Family Aspect in Martial Arts

Recently, I saw a poll put up asking “How many people consider their dojo and the people they train with as a family?”. I answered ‘Yes’ in almost a heartbeat; as a person who never fit in with my blood relatives, I’ve found so much unconditional love and support from my karate family, I truly do feel a strong bond with them. ‘Karate family’ is a common term I found used often in the karate association I belong to, but I was never sure if other styles felt this same familial phenomenon, and to what extent. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that almost everybody who commented on the poll shared the same experience; everyone also had their own ‘Karate Family’s.

This is something very unique to martial arts. Why is that? How come most people you speak to that have been doing martial arts for years all have stories of instructors who were like parents to them? In certain branches of Arnis, it’s in their curriculum that they refer to their training partners as brother/sister. Why are martial artists so bonded to one another? I believe there are a couple of common reasons.

First, martial arts are built on respect. Most traditional martial arts schools will have a standard respect protocol you need to follow; saying yes sir/ma’am, bowing to higher ranks, referring to your instructor as master, and many other etiquettes that are unique to style. This isn’t necessarily unique, as we see this aspect somewhat emulated in organized sports, such as respecting the coaches and having good sportsmanship towards opposing teams. However, the difference is that in sports these elements of respect are encouraged, rather than a foundation of the activity. If you don’t have respect in a martial arts school, you will not make it far in your journey before you’re either too frustrated or asked to leave. I think that this element of respect is definitely a supporting characteristic, but there has to be more.

I began to think, what is something starkly unique about martial arts? What contrasts it from other activities at the core? We punch, kick, and train to protect ourselves. We are taught techniques to defend ourselves against somebody who has the worst intentions for you. We are quite literally instructed to practice controlled yet still deadly skills on our training partners, and no matter who you are, it’s a very humbling experience. You have to let your partner execute the technique so they can learn, and you have to trust that they won’t actually hurt you, and even trust yourself that you will stay calm. It’s a working, dangerous relationship you have with your partner, that’s fostered by learning and ultimately getting to know your body in a way that is very unique. In doing this, overtime you start to develop a different kind of bond with your peers; you’re all there to learn how to deal face-to-face with danger, so you grow a special kind of trust with everyone helping you get there. You’re all looking out for each other’s safety, as well as understanding it’s up to you to push each other in training so if the situation ever presents itself, you’re ready to defend your life.

Forcing us to practice outside of our comfort zone and becoming a bit more comfortable with fear together, I believe fosters a unique sense of trust and respect with the dojo. You’re able to appreciate what the human body can do, and the atmosphere provides a supportive and positive learning environment. 

What do you think? Do you consider your dojo and training partners as a family?