Switching Martial Arts Styles: Do You Really Have to Start Over?
While browsing reddit, I came across a user who said they were a member of the Ki Society for ten years but had recently moved to an area without any dojos within commuting distance. They asked whether it would be possible to transition to Aikikai, which does have local dojos, without having to start over from scratch.
I’ve heard similar questions many times. Someone has been training for a while in one style of martial arts and wants to train in a different style, and to be recognized in the new style at the same rank they are in the previous style. I get it. The thinking seems to be, you’ve invested a lot of time in a style and you want to be recognized for that. It feels like you’ve wasted your time if you have to go back to beginner status in a martial art that is similar to the one you’ve been training in.
I have to ask: why are you training?
Are you training to acquire rank and status in an obscure martial arts organization? (Let’s be honest, most martial arts organizations are obscure in the world we live in. Outside their own members, few people even know they exist.)
Or are you training to master yourself and a martial art?
The fact that this question is being asked suggests that said person is training to acquire rank and status, which I will admit are important to a lot of people for a lot of reasons. I just don’t think they are of much real value or relevancy to the practice of any form of budo.
We train for many reasons: to become stronger, to defend ourselves, to become better fighters, to be physically respected, to improve ourselves as human beings, to master deeper principles that are taught through training, and sometimes just for the joy of it.
Sometimes this is simply stated as: “I want to get a black belt.” Which often stands in for: I want to be stronger, a better fighter, and be physically respected.
Clearly the questioner likes training. The problem here is that they are very attached to the rank and status they have achieved in the Ki Society, and they are confusing the symbols of achievement for the real achievements, which are the skills and growth they have acquired through training. I’m sure the Aikikai would not consider giving them equivalent rank, simply because the syllabi are not equivalent. Their skills, though, would not disappear just because they are training in an Aikikai dojo rather than a Ki Society dojo. They would still have their physical and technical mastery regardless of the color belt they are wearing—and if that isn’t respected by the new group members, I doubt it would be a place you want to train at anyway.
Looking at the question from a slightly different angle, after 10 years of regular practice, your understanding and mastery of the Ki Society syllabus should be pretty solid. Training with the Aikikai is a great chance to see the art from a slightly different perspective, and perhaps work on aspects of Aikido that haven’t been emphasized in the current dojo. The Aikikai and the Ki Society have differing pedagogies, but ikkyo, nikyo sankyo, yonkyo, iriminage, and shihonage are the same techniques in both organizations. They simply use different methods to teach them.
The only thing you have to lose by training in a different dojo is your attachment to your rank. In exchange you gain new perspectives on your art, new training partners, and new opportunities to grow.
This is an instance where ranks and their acquisition is definitely a negative influence on budo training. If we didn’t have all of these ranks, it would be easy to go into a new dojo and be a beginner there. We wouldn’t be “giving up” any rank or status. After all, it takes time and effort to achieve any rank in budo, and Rank Hath Its Privileges. Who wants to just give up anything we’ve worked so hard to achieve.
Each organization has their own requirements for their ranks, and to be recognized as a 1st dan in Iaido in the International Kendo Federation has nothing whatsoever to do with being recognized as a 1st dan in the All Japan Iaido Federation. Their test requirements are different. They require demonstrated skill in different kata. If I were to go into an Iaido Federation dojo, I would go straight to the lowest rank in the room. Sure, I know something about Kendo Federation Iai. I’ve managed to get to 5th dan in the Kendo Federation Iai system. I know nothing of the Iaido Federation’s Iai system though. I don’t even know the kata they use for training and testing. How could I expect to be recognized as a 5th dan by the Iaido Federation when I don’t even know the basics of their kata?
The same is true moving between Aikido federations, or Karatedo federations, or moving from one koryu to another. Just because I have a shihan certificate in one koryu doesn’t mean I should expect any sort of recognition if I go to another koryu art to train. When I go into a dojo where another ryuha is practiced, I don’t talk about my Shinto Hatakage Ryu experience, and no one asks about it. It’s not germane to what we are training.
