Testing

Tomorrow morning I will line up with a bunch of white-clad kids half my size and demonstrate what I've been practicing in tae kwon do for the last three months:

• Kicks (Doubles. Very tricky for me. My legs flail and I feel like an idiot. But I feel like an idiot with every new kick I do, and I think it's good for me. More on that later.)
• Kicking combination (Doubles, Ax Kick, Runner. DAR. I amuse myself by calling it the Daughters of the American Revolution Kicking Combination, the only other DAR acronym I've heard of. It's hard for me to remember which kicking combos go with which belt, so any little mnemonic tricks help).
• Form: (Tae Guk Sam Jong. One I should have practiced more. It's not as crisp as my last one. Which, um, I don't remember too well. To do tomorrow before testing: review old form!)
• Self-defense (Two types: traditional and grab. Traditional I still feel silly with. But the grab is fun! I like learning the joint manipulation so I can take someone down. Sadly, if anyone actually attacked me, I think I might need to ask them to grab my arm in just the right way so I could use my techniques. Working towards real-life applicability (may I never have to use it!).
  
• Technique (Knife hand strike, back stance, grab, front stance. I think it's the hardest technique so far.)
  
• Board breaking. (We practiced this with plastic ones, and I surprised myself by actually breaking one. I am still nervous about the real boards though.)
• Terminology. (So we have a Korean woman in our class, and I really want to get her to pronounce all our words for us. Because I'm pretty sure my Korean would be unrecognizable in Korea. it makes me feel all authentic to learn them, though.)
  

One thing I find interesting about tae kwon do, and the testing process, is the pattern of humility and achievement. With each new belt, I learn new techniques and kicks and forms, and it's humbling, sometimes even humiliating. I swear no one on the planet has ever had more goofy looking doubles kicks than me. But by the time three months have passed, I've become more confident, enough that I can stand up with all those little kids and demonstrate ... skill growth, if not skill mastery.

No one gives gold stars to grownups. I don't get special treatment for clean toilets or folded laundry. But tae kwon do makes me feel like a kid again, in hard but good ways: I'm subjected, yes, to the humbling experience of learning new things outside my comfort zone, but I'm also rewarded with tangible acknowledgment that I've grown. Gold star? Not anymore. But next week I will get my green belt.