Cho Dan Essay

Tonight, I will test for my Cho Dan, or 1st degree black belt, in the World Tang Soo Do Association. As part of our preparation, we take a written test (up to twice, if needed; I passed on my first attempt… both times) and write a thousand words about Tang Soo Do.

I failed my sanity check and wrote it as a poem. Enjoy!


Twas two weeks before Dan Camp when my teacher and friend,
as I was leaving the dojang after a fabulous class,
asked “Are you testing this cycle” Thus the planning began.
Was this a thing I could do, could I make it and pass?

If I test in September, and again in the spring,
I would visit Tikal as a new Cho Dan Bo.
Pre-Testing next Dan Camp could be a real thing,
But I found in October one goal had to go.

January’s test is usually late,
So we relearn what holidays help us forget.
Last year it fell on my own birthdate,
Testing so soon would be a close bet.

With regular practice and no real chance to rest,
Was I being too ambitious or just slightly insane?
I gave it my all, I gave it my best.
My knife skills were iffy; my shoulder, in pain.

My breaking was lousy, I can’t say that’s new.
But my one steps were solid, and I knew all my forms,
I was happy to pass and then learn Sip Soo.
But how did I reach this point that transforms?

When Cassandra, my daughter, had turned almost four,
we went to the fair to enjoy rides once again,
stopped at some booths, thought about them no more,
till a phone call came in, we stopped to think then.

Was karate something she wanted to try?
It’s truly hard work, not like Kung Fu Panda,
while really quite fun, Po’s too goofy a guy,
earning a black belt’s more than Hollywood propaganda.

Cassandra's first karate class
Cassandra’s first karate class

Her first class looked great, she had a fabulous grin,
When I look back at it now, I see many a friend.
Some still do karate, others have left it since then,
I didn’t know yet that our hobbies would blend.

I promised her when I saw the first buddy week,
I’d try it with her, take my turn on the mat,
I didn’t know then that my body would speak,
to say my appendix was a bit of a brat.

I woke up that Christmas in a hospital bed,
worried in two months for my stair climb,
ninety-four flights up I would tread,
forty-some minutes was quite a slow time.

I sat three more months with my books or my hook,
crocheting or reading as she learned some new skills,
watching the classes my daughter partook,
while I thought about crafts and paying the bills.

Hugging Cassandra after my first karate class.
Hugging Cassandra after my first karate class. This was before I even had a uniform.

Winter became spring, as May rolled around,
I was invited to class, to my delight and surprise,
not just for a week, a whole month I had found,
celebrating mothers with some pain in my thighs.

There was pain in push-ups and again in each crunch,
though I’m flexible enough, I always could kick.
I found there’s no pain in one single punch,
unless there’s a board or even a brick.

I know that my desk job does me no good,
sitting all day is hard to offset.
Needing more exercise, I understood,
karate was something I could not regret.

Training beside that cute smiling face,
spending time exploring one steps together,
driving towards one or other new place,
these are things that we would certainly weather.

I trained most of a year, and at a regional event
saw Grandmaster destroy a piñata with skill,
after our demo teams to great lengths had went
to show their moves, devotion, and will.

The next spring was a setback, unfortunate for me.
It would not quell my passion, this thing with my shoulder,
I pulled something wrong when cutting a tree,
it felt more like I had lifted a boulder.

Six months I sat out, sad to just watch,
knowing it would take time to achieve,
the skills she would learn as she stepped up a notch,
knowing my health would give no reprieve.

On the plus side I’m older, I had a clear goal,
she wasn’t quite six, she was quite content
to learn something new, she was on a roll,
as a Little Dragon, she made her ascent.

The next summer, my health again wasn’t that great,
I wound up in therapy for pulling my hip,
I sat for two months, as it messed with my gait,
and acquired a walking stick on our road trip.

Two thousand fourteen was a year full of jaunts,
Disney, Hawaii, and Guatemala anew,
some were a first, some were old haunts,
this time though, my skills travelled too.

With some consternation and also great joy,
after extensive searching and some interview pain,
I quit my old job for a new employ,
not working at home, but still, quite a gain.

The downside I found was I had a commute,
the length of which would not let me teach;
the earlier class I would overshoot,
the later classes just in my reach.

