06/01/2026
"You Should Move Your Dojo to the Bigger City"
I have heard some version of that advice for nearly my entire teaching career.
"Sensei, you should move your dojo to the bigger city. You'd be much better off."
People from larger cities around my dojos have been telling me that for years, often because they wanted to train with us themselves.
When I first opened my dojo in 1991, I chose Hicksville, Ohio of all places. It was a very small rural town with a population of around 1,200 people. I was constantly told that I would never have more than ten students. To the surprise of many, our enrollment eventually exceeded fifty students, with an average of around thirty-five for many years.
In 2001, a career opportunity required me to move my dojo to Bryan, Ohio, another rural community with a population of roughly 8,200 people. Although teaching was not my primary focus during that period, I still maintained around twenty-five students. Then, in 2004, I rented a small building and began focusing on teaching full-time once again.
I had also begun a program at the YMCA in Auburn, Indiana in 1998 with the help of two of my black belts. While Auburn is a bit larger than Bryan, it is still a rural town with a population of around 14,000 people. That dojo location is still operating there as well.
Over the years, teaching in small rural towns meant facing many challenges. Students come and go, and there were times when keeping the dojo going was not easy. Throughout those years, I was repeatedly told that I should relocate to a larger city such as Fort Wayne.
At one point, I even had a student from Fort Wayne offer to finance the move. He offered to pay the first year's rent on a building in a good location because he believed I could easily build one of the best schools in the area. While I deeply appreciated his confidence in our program, I thanked him and politely declined.
The reason was simple.
I grew up training in small towns.
My first martial arts experiences were in Angola, Indiana. Later, I trained for about four years in the tiny town of Edgerton, Ohio. Eventually, I found myself in Auburn, Indiana, where I earned my Shodan, assisted in teaching classes, and ultimately ran the school before branching out on my own.
Small-town dojos are what I know.
More importantly, they are what I love.
There is something special about teaching in a small town that I simply would not trade, even if moving to a larger city made better financial sense. Small communities possess a unique character. People know each other. Relationships matter. Reputation matters.
The students I trained years ago are now bringing their own children into my dojo. To me, that says more about the value of what we have built than any enrollment number ever could.
Our dojo culture has become something special over the years. Students help one another improve. Families support one another. Friendships are formed both inside and outside the dojo. Between both locations, I have around eighty students, and honestly, that feels like the perfect number.
There is a closeness within our dojo walls that I have rarely seen in larger schools. Students do not simply train together. They become part of a community. I regularly run into current and former students throughout town. Many stop by the dojo just to say hello, catch up, and see what improvements have been made since their last visit. Since anyone who knows me knows that I am always working on something around the dojo, there is usually something new to talk about.
Teaching in these rural communities has also taught me a great deal about myself. Watching students grow over the course of years, and sometimes decades, has shaped my own character in ways I never expected. Being part of a smaller community means I get to support my students' businesses, celebrate their successes, and remain connected to them beyond the dojo floor. That means far more to me than any financial gain ever could.
Could I have more students in a larger city? Probably.
Could I make more money? Very likely.
But that was never what drove me to teach Karate.
My goal has always been to teach those who come to learn, make sure there is enough in the till to pay the bills, and pass on Karate in a way that remains true to the values I was taught. I have always believed that preserving the integrity of the art is more important than maximizing profits.
Had I moved to a larger city, perhaps I would have built a bigger school. Perhaps I would have had more students. But I am not convinced I would have built a better school.
In the end, success is not measured by how many students walk through the door. It is measured by the quality of what they learn, the character they develop, and the culture that surrounds them.
It is not about having the biggest school.
It is about having a great school.
It is not about the vehicle I drive, the house I live in, or the things I can afford. It is about maintaining the integrity of an art that I have been given the responsibility to pass on to future generations.
And perhaps most importantly, it is about helping people grow...not only as martial artists, but as human beings.
Looking back, I honestly do not believe I would have been happier had I moved my dojo to a larger city.
I am completely content doing what I do, teaching what I teach, and watching each and every student grow through their martial arts journey...and through life itself.
- Franz Kyoshi
