Last night in class we began with a familiar set of basic punches. When the class is asked to step out to the left with a left hand punch, we are supposed to kiap (yell). As the thirty of us, including at least eight adults, stepped out to begin our first punch the room was silent except for the tiniest voice, a barely audible, “Hutt.”
Back when Todd and I were trying to get Jonathan interested in martial arts we visited a Karate studio in Bethesda. To enter the studio you had to walk down a flight of stairs from the street to get to the front door. Half way down we all heard the sounds of the kiaps coming from the dojo below and Jonathan (five years old at the time) turned around and ran back up the stairs, refusing to go in. The sounds scared him. Today, if you heard my son kiap at the start of a sparring round, you would wonder who he is trying to scare. Kids love to yell and scream. They don’t really have any problem with it most of the time. In most of the moments of their day they are being asked (told) not to scream, or make any loud noises for that matter. They are taught it is rude, obnoxious, bad manners, etc… By the time we are adults, well, can you remember the last time it was okay to yell or scream? (Not at your dog, spouse, children or because you stubbed your toe).
In taekwondo you are supposed to yell (there are certain movements that call for it). And there are reasons to practice it.
A kiap can: help you fight your own fear, increase your power during a kick or punch, frighten an opponent, and help to make you less susceptible to an injury.
Back in January a group of us gathered for a black belt celebration. Many of my TKD colleagues helped me put on a demonstration for my friends and family who had not seen it up close and personal before. Master Lee started us off in that same left hand punch and the sound of the collective kiap that echoed through the room vibrated inside of me! I had goosebumps from it. THAT is what it is supposed to sound and feel like. I would imagine that if any of the spectators were a little tired in that moment, that the energy of that sound woke them up and had them paying close attention.
I am going to work on my kiap in class, try to not be so afraid to make noise, to be the only one making the noise at first. Sometimes all it takes is one voice to help everyone else.
COMMENTS
I am so looking forward to the day you tell me that you did just that. You let out the loudest, fiercest kiaps the class has ever heard, and you start a wonderful tradition! Do it for all of us — for all those that have a giant KIAP inside and want to let it out!!
Best is when it just flows, and you realize at some point well into the drill that you’re making noises that are generally unacceptable outside the dojang!
sometimes all is takes is one voice to help everyone else and this is what you keep on doing in your life and you have done it and do it again,so thank you for who you are…