As time went on, I found my job shifted,
I bought a new house, left for an earlier drive,
the timing restrictions were happily lifted,
I could plan out karate, make sure I arrive.

I knew by this point that I do like to spar,
and I’ve come to enjoy even hapkido.
I’m not quite the addict that my instructors are,
that may be a change I yet undergo.

It took some time, moving’s always a mess,
and a birthday piñata claimed some of my time,
my first Prep class helped me obsess
on the skills I would need to advance my belt climb.

October added another workout,
bimonthly, with black belts, all of them skilled,
I gather there could be a larger turnout,
the space we were using is nowhere near filled.

The day crept closer to the August pre-test,
one skill, then another, I learned on the mat,
with time to spare, I completed my quest,
Ninety one-steps were learned, some fell a bit flat.

There was just one month till the test in the Dells,
just enough time to refine and improve,
and appear before judges with no whistles or bells,
working hard that day to make them approve.

Three days before, a crash dragged me from the mat,
my car was totaled by a distracted pick-up truck.
The doctor said your concussion will prevent testing for that.
Between the diagnosis and car shopping, I was stuck.

At Valpo, five months later, I pre-tested – again,
enjoying myself despite a horrible cough.
I’m ready for April, it’s time to ascertain –
can I break two boards in this final face off?

The most important step.

“What is the most important step a man can take?”

The first one.

That was my first thought upon reading the question in Oathbringer.  As it turns out, that was the character’s initial response too.  It made me think about some significant first steps I’ve taken in recent years.

  1. Followed a friend into our graduate program.  This was significant because it didn’t match either of our majors, though it was my minor.  It was that or law school; I think I picked the right one for me.  That was the first step in my career in Information Technology.
  2. Picked up a flyer for a fan-run Chicagoland convention while I was at GenCon.  That convention is long since defunct, but the effects linger – I met my gaming group, and ex-husband, because of that convention.
  3. Signed our daughter up for karate.  It seemed like something good for her to try, and she was interested in what little she had seen (err… Kung Fu Panda).  There is certainly an element of luck that went with finding the right school, especially since we hadn’t been looking for one.
  4. That first year when I decided to clear weeds out of the old garden patch and plant spinach.  I’ll admit, I had no idea what I was getting into… vegetable gardening is addictive.

As it turns out, the answer was actually “The next step.”  Those were, of course, significant too:

  1. Interviewing with a Chicagoland company when I finished my graduate degree.  Having a degree is lovely, finding a company that will hire you to work with it is even better.  And it’s the reason I ended up in Chicagoland.
  2. The second fan-run convention I attended in Chicagoland was Capricon.  Not only is it a great convention, I’ve made friends for life at it.  It was an excellent next step.
  3. The next step at karate was getting me on the mat with her.  And again after my accident.  That worked out well, I pre-tested for first degree black belt last weekend.
  4. Gardening has turned into a series of next steps for me.  When I moved to my current house, I actually moved a raised bed set in before I moved furniture to the house.  It was early June, which is already a late start for gardening, and it turned into a fabulous harvest.

According to my cats, my first step should be to feed them.  My next step should be to feed them again.  They’re about to be disappointed at least once.

Crafting Confusion

Some days, I have trouble deciding what craft project to work on, and it’s largely because I have too many in progress at any time. At the moment, I can count three that are started, none of which have deadlines, and one more that has a deadline near the end of this month.

And yet, I’m having trouble deciding which one to work on next. That’s not even counting bits of the mending pile, like the large plush dog sitting on my couch because he has a minute seam tear.

“Crafting?,” you may say.  ” That’s not on your list of goals.”

True enough, yet here I am, looking at my craft projects.  I bought fabric last weekend to make a caftan.  I thought I’d be buying blue fabric, but what jumped out at me was a brown fabric with embroidered patterns.

I have a crocheted Cthulhu barely started from before my accident; I had to take a break from crocheting after it for a bit because my shoulder was hurting.  Instead of going back to it when I was ready to crochet again, I started a blanket.  Ideally, I’ll finish that blanket before it gets too warm; it’s a fairly thick yarn, and I don’t want to be working with it during the summer.

I’m also working on a painting, which is really outside my realm of expertise; I’m far better at crocheting.  But I’m enjoying painting as an artistic outlet, and have an idea for the one that will come after this one.  I only have one spot where I store a painting in progress, so I do actually have to finish that one before starting the next.

