Racism in Martial Arts

As a black male, black people are often accused of taking things out of context, that racism doesn't exist, and that we are always playing the race card.
I've had similar said to me about anti-Semitism, that we are too sensitive, can't we take a joke and why do we see it everywhere. The race card is also one that comes up funnily enough.

(Speaking of, I don't like BLM either. I think their chimpanzee-with-guns attitude and violent shenanigans border on terrorist level.)

Not sure you know what the BLM is, if you don't come from the USA it's very hard to know from the little news we get about it.
 
Neither. What kind of class are you attending where people chat in the corner? Is this a social gathering. Some schools I attend will hit the roof if so much as look at he clock. You are supposed to leave everything that does not pertain to training "outside".

The more important question is: why don't you realize that what you said was incredibly stereotypical, and could be considered insensitive/offensive?
 
On this board, we have discussed transgendered people and LGBT people in martial arts. Now I would like to see what people think about THIS particular issue.

Last Sunday I was at my Wing Chun class. There were four people there total: the Sifu, two other gentlemen, and myself. For those of you who have not seen my previous profile picture, I am a white boy. However, I have daughters who are part black. You will see why I needed to preface the story with that in a moment.

I was doing Chi Sao with the Sifu when I overheard a conversation that the other two gentlemen were having. One man started talking about how he hated the whole "Black Lives Matter" thing, and the other said, "Yeah, I'm sick of those N-words complaining."

I stopped doing Chi Sao immediately and told them I did not appreciate that kind of talk, and it was very offensive to me. They just looked at me funny, then continued doing their practice. Then it dawned on me: "Wow...only 4 people here, and 50% of them said offensive things!"
If you heard it, that means the teacher heard it, too. I hope he took some action (haven't read the entire thread yet).

Since I am the chief instructor in my school, I would take immediate action, which I have had to do exactly once in my career.

There would be an immediate closed door session and the individual(s) involved would be educated to a basic fact: skin color is meaningless. In my school, the only color that matters is the belt you are wearing, period. If you have an issue with that, go down the street and train at Joe's Karate and Pizza. And if I hear of you expressing that opinion in my school one more time, you WILL go down the street to Joe's because you won't be training here any more.

We're all human. We all want the best for our families. We all bleed red when we are injured. I personally am sick and frickin' tired of people making an issue of skin color, in any direction. It's a dumbshit thing to do, whether it's whites talking about blacks, blacks talking about whites, or greens talking about blues.

Pardon my French. I'll get off my soapbox now.
5157.gif
 
If you heard it, that means the teacher heard it, too. I hope he took some action (haven't read the entire thread yet).

Since I am the chief instructor in my school, I would take immediate action, which I have had to do exactly once in my career.

There would be an immediate closed door session and the individual(s) involved would be educated to a basic fact: skin color is meaningless. In my school, the only color that matters is the belt you are wearing, period. If you have an issue with that, go down the street and train at Joe's Karate and Pizza. And if I hear of you expressing that opinion in my school one more time, you WILL go down the street to Joe's because you won't be training here any more.

We're all human. We all want the best for our families. We all bleed red when we are injured. I personally am sick and frickin' tired of people making an issue of skin color, in any direction. It's a dumbshit thing to do, whether it's whites talking about blacks, blacks talking about whites, or greens talking about blues.

Pardon my French. I'll get off my soapbox now.
5157.gif

This group is a little different than your average school. There were 3 gentlemen there other than me. One of them is the guy I call "Sifu." The other two guys learned from the same teacher as him, so they are not really his students; they are more like his brothers. Also, this is not an official class; it was a gathering on a college campus.

I do agree with what you say though. In fact, I may start a different message on this thread with an example I had from when I was younger, something that made me realize the truth about people.
 
Many people don't understand racism, they know how it is on paper but fail to see it in when it happens in real life. I was volunteered to help someone move yesterday, yeah someone else (my gf) basically told her friends I will help them move.

So I am told they only have a couple of things that are heavy they need help with, which was a lie. They had so much crap that what was expected to take a couple hours took the entire day. So near the end of the move when we are almost done I am shown a funny picture of Ivanka trump in a dress that looks it's made of tin foil and in the next panel there is a burrito wrapped in tin foil. The picture had a caption of who wore it better?

