Thursday, October 29, 2015

A dojo is not a class - part II

A number of years ago, I was going through a rather tough time emotionally. I asked a friend of mine, a Buddhist monk, if he could recommend some sutras I could read to calm my mind. He sent three. I printed them out and lugged them around with me for months, reading through them practically every day. I was not looking for comfort, I was looking for a sense of perspective.

I don't remember everything in the sutras. I do remember one portion read something similar to what your mom might have told you: hang around with the wrong crowd and you will begin to identify with it (or be identified with it). Another part that stuck with me was: people will attribute their own motivations to you.

That's a simple thought, right? And yet, when you think about it, you begin to see it everywhere in interacting with people. With regard to the situation that had upset me, years ago now, it was certainly true that I was thinking overall about the welfare of the group I was involved in. The person who ultimately managed to kick me out was thinking of himself as the font of all wisdom. He had decided that I must be thinking the same thing, and there could only be ONE font. Etc. (That's not to say I had not thought of myself as a source of relevant information for these people, but it was not my only, nor my primary interest.)

I am bringing this up because, as I said, people will attribute their motivations to you. After a dry, hot August, with my sponsor complaining about low class attendance impacting his bottom line, I thought of a simple way to kill several birds with one stone. Without going into detail, the idea would have increased income to the sponsor, allowed him to perhaps come to okeiko more often, and give me the autonomy I think a dojo should have, as opposed to a class. It would also allow me to build up a small amount of cash so I could invite teachers for seminars without having to front money I could only hope to recoup though fees. Win-win-win-win. The only caveat was that I would have to pay less to the sponsor than he might have gotten from a total stranger, but it seemed like a reasonable enough deal - it was more than he had been getting, and I was his teacher, right? He would be able to continue to attend okeiko for free, which was worth quite a bit. I was certain enough that this scheme would work that I ran it past some of the students, vaguely and confidentially, since implementing such an idea would impact how they paid for classes. Everyone agreed it was a good idea. I decided to run it past the sponsor.

Except that I had barely seen him over the past two months. I wrote several times that I wanted to talk to him (without committing any specifics to print). Eventually, inevitably, he heard a rumor that I was thinking of breaking my relationship with him (and I was; but only as a sponsor, not as a student). I received a hastily and badly-written email stating that IF I wanted to pay rent, I could pay the same as any other client (an amount that is actually overpriced for the space and location, given everything).

Let's just say the note reflected a boss-contractor relationship, rather than a student-teacher relationship. As to the motivation he was attributing to me, I'm not sure. I can state that my interest was for the welfare of the group, something that I thought would also be of interest to him as a student. In other words, I thought I could attribute my motivation to him. Unfortunately, though it isn't written that way, the sutra works both ways, and I was wrong.

One of my old, old budo colleagues once told me not to teach at other people's dojo. I don't entirely disagree. It's true I can't claim any students there as my own, but, currently, at least, people who invite me seem very grateful for what I can offer, and - they pay me. As much as I can use the extra money myself, I have decided to put my ill-gotten gains towards rent for a space that I could consider the dojo's "forever home." It may be small and only once a week or so, but it would be all ours.