Do websites count as craft projects?  I have a couple of those that I need to work on too.  Plus all my goals… it’s going to be a busy year.

Women’s March 2018: March to the Polls

Last Saturday was the second annual Women’s March, held in cities across the country and around the world.  There really isn’t a single cause to march for; there’s a plethora of causes, all meaningful to some of the people attending.

Last year’s march was a direct response to the election of a man who brags, not confesses – as that would imply remorse – about sexually assaulting women because he is rich and can get away with it, as well as responding to a political movement that seeks to reduce choice and equality for anybody outside their core support base, which is typically white men.  And so we march for equality and choice, and the right to fight back against sexual assault and harassment.

Our political system is a mess of contradictions. In the Gettysburg Address, President Lincoln described our government as “of the people, by the people, for the people,” but the people elected at the federal level are increasingly out of touch with the average person.  The base congressional salary is $174,000 a year; assuming a standard 40-hour work week for 52 weeks, that calculates out to over $83 per hour.  Yet the federal minimum wage is $7.25 – an annual salary of $15,080, assuming it’s a full-time job, and the highest state-level minimum wage is only $11.  There are no specific set skills required to run for Congress… what exactly is it that makes them worth $83 an hour compared to people we rely on daily in every aspect of our lives, from restaurant employees to retail workers to teachers and more?  At best, to run for Congress you need enough money to start the process – it’s not an appealing process to the average person who is struggling to put food on their tables.  As so we march for a living wage.

Our federal representatives have affordable health care provided by our government as one of their many benefits, yet debate whether the rest of us should.  Most are college educated, yet again, seem too willing to pull federal money from education at all levels.  And we march for education and health care, which are key to being one of the great nations of the world.

There’s a declining number of veterans in Congress – at one point, the House and Senate included significant percentages (see here), and has moved away from that – which is perhaps how the support for our active military and veterans has declined.   I don’t mean supporting the wars – that’s a different political discussion – but the people who are willing to put themselves in danger to protect our country’s interests.  Congress, having shut down (again) specifically declined to fund our active military salaries, yet continue to fund their own salaries.  Our active military make far less money than our federal representatives; they live on those funds.  As so we march for the people who have and are putting their lives on the line for us, only to be forgotten by our government whenever they become inconvenient.

Over the years, the laws have evolved to ban slavery, extend voting rights to women and minorities, and more, recognizing in particular that we are a secular nation and as such, our laws should reflect that separation of church and state in order to allow diversity to feed into our system and improve our country.  We know the United States can do better, because we have repeatedly improved ourselves.  To paraphrase The Last Jedi, we’re not fighting what we hate, we’re marching for what we love.

And we vote.

Setting goals for 2018

We are taught at karate that goals we set are goals we get, and are encouraged to set goals for the year.  These are some of the goals I have set for myself this year:
  1. Test for my Tang Soo Do black belt – this is a no-brainer, it’s what I expected to do in October.  The tests are held at our regional tournaments, which happen twice a year, so I expect to test in April.
  2. Renew my Project Management Professional (PMP) certfication – actually, I completed this since I wrote it down.  Yay!  One down!   Time to start on the next cycle.  It’s a continuous learning opportunity, requiring 60 credits of training every 3 years, so as soon as I finish, I start towards the next cycle.
  3. Add a new garden bed – this has slightly changed since I wrote it down.  I entered a sweepstakes and won a discount towards a Garden Tower, so I’m adding that instead of a more traditional raised bed.  It will be my first foray into vermicomposting, which involves worms.
  4. Garage door with a bit of a gap
    The garage door lets in a little bit of light… and leaves… and air.

    Garage door projects – this is actually two projects in one.  The door from the kitchen to the garage is an interior door; it allows a bit of light and air in.  It’s not terrible, but combined with the need to replace or improve the garage door seal, I’m paying more for heat than I should be.

  5. Duolingo recently added Korean as a language option.  Since we learn snippets of Korean at karate, I thought I’d try picking up a bit more.  I don’t have time for daily lessons at the moment, my current goal is at least once a week.

I’ll come back to these later in the year with updates.

Accident details

It’s been a couple months now since my car accident, and I realized that the details get fuzzy the further past it I get.  While part of me would love to forget it, I’m still dealing with some of the aftermath and do want to preserve the details somewhere.