All of that doesn’t mean that my Shinto Hatakage Ryu training is worthless when I train in Shinto Muso Ryu, or that having lots of experience in Ki Society will be meaningless when someone goes to train in an Aikikai dojo. It just means you’ll sit a little further down the line in one dojo than in another. My Shinto Hatakage Ryu training has taught me a great deal of universally useful stuff about movement, controlling my body, handling weapons, and how to be respectful in the dojo.
I think the whole modern rank system developed by Kano Jigoro Shihan is a mistake, in part because people’s attachment to it gets in the way of their training and growth as martial artists. A huge amount of time is wasted worrying about “keeping my rank” when people have to make the choice between quitting and being beginners in a related style. Cross training is great for improving our understanding of budo. I remember the great Aikido-L Aikido Seminars, and watching senior Ki Society teachers swapping techniques and training tips with Aikikai teachers and folks from dojos that aren’t affiliated with anyone but themselves. No one cared who was a 6th dan or a 1st dan or even asked about rank. The question being asked in every instance was, “What can I learn from this person?”
No one there had any delusions of having all the answers. Budo is infinite. It’s a gem with an infinite number of facets. We will never have a complete understanding of it. We do the best we can, and the more people we learn from, the more facets of the gem we can learn to see. I love training with people who have different experiences from mine. In the group I train with, we have people from a wide variety of styles: Shinto Muso Ryu, Shinto Hatakage Ryu, Tamiya Ryu, Tendo Ryu, Mugai Ryu, Kodokan Judo, Aikikai Aikido, Kendo, Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu, Muso Shinden Ryu, and those are just ones I am aware of. The only question that comes up is, “What are we learning?”
All that varied experience means that when we have a discussion about technique or strategy or principle, there is almost always someone bringing novel perspectives to bear on the question. We are all in the dojo to learn together. Most of the time that means we shut up and train. Sometimes it means that we ask each other about the insights our other budo experience gives us into what is happening with our current training.
When you go from one style, system, or organization, you’re never really starting from the beginning. If you are going into a related style, system, or organization, you’ll be bringing a wealth of knowledge and experience with you that will inform and accelerate your new training. Even if you’re going into something that is completely different from your previous training, you will be surprised at how much carries over. Knowledge of fundamental things like spacing, timing, structure, and movement will always be useful.
When you go into a new dojo or start a new style, you’re not starting from the beginning. You’re starting from where you are. The only thing you might have to give up is your attachment to the rank you’ve gotten somewhere else.
Special thanks to Jacques Vorves for editorial support.
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I totally get where you're coming from Sir. I started my MA journey later in life. I was twenty six and had been married for about four years or so. My wife was teaching dance and twirling and tap and gymnastics and....... And you get the idea. I had always watched the martial arts from afar. I was never ever interested in calling somebody "Master" or bowling all the damn time. I'll be brutally honest, at 56, my knees can't take sitting in seiza for more than about negative ten seconds. Even the simple thought hurts so bad at the moment that I'm pretty sure if be known as the "Standing Samurai" in one of my past dojos. But is convinced to start at that ripe old age because they needed students to start the class. The owner said I wouldn't need to pay class fees because my wife was teaching there. I very shortly started paying for my classes to, of if a sheer sense of respect, after about three months. If gotten so very much out of it by this point that I just couldn't fathom NOT paying for class. Is also let go of my silly notions of why I didn't want to bow or call somebody Master this or whatever title.
I trained originally in an older style of Tae Kwon Do. I'd start the conversation with people about training and I'd hear all these really beautiful foreign words that, to me at least, never really meant anything, as in my dojang we didn't use Korean or Japanese to describe our Kata or techniques. The kids couldn't say or remember them long enough to tell their parents what technique they'd worked on. At one point I remember a parent coming up to me after class, complaining that if taught her child a terrible term. She heard her daughter running around saying that this and that object around the house,, pardon the French, was "Shit-hole!" The mom was about to go to the studio owner and have me fired and kicked out of the class. I'm the owners office she told me "I've seen you teach and your so good with the kids, I cannot believe you'd teach her words like that!" I wouldn't! I asked the young lady when she heard me say those things. She told me that in the circle after class, this is where we all sit in a big circle and say something about what we learned that day, I had mentioned something about Japanese church. They thought everything had a soul, even the room we practiced in, that's why we bow when we came in the class door. It was a "Shit-hole tradition." I told her no... I said "Shinto" it was a type of religion. I explained to her that if teach her more about it if it was ok with Mommy. What we say and what kids hear.
