thinking about it ever since. 

I used to think that when a traditional teacher retired or died that, as long as the place was well-run and the lines of succession were clear, there should be no problem in a place continuing on, under "new management;" i.e., that the daisempai would succeed and everyone would continue to train as before.  I used to think, when I saw dojo fall apart after the death of the founder, that the chaos was a result of ego, overweening ambition, or just poor management.  As I collected stories, I found all kinds of nuance.  For example, one famous sword dojo in Japan, after the death of the founder, continued, with his widow's permission, to use the dojo space which was part of his home.  While students began aligning themselves with one senior student or another, no one wanted to disturb detante by stepping forward as a successor (he did not name one).  Instead, the senior students installed the founder's chair at the front of the room to remind everyone of the founder's presence.  I did not follow up on this, but, conceivably this arrangement continued until the widow passed away. I doubt it went on much longer than that. 

In another case, the named successor was not considered sufficiently competent to continue as the teacher, resulting in a defection of students to someone more qualified, or to someone in a new art form altogether.  In yet another case, there were challengers for succession.  Factions formed, resulting in this case in a three-way split of a traditional ryuha. 

And it's not just budo - there have been stories with traditional dance groups as well, and I am assuming that other traditional Japanese art forms often suffer the same fate.  A charismatic teacher (especially, I think, the rapidly vanishing group that trained before the Pacific War) passes on, and things fall apart.  They then reconstitute if the style is a strong one, but sometimes in a very different way from how they were before - whether in fragments or branches or in some other dimished state.  Eventually, the new situation stabilizes and becomes the "new normal."

I used to think this was a tragedy, and that if only people had communicated more, trained together better, etc. that it did not need to happen.  But there it is - a sempai is not a teacher.  The sempai who took over my group after my teacher died, in spite of some honorary rankings, was not really qualified to teach much of what he had inherited, though he was canny enough to maintain a connection with a teacher in Japan in the style he preferred, which makes him sort of a study-group leader rather than a teacher.  My job, if I had decided to stay, would have been as the de facto teacher, guiding from the rear at best.  Maybe, if I had held on long enough, I might have come to inherit the group myself.  But it did not work out that way. 

But here's the thing - maybe things should fall apart.  Maybe a founding teacher dying is the spiritual equivalent of getting kicked out of the nest.  The jodo sempai I mentioned above founded his own group and maintained and strengthened his relationship with the original teacher in Japan.  As the instructor in my own group, I am in the process of forging new relationships with teachers and colleagues, even as I leave the old connections to my old group, along with my expertise in that particular style, which I no longer teach.  And the jodo instructor's remark, along with my experience, suggests this is not a bad thing.  A headmasterless style, like SMR or MSR iai should be able to tolerate multiple teachers, as long as people are qualified to teach (and I realize that is the rub).  Each of us who become teachers has a tradition to uphold, rather than just one or two individuals.  As long as we are consciencious, we should get a long fine, both with our students and with each other.

As I said, it feels weird after four years of soul-searching to figure out that this is probably how things were supposed to turn out anyway, not that I have wasted all that much time.  It feels good, finally, to have a chance remark clear up a lot of fog.  It's about time. 

No comments:

Post a Comment