There’s not much I can say about the commute that day.  It was a Tuesday, and it was raining, so there was stop and go traffic on I-355.  I was in the middle lane, because there’s a pot hole in the right lane a little bit after the toll, and you feel it more when you’re moving slow, so I try to switch back to my normal lane after that point.  It was a little chilly, I had switched to my winter coat instead of a sweatshirt, but I wasn’t wearing a hat, and my gloves were in the pockets.

I was in the open road tolling lanes, very solidly stopped in traffic around 7am, when I happened to look in my rear view mirror and saw a pickup truck barreling towards me.  I had just enough time to swear (and believe me, the word was not “fudge”) and glance at the distance to the car in front of me before the pickup slammed into me and pushed me into the next car.  My steering wheel airbag deployed and caught my face, I could feel it on my lips.  My foot airbag also deployed – I didn’t realize that existed – but it pushed my foot off the brake.  After a stunned moment, I realized I was moving again as I slid into the back doors of two cars, one in my lane and one in the right lane.  I swore again (still not “fudge”) and slammed my foot onto the brake.

When I was sure I was done moving, I shifted my car into park and turned off the engine.  I think I glanced behind me and registered that the pickup was attached to my car.  I’m not sure of the order immediately after that.  At some point, the pickup driver came up to the trio of cars stuck together and called out, asking if everybody was OK.  I remember turning the engine back on, so I could lower my window and respond – it hadn’t registered yet that the back window was gone, shattered across the back seat.  I texted my co-worker to let her know I’d been rear-ended and would be late, called and left my boss a voicemail (as it turns out, he was behind me in traffic – he passed after the accident, but didn’t recognize my car because “the truck was still on [my] trunk”), then called my mother-in-law a couple minutes before my daughter left for school.  This is, as it turns out, a way to panic your child; by the time I next looked at my phone, I had a text message asking for details.  I declined the offer of a ride from my mother-in-law, since I had no clue what the process or timing would be, saying I’d call back later if I needed one.

That done, and with my front doors wedged against two other cars, I used my phone to take photos – of the pickup sitting on my trunk, and of the two cars I was wedged between.  At some point, the pickup driver told me he was going to try backing up off my trunk, so I made sure my foot was solidly on the brake again, just in case.  Once that was done, I sat waiting until emergency personnel came through checking on everybody.  When asked if I was OK, I said I was, but was feeling a bit trapped.  (I’m not claustrophobic, I just don’t like sitting idle.)  Traffic had been passing in the left lane and on the shoulder; the firefighters closed off the shoulder so the accident vehicles could gradually move into that space.

Once the cars in front of me had moved, I turned the engine on again and eased over to the shoulder, and finally got out of the car.  I walked around to the trunk, checked my work laptop (survived!), and took a couple photos.  I sent a photo of my trunk to my co-workers and my daughter, and posted it to Facebook.  And then I began the arduous task of gathering everything in the car into reusable shopping bags from the trunk before the tow truck picked up my poor car.  I did fairly well – I missed my sunglasses and a chocolate in a back door pocket, and the tow truck driver later reminded me to grab my iPass.  It was about an hour after the accident when I finally sat down in the tow truck; it was almost another hour before the police officer finished writing up the report with the details on all six cars involved.

I received the first copy of the accident report and permission to leave the scene, so I rode to the tow yard and called my insurance from their entry hall.  If you’ve never had to do this, it is a tedious process, as the insurance needs all of the details from the accident report – details on all of the drivers and vehicles.  Once that was done, we moved to the next step of arranging a rental vehicle through the insurance, and having the rental company pick me up from the tow yard.  I ended up driving a lovely Kia minivan for most of a week.

I’d love to say that I then went about my day as normal.  I did go to work, but only for a couple hours, as several coworkers were urging me to go to Immediate Care, particularly once a bruise started appearing on the bridge of my nose.  As it turns out, I had a mild concussion and was told to take a few days off of work… and in no uncertain terms, not to participate in the black belt test three days later.

