08/06/2026
I guess, at the heart of it, I am a builder.
I have never measured my worth through medals. That is not why I compete.
I compete because I will not ask my students to step onto a competition floor and risk winning or losing if I am unwilling to do the same. They have watched me win, and they have watched me lose. I have stood beside them and watched them experience both.
That shared experience allows me to coach from understanding instead of theory.
Competition also gives me an opportunity to carry Sensei Yamash*ta’s name and teachings into places where they deserve to be seen again. But this is not only about honoring one instructor.
It is about honoring every instructor who has ever invested in me.
Some taught me technique. Some taught me discipline. Some challenged me. Some encouraged me. Some showed me what strong leadership looks like, while others taught me through the kind of leader I never wanted to become.
Every one of them helped shape the martial artist, instructor, and person I am today.
The greatest way I can honor them is not by hanging another medal on the wall or adding another title beside my name. It is by taking what they gave me, preserving what deserves to be preserved, improving what can be improved, and passing it forward.
That is what Suibukan represents to me.
We returned home from the WUKF World Championships on Tuesday, July 28. Three days later, Jenica, four of our students, and I were back on the floor training with Sensei Yamash*ta. The following day, Jenica and those four students competed at the U.S. Capitol Classics.
Then on Monday, Jenica underwent another major surgery and had her reconstruction completely redone.
Right now, she is home recovering.
The competitor people saw on the floor Saturday is now beginning the recovery process all over again. She is dealing with pain, limited movement, exhaustion, and the frustration of having to slow down after fighting so hard to return.
That kind of contrast changes your perspective.
Jenica’s journey has always been one of rebuilding.
She earned her first black belt in 1996, but stepped away from martial arts around 1998. For more than twenty years, karate was no longer part of her daily life.
When she began training with me in 2019, she did not simply return and rely on the rank she had earned years earlier. She became a student again in a completely different system of karate.
She learned new kata, new principles, a new lineage, and a new way of moving. She allowed herself to be corrected, challenged, and rebuilt.
Since then, I have watched her grow from someone returning after decades away into an instructor, national-level competitor, and World Championship medalist.
Now I am watching her rebuild again—physically and emotionally—as she recovers from another major surgery.
Her story reminds me that being a builder is not only about building other people.
Sometimes it means creating a place where someone feels safe enough to rebuild themselves.
At the same time, my responsibilities as Director of Apprenticeship and Training have taken me away from my own training and from the dojo more than I would like to admit.
Tonight, work has me away again, and my black belts are covering classes.
That is difficult for me.
But perhaps it also shows that the work is succeeding.
I was never supposed to build a dojo that could function only when I was standing at the front of the room.
I was supposed to build leaders.
While I am helping Jenica recover and handling the responsibilities of my job, the people we have trained are stepping forward. They are teaching, leading, protecting our standards, and keeping the dojo moving.
That is not me stepping away.
That is the result of years spent building something stronger than one person.
We are also preparing for Suibukan Summer Camp on August 14, 15, and 16.
Then on November 7, Sensei Yamash*ta will return to Suibukan, and two more of our students will test for black belt.
That means far more to me than adding two names to a rank list.
It represents students who stayed the course.
It represents black belts becoming instructors, competitors becoming leaders, and another generation accepting responsibility for what has been entrusted to us.
My journey has shifted.
Not because I no longer have goals of my own. I still intend to train, compete, teach, and continue growing.
But I understand more clearly now that my greatest work may not be what I accomplish personally.
It may be what I build in others.
A wife who continues rebuilding herself through challenges few people fully see.
Students willing to win, lose, learn, and return.
Black belts capable of carrying the dojo when life pulls me somewhere else.
And a place where the lessons of every instructor who helped shape me will continue long after any tournament, title, or medal is forgotten.
I am still a student. I am still a competitor. I am still a Sensei.
But more than anything, I think I am a builder. 🥋💙