Ask that aside, I know that feeling your describing, moving from class to class. As my work duties changed, so did my job and hours. I had to stop attending class for a good while. The class unfortunately dwindled down as they do and after several years, the dance studio finally closed. The class moved to a different area. I found myself with the opportunity to learn another style that I had been very curious about. Judo!
I started attending a class here in Dallas. The class was instructed by some higher belts Godan and Roku Dan, and was helmed by a fantastic man, Vince Tamura. He's since passed, but my very first visit to the school, he took me aside himself and instructed me free of charge for about an hour. It was an unimaginable treat. As I started attending class regularly I warmed up to another fresh face in the class and we became workout partners. We both had prior instruction, mine being TKD and his being American Kempo. We talked a lot about the techniques we learned and how they related to what e already knew. He taught me something very important and this lesson stuck with me ever since. Just as you mentioned, the knowledge isn't contained inside the belt that we wear. Or the uniform we wear. It's in our hearts. In our minds.
I've studied other arts as time has gone by and each time I've started at the lowest position in line. I love it. It grounds me. Regardless of how many certs I obtain, the knowledge will never leave me and will always be mine. Belt or no belt.
Dan Archer
I've always enjoyed your writing, but first time to comment on it. I totally understand where you are coming from, but...
"to be recognized as a 1st dan in Iaido in the International Kendo Federation has nothing whatsoever to do with being recognized as a 1st dan in the All Japan Iaido Federation. "
I don't want to go into discussing differences and similarities, but I will note, if a person were a 5th dan in one, to start as a total beginner in another is a bit much.
An analogy. I teach at a small Japanese university and, given the shrinking of the school age population, we now have paths for what in the US are called 'non-traditional students'. However, being in Japan, this path still has these people, sometimes 30 or 40 years old, start with all the freshmen and they are required to go through all of the same classes that the bright eyed and bushy-tailed 18 and 19 year olds have to go thru. Little wonder we only have one or two of these students every 3 or 4 years.
We once had a student who did 2 years at a US university and, because of a number of reasons, had to come back to Japan. Another student who did two years at a branch of a university located in Hawai'i. For those two as well, there was almost a gleeful delight at saying that they had to take freshman speaking, writing, listening and reading. I was able to subvert that a little when those students were in my classes, letting them take responsibilities, but the lack of the larger system to recognize the difference is a problem, especially when universities are entering a period where we don't have tons of people clamoring to get in.
When I started judo, my dad, who was 35 years old and had gotten his 1st dan in Kodenko judo when he was growing up in Hawai'i, joined as well. I was only 7 or 8, so I really don't remember how it all transpired, but my father was recognized as a yudansha and at some point, was given a dan rank from the USJA.
It seems to me that as soon as we have an all encompassing 'system', we start to run into problems and I agree that some people are fixated on rank to an unhealthy degree. But it also goes the other way. When I was in Korea as an exchange professor, I was looking for a place to do martial arts and found a small jiu-jitsu dojo that catered to university students. I would have liked to have found a hapkido or kumdo and didn't know the ins and outs of jiu-jitsu etiquette, When I was just getting started, I had gotten to the dojo early and one of the Korean students asked me if I wanted to roll (or maybe I asked him, not really sure). My Korean was minimal, so there wasn't a lot of explanation, and we started. The guy who ran the dojo came up and started yelling at both of us because in jiu-jitsu (or in this dojo, I'm still not sure) you are only supposed to roll with the same rank. But given that rank was pieces of tape on the belt rather than a colored belt system, it