The above is not me. While I’m sure that my parents can tell tons of stories about me as a tiny adorable girly girl, I’ve pretty much moved past that. I still wear makeup, dresses, and jewelry, but I’m no fragile flower.
The reason I bring this up here is linked to some experiences in class. My instructors are fantastic – they treat me like any other student in class. Some of the other students, though …
For example. I was working with one of the senior students one on one last night, and I could not for the life of me get him to feed strikes as though he were serious. His punches were slow and soft, his stick strikes were glacial. I don’t mind working slowly, since that cements good technique, but the floppy punches that give me nothing to work with will not help me learn. When I ribbed him about it, he grimaced and nodded and did the same thing over and over.
The really frustrating thing is that I know he doesn’t do this with any of the guys, even lower level students. He tends to push people. I felt like I was being treated like a little girl who can’t be expected to fight well. I’d brush it off, but other students, even beginners, do the exact same thing. Hit the boys hard, hit me like I’m made of crystal. It gets tiresome.
This. This is me. And they’d do well to remember it when we get in the sparring ring.