So we laughed about it and my gf said it's funny because she hates Mexicans. I said no, I don't think she does. Then her friend's husband chimed and said "I myself am beginning to start hating Mexicans because where I work they tend to be the stupidest ones." He then went on to imitate them in a very stereotyped Mexican accent and I'm sitting here like. "Oh you motherfucker. Here I am giving my entire day to help you move your **** into your apartment and you go and do that? Hell no." I said nothing, I didn't want to make things more akward then they were already made. I told my gf that he really pissed me off with that comment and she acted completely oblivious about it.

I then explained to her why that was offensive and she just didn't get it. She kept saying like "you need to learn to put things behind you." "You can't get angry at everyone because they don't agree with you." I said "you are belittling this. He didn't say something about something trivial like my clothing or my favorite type of my music. No he insulted my ethnic background! She then said "he didn't mean it that way."

I love when people use that phrase. "I don't mean it that way." Well gee how the hell did you mean it then? Because from where I am standing it sounds like you very well meant what you said. We got invited to eat dinner with them a few days from now and I turned it down.

She is upset but I made it very clear that I am tired of having to deal with her stupid friends who always say stupid things. It's bad enough her family isn't all that amazing either, and they are people are already have to tolerate on holidays.

And I am very tired of white people (usually the person who said it, or related to the person who did it.) telling me what is and what isn't racism. I been dealing with racism since I was a little kid thank you very much so I think I know racism when I experience it. I am not some dumbass who goes around mistaking everything that happens to me as something else. I don't need them to hold my hand and tell me what is and what isn't when I am capable of doing it on my own.

Sorry if this seemed unrelated as it is about racism in martial arts, but I felt the direction that the thread has taken made it more relevant. If I was wrong I again apologize.
 
What about ethnic jokes? Are they just racist and wrong? Or does it depend on context and audience?

Obviously no place for them in a dojo. But what about anywhere else?
 
Many people don't understand racism, they know how it is on paper but fail to see it in when it happens in real life. I was volunteered to help someone move yesterday, yeah someone else (my gf) basically told her friends I will help them move.

So I am told they only have a couple of things that are heavy they need help with, which was a lie. They had so much crap that what was expected to take a couple hours took the entire day. So near the end of the move when we are almost done I am shown a funny picture of Ivanka trump in a dress that looks it's made of tin foil and in the next panel there is a burrito wrapped in tin foil. The picture had a caption of who wore it better?

So we laughed about it and my gf said it's funny because she hates Mexicans. I said no, I don't think she does. Then her friend's husband chimed and said "I myself am beginning to start hating Mexicans because where I work they tend to be the stupidest ones." He then went on to imitate them in a very stereotyped Mexican accent and I'm sitting here like. "Oh you motherfucker. Here I am giving my entire day to help you move your **** into your apartment and you go and do that? Hell no." I said nothing, I didn't want to make things more akward then they were already made. I told my gf that he really pissed me off with that comment and she acted completely oblivious about it.

I then explained to her why that was offensive and she just didn't get it. She kept saying like "you need to learn to put things behind you." "You can't get angry at everyone because they don't agree with you." I said "you are belittling this. He didn't say something about something trivial like my clothing or my favorite type of my music. No he insulted my ethnic background! She then said "he didn't mean it that way."

I love when people use that phrase. "I don't mean it that way." Well gee how the hell did you mean it then? Because from where I am standing it sounds like you very well meant what you said. We got invited to eat dinner with them a few days from now and I turned it down.

She is upset but I made it very clear that I am tired of having to deal with her stupid friends who always say stupid things. It's bad enough her family isn't all that amazing either, and they are people are already have to tolerate on holidays.

And I am very tired of white people (usually the person who said it, or related to the person who did it.) telling me what is and what isn't racism. I been dealing with racism since I was a little kid thank you very much so I think I know racism when I experience it. I am not some dumbass who goes around mistaking everything that happens to me as something else. I don't need them to hold my hand and tell me what is and what isn't when I am capable of doing it on my own.

Sorry if this seemed unrelated as it is about racism in martial arts, but I felt the direction that the thread has taken made it more relevant. If I was wrong I again apologize.



Funny you should mention that. Right after the one character said the N word, he quickly added, "I'm not racist or anything!"

Right. I guess you were quoting a Dr. Dre song.
 
Funny you should mention that. Right after the one character said the N word, he quickly added, "I'm not racist or anything!"

Right. I guess you were quoting a Dr. Dre song.

