Shotokan: A Way of Life
Elizabeth D Kaufman (Stony Brook University)
“What, are you too afraid to look at me or something?” That was the question she posed as the others
once again ganged up to watch. I never knew why I couldn’t. It was just a fact. I couldn’t look people in the
eye. Then, she hit me. Every day of elementary school was the same.

I never knew for sure, until recently, why I just couldn’t fit in as a child. The other kids dubbed me the
class freak. I played alone. I couldn’t make friends. I didn’t understand jokes and I just didn’t “get” what
other people were talking about. I could hear things the other kids couldn’t. Not voices- things like light
bulbs and television sets buzzing, along with high pitched tones. That drove me nuts. More than anything
else, it drove me crazy how I couldn’t look most people in the eye.

The school, during my early years in the education system, thought I might be a little “slow.” After
getting past the second grade, however, they changed their mind and decided I was very intelligent. No
matter how smart they felt I was and no matter how many awards I received or what talents I had, the other
children wanted nothing to do with me.

Years inevitably passed and, while my peers opinions of me weren’t as big an issue, I still felt
misplaced and bullied. Pokémon became a means of escape from the world I seemed to be bound to.

Arriving in America, in 1998, Pokémon, a Japanese cartoon, card gaming and video gaming series, took the
country by storm. Cards, toys, a television show and a plethora of accessories stocked toy stores. Drawn to
the animation, distinct from American cartoons, I was curious about the mannerisms of the characters, but
most of all by bowing.

I saved money from working around the neighborhood and earned enough to buy the cards, a game
boy and a Pokémon game. The main character, Ash, didn’t fit in with the others, but had the same goals. It
just took him longer to reach them. This was a prominent theme in many other anime (Japanese Animation)
shows that I have come to watch. The more I watched anime, the more I felt connected with characters that
were just as clumsy and out of place as I was. More than that, however, anime I watched sparked my
curiosity about other aspects of Japanese culture.

Everything from food to manners intrigued me. How the Japanese could live in such tiny apartments
in order to share space with others was difficult for me to grasp, looking around me in America. It baffled
me (and still does) that Americans complain if they touch other people on public transportation or if they
cannot sit, and how we bump into others upon exit, not apologizing, while the Japanese shout “sumimasen
(sorry!)!” and bow as they wiggle their way out of an over packed train car. I couldn’t get enough
information. I suppose that my thirst for knowledge inspired me to take up the martial arts. Partly because of the
desire to defend myself against the bullies I faced and partly because of its mystery. Movies like The Karate
Kid promoted martial arts as a means of turning one’s life around. Also, the moves were “cool.” But above
all, bowing still intrigued me. I couldn’t figure out why people bowed to one another or what the true
history of it was. I decided I wanted to learn for myself.

It was a hot Las Vegas afternoon when I stepped foot into what would become my dojo. The windows
facing west, I was blinded by the setting desert sun. When my vision was restored, I found myself in a very
simple, open setting. Immediate to the entrance were chairs, couches, a coffee table with some Shotokan
magazines and pamphlets written in the mysterious characters I knew to be of the Japanese language.

Bamboo plants were nestled between the L-shaped couches. Black furniture made of wood and white
surroundings set the tone. Traditional Japanese lantern-shaped light fixtures enveloped the area as the sun
sunk lower. It was peaceful.

For a moment, I lost myself. It was refreshing listening to the trickling of the small fountain next to
the tall bamboo plant that I missed upon entering. The door jingled as it was opened and the students began
to arrive. Sensei appeared from the back and introduced himself with a bow. Clumsily, I bowed back.

40