Thankful

This has been a whirlwind years, with plenty of ups and downs to keep things interesting. I am grateful that the ups far outweigh the downs.  Here are some of the things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving:
  • The Oregonian Cookbook my grandmother sent me a few years ago.  It renewed my interest in poached eggs – I ate an egg poached in homemade broccoli tomato soup this morning – and filled my house with the wonderful scent of cranberry streusel to take to our Thanksgiving meal.  (And amused that spellcheck thinks I should replace “streusel” with “stressful”.)
  • Diane and Arwen on the cat tree
    Diane looking up at Arwen without hissing or growling.

    I’m delighted by the kitten we adopted earlier this week, it’s probably not what my parents expected me to spend my holiday money on…

  • and relieved that Arwen’s introduction into the house has been mostly painless.  Well, at least among the cats… I have scratches that prove there’s a kitten in the house.
  • I am immensely grateful for coffee, since kittens don’t seem to sleep through the entire night.
  • The lovely sounds of Peter Hollens’s Christmas album that I listened to while cooking, and that Cassandra (mostly) has good taste in music.
  • That I have friends and family who appreciate my sense of humor, which explains why I included a note about Dobby when I mailed a sock back to a friend.

I hope everybody had a fabulous Thanksgiving!

The Little Things

It doesn’t happen often, but I ran out of spoons today.  After arriving home, I realized that my energy levels were too low and my aches from the accident were too many to go back out, and I rescheduled my dentist appointment.  It’s not a huge deal, they were accommodating about it, it’s just not something I would usually do.

I’ve spent a lot of the last week and a half, since the accident, thinking about little things, some good, some bad… the fact that my blog just deleted the whole list is on the bad side.

  • I have amazing friends, family, and co-workers who have been entirely supportive throughout this accident mess.
  • My work laptop, which was in my trunk, survived the accident, even though my trunk did not.
  • Lego C3-PO, on my keychain, lost a leg.  This is amazingly appropriate.  (Lego Darth Maul survived intact.)
  • My new car is unquestionably the perfect color for me…
  • and is sadly lacking in bumper stickers.  I hope to remedy this soon.
  • Every time I look at the accident photos, I’m amazed that I walked away.
  • At the same time, I’m bummed that I missed my first opportunity at a black belt test.  I did watch it, and I would have tested with an incredible group of candidates.
  • As I was loading the washing machine this evening, I looked out the window and noticed that my maple tree is now convinced that it’s fall.
Beautiful fall colors on my maple tree.
Beautiful fall colors on my maple tree.
  • I miss karate.  Switching from up to 5 times a week to 0 is hard.  I want my elbow and shoulder to heal quickly, so I can get back on the mat.
  • I’m impressed with how efficiently my insurance company has handled their side of things.
  • Did I mention my amazing friends?  Yes?  Well, they’re worth mentioning again.

A sudden change of plans

I was supposed to test for my first degree black belt tonight.  Was.  Unfortunately, a driver who was supposed to be paying attention to the road, and presumably wasn’t, rear-ended me on Tuesday, leaving me in a rental car and with a mild concussion.  Per doctor’s orders, I’ve missed a couple days of work and have to avoid extreme physical activities and contact sports for at least a week.  A black belt test certainly qualifies as both.

But enough whining, there will be another opportunity in the spring to test for my black belt.  I was lucky to walk away from the accident.  And my Camry, Roheryn, has been all about luck, from the moment I won him at a Cubs game in 2012.

My Camry, Roheryn, on his first and last days with me.
Roheryn, on his first and last days.

I entered a sweepstakes through the local Toyota dealership, winning a pair of tickets to a Cubs game and a spot as a finalist to win a Toyota Camry.  On the day of the game, one of the finalists didn’t show up, bring my changes of winning to 1 in 5.  We were each given a baseball with a number on it, and most of us had the player who was drawing the winning ball sign that one.  Then he reached into a bag and picked one of the five balls in there; the number matched mine and happened to be his jersey number.

We took this car on our big road trip in 2013, visiting national monuments and parks on an eleven day drive.  I drove this car to each of the out-of-state regional karate tournaments we’ve gone to, and loaded unseemly amounts of cargo from trips to Menard’s and other stores into the trunk and back seat.

Apparently the good luck was mine.  Everything that’s supposed to happen in a car accident to protect the people inside did – the back window shattered appropriately, two airbags went off (did you know there’s a foot airbag?), and the back and front crumpled up rather than letting the other vehicles injure me.

I hope my next car is lucky too.  Preferably without an accident.