Man out here I hear people say "now I'm not racist or anything but damn (Nwords) really annoy me."

And

I heard this next one the internet so it ain't exactly the same. "We aren't racist, we even had a dirty rotten Jew show up to our rally."
 
I told her that it was a good question, and then changed the subject. J

ust kidding. We talked about it for a bit, and I asked more questions than I answered. Ultimately, after a brief discussion, we decided that it boils down to a few things:

1: it's a gray area. When you talk about race vs ethnicity vs culture, lines blur. There is a difference between being African, Asian or European, and being Japanese, French or Norwegian, but it really isn't all that important when it comes to be a jerk.

2: Ultimately, it's about how the person you're talking to feels about what you're saying and how you say it. If there is a kid from Norway or France or China and you make fun of their accent to them, would they feel bad? If so, it's probably at least being mean. And if you think you're better than that kid because of where he's from, you're being mean and also being bigoted.

Something like that.

When she's older, we can start talking about comedy, social satire and whether or when it's okay to challenge our social/racial/cultural conventions.
 
This is the story I wanted to discuss, which I mention briefly when I quoted Balrog above.

When I was growing up, I had to deal with my stepfather. He was an ******* in many ways, one of them being the racist things he would say. I hate to admit this, but he was in my life during the formative years, so for a while he had an influence on how I looked at other people. Thanks for exposing me to this tool, ma! I am forever in your debt for that!

Anyway, that all changed when I was in my early teens. I was not a popular kid in school, and most of the kids who mocked me were the popular kids. You got it: white kids. So I was alone a lot, and very few people showed any kindness toward me.

In our high school, we had lockers that were down in the lower level, near the cafeteria. It was the kind of location where you would expect to find Freddy Krueger hanging out in the boiler room at the other end of the hall. I decided to pick a locker in this hallway for one simple reason: NO ONE ELSE DID. Therefore I would be alone, with no worries about being picked on by some alpha male jock prick and his neanderthal cronies.

So one day I am sitting at my locker between classes, reading a book and just waiting for next period to start. This black kid comes along. I can still remember how he looked and what he wore: a little bit taller than me...super skinny...baseball cap...BIG glasses...baggy (but not sagging) jeans. I did not look up at him because in my experience, eye contact was an invitation to a bullying session. It would often start out with, "What the F are YOU looking at?"

He started to open his locker. I keep on reading.

He says, "Hey, how's it going?"

I look up. Sure enough, he is looking at me. I mumble "hey" or something to that effect. The interaction has started out friendly enough, but again, basing all of this on past experience, it could be a ruse to get me to let my guard down. He is looking for me to say, "Hi, my name is Steve, and I write poetry!" So he can then go to his friends and mock me for being a sensitive poetry-writing wimp!

He continues. "I've seen you down here before. You're alone a lot, aren't you?"

I find this odd for a couple reasons. First of all, I don't ever remember seeing him; I always seemed to be at my locker alone. Second, he saw me...and remembered me? This was confusing, as I considered myself to be largely forgettable.

He is still rooting through his locker, and I realized I haven't answered his question yet.

So I said, "Yeah, I am."

"You don't have a lot of friends, huh?" he asks.

If I answer this honestly, will that be when the assault begins? I don't know. I decide to be honest anyway.

"No, not really."

The bell goes off. Time to head to class! I stand up, shove the book I was reading into my bookbag, and get ready to leave. Skinny Guy comes over to me as I am shrugging my bookbag on to my shoulders.

To my surprise, he has his hand out.

"Sean," he says.

I reach out and shake his hand, telling him my name. He says it is nice to meet me, and that he will see me around. I stand there in the hallway for a moment, alone and stunned and silent. Slowly but surely, a smile creeps over my face. Of course, for me a smile means there is the slightest hint of upturn at the corners of my mouth, but it is a smile nevertheless. It dawns on me that in less than twenty words, Sean the Black Kid has laid to waste all the ******** that my stepfather spews at home. In less than twenty words, he showed me more kindness than any twenty white kids.

And for those of you who may be wondering...no, I never saw him again, but I'm still grateful.

Thanks, Sean.
 
It's really incredible what the smallest act of kindness can do for someone.

That was when I was 14.

I'm 40 now.

The memory is as clear as if it were yesterday.

As much as we can ALL use that kind of kindness, it has an even more profound effect on people like me, who grew up thinking acts of kindness were as rare as certain kinds of diamonds.
 
