05/09/2026
Back when I trained, I didn’t have the money for lessons. Sensei let me pay in other ways—teaching the under belts, always showing up, and being the punch dummy. Truth is, he still gave me far more than I ever gave him.
Every night, techniques drilled on me over and over in front of class. “What if?” after “what if?” Everybody had their own relationship with Kenpo, but mine was raw and direct. Pure Kenpo. I had the privilege of a 5th Dan pouring his art into me—the principles, the movement, the expression of it all through a big man who could move like lightning.
When I stepped on the floor, people knew the name, knew the motion. I knew the experience. I didn’t always know what a technique was called, but once I understood what it was against, I knew it for life. I may not have explained it with fancy words, but I could sure show you.
And when someone’s eyes lit up after they felt it—that moment they understood—I knew they’d gotten a taste of Kenpo. It wasn’t me they were feeling. It was years spent surviving Sensei’s gauntlet.
Old photo 1st ever seminar with Grandmaster Al Tracy. 04 I think.
Sensei Jeremy Zinsky with Shotokan master Joe Sandoval