I told her that it was a good question, and then changed the subject. J

ust kidding. We talked about it for a bit, and I asked more questions than I answered. Ultimately, after a brief discussion, we decided that it boils down to a few things:

1: it's a gray area. When you talk about race vs ethnicity vs culture, lines blur. There is a difference between being African, Asian or European, and being Japanese, French or Norwegian, but it really isn't all that important when it comes to be a jerk.

2: Ultimately, it's about how the person you're talking to feels about what you're saying and how you say it. If there is a kid from Norway or France or China and you make fun of their accent to them, would they feel bad? If so, it's probably at least being mean. And if you think you're better than that kid because of where he's from, you're being mean and also being bigoted.

Something like that.

When she's older, we can start talking about comedy, social satire and whether or when it's okay to challenge our social/racial/cultural conventions.

She's got a great dad.
 
The more important question is: why don't you realize that what you said was incredibly stereotypical, and could be considered insensitive/offensive?

Yeah but he is not from an American culture. Why should he have an in depth knowledge of what upsets them. Or even care.

There is this idea that America is the cultural benchmark for what is offensive and what isn't.
 
She's got a great dad.
Lol... no such thing. We are all lucky that parenting is pass/fail. Fortunately their mom/my wife is a saint and a genius. Takes the pressure off me.

As an aside, that's my secret to a long and happy marriage. Marry someone smarter than you.
 
The more important question is: why don't you realize that what you said was incredibly stereotypical, and could be considered insensitive/offensive?

Did I miss something? I would kick them out. Race distinction has no place in Martial Arts. Some of the best I have met are colored. One from St Kitts won World Karate Championships twice. A true natural like many others of his race.
 
This is the story I wanted to discuss, which I mention briefly when I quoted Balrog above.

When I was growing up, I had to deal with my stepfather. He was an ******* in many ways, one of them being the racist things he would say. I hate to admit this, but he was in my life during the formative years, so for a while he had an influence on how I looked at other people. Thanks for exposing me to this tool, ma! I am forever in your debt for that!

Anyway, that all changed when I was in my early teens. I was not a popular kid in school, and most of the kids who mocked me were the popular kids. You got it: white kids. So I was alone a lot, and very few people showed any kindness toward me.

In our high school, we had lockers that were down in the lower level, near the cafeteria. It was the kind of location where you would expect to find Freddy Krueger hanging out in the boiler room at the other end of the hall. I decided to pick a locker in this hallway for one simple reason: NO ONE ELSE DID. Therefore I would be alone, with no worries about being picked on by some alpha male jock prick and his neanderthal cronies.

So one day I am sitting at my locker between classes, reading a book and just waiting for next period to start. This black kid comes along. I can still remember how he looked and what he wore: a little bit taller than me...super skinny...baseball cap...BIG glasses...baggy (but not sagging) jeans. I did not look up at him because in my experience, eye contact was an invitation to a bullying session. It would often start out with, "What the F are YOU looking at?"

He started to open his locker. I keep on reading.

He says, "Hey, how's it going?"

I look up. Sure enough, he is looking at me. I mumble "hey" or something to that effect. The interaction has started out friendly enough, but again, basing all of this on past experience, it could be a ruse to get me to let my guard down. He is looking for me to say, "Hi, my name is Steve, and I write poetry!" So he can then go to his friends and mock me for being a sensitive poetry-writing wimp!

He continues. "I've seen you down here before. You're alone a lot, aren't you?"

I find this odd for a couple reasons. First of all, I don't ever remember seeing him; I always seemed to be at my locker alone. Second, he saw me...and remembered me? This was confusing, as I considered myself to be largely forgettable.

He is still rooting through his locker, and I realized I haven't answered his question yet.

So I said, "Yeah, I am."

"You don't have a lot of friends, huh?" he asks.

If I answer this honestly, will that be when the assault begins? I don't know. I decide to be honest anyway.

"No, not really."

The bell goes off. Time to head to class! I stand up, shove the book I was reading into my bookbag, and get ready to leave. Skinny Guy comes over to me as I am shrugging my bookbag on to my shoulders.

To my surprise, he has his hand out.

"Sean," he says.

I reach out and shake his hand, telling him my name. He says it is nice to meet me, and that he will see me around. I stand there in the hallway for a moment, alone and stunned and silent. Slowly but surely, a smile creeps over my face. Of course, for me a smile means there is the slightest hint of upturn at the corners of my mouth, but it is a smile nevertheless. It dawns on me that in less than twenty words, Sean the Black Kid has laid to waste all the ******** that my stepfather spews at home. In less than twenty words, he showed me more kindness than any twenty white kids.

And for those of you who may be wondering...no, I never saw him again, but I'm still grateful.

Thanks, Sean.

So recognizable to me. I hope as the years go forward many of us are like Sean. I have always tried to be, and I always will.

What an absolutely wonderful post. Thanks, much, bro.
 
This is the story I wanted to discuss, which I mention briefly when I quoted Balrog above.

When I was growing up, I had to deal with my stepfather. He was an ******* in many ways, one of them being the racist things he would say. I hate to admit this, but he was in my life during the formative years, so for a while he had an influence on how I looked at other people. Thanks for exposing me to this tool, ma! I am forever in your debt for that!

Anyway, that all changed when I was in my early teens. I was not a popular kid in school, and most of the kids who mocked me were the popular kids. You got it: white kids. So I was alone a lot, and very few people showed any kindness toward me.

In our high school, we had lockers that were down in the lower level, near the cafeteria. It was the kind of location where you would expect to find Freddy Krueger hanging out in the boiler room at the other end of the hall. I decided to pick a locker in this hallway for one simple reason: NO ONE ELSE DID. Therefore I would be alone, with no worries about being picked on by some alpha male jock prick and his neanderthal cronies.

So one day I am sitting at my locker between classes, reading a book and just waiting for next period to start. This black kid comes along. I can still remember how he looked and what he wore: a little bit taller than me...super skinny...baseball cap...BIG glasses...baggy (but not sagging) jeans. I did not look up at him because in my experience, eye contact was an invitation to a bullying session. It would often start out with, "What the F are YOU looking at?"

He started to open his locker. I keep on reading.

He says, "Hey, how's it going?"

I look up. Sure enough, he is looking at me. I mumble "hey" or something to that effect. The interaction has started out friendly enough, but again, basing all of this on past experience, it could be a ruse to get me to let my guard down. He is looking for me to say, "Hi, my name is Steve, and I write poetry!" So he can then go to his friends and mock me for being a sensitive poetry-writing wimp!

He continues. "I've seen you down here before. You're alone a lot, aren't you?"

I find this odd for a couple reasons. First of all, I don't ever remember seeing him; I always seemed to be at my locker alone. Second, he saw me...and remembered me? This was confusing, as I considered myself to be largely forgettable.

He is still rooting through his locker, and I realized I haven't answered his question yet.

So I said, "Yeah, I am."

"You don't have a lot of friends, huh?" he asks.

If I answer this honestly, will that be when the assault begins? I don't know. I decide to be honest anyway.

"No, not really."

The bell goes off. Time to head to class! I stand up, shove the book I was reading into my bookbag, and get ready to leave. Skinny Guy comes over to me as I am shrugging my bookbag on to my shoulders.

To my surprise, he has his hand out.

"Sean," he says.

I reach out and shake his hand, telling him my name. He says it is nice to meet me, and that he will see me around. I stand there in the hallway for a moment, alone and stunned and silent. Slowly but surely, a smile creeps over my face. Of course, for me a smile means there is the slightest hint of upturn at the corners of my mouth, but it is a smile nevertheless. It dawns on me that in less than twenty words, Sean the Black Kid has laid to waste all the ******** that my stepfather spews at home. In less than twenty words, he showed me more kindness than any twenty white kids.

And for those of you who may be wondering...no, I never saw him again, but I'm still grateful.

Thanks, Sean.
I grew up around a lot of racists (KKK member next door, for starters), though fortunately none in the house. There was a deep racial divide at my Jr. High and High schools, but like you I wasn't "in" (and was very shy). So I found it easier to cross that divide and get to know some of the black kids than to deal with the popular kids (many of whom were pretty nice, too, once I got past the bullies). I had a couple of black (color matters in this case) friends in drama class. When they saw me in the halls, they'd do a stereotypical "white guy voice" and call out, "Get out of the hall, n*****!" I'd do my best stereotypical "black guy from the hood voice" and say back, "You betta shut up, honky! I'll cut you!" Happened at least once a week. We never got tired of it. I think it was our way of fighting the stereotypes. Oddly, it never seemed to bother anyone else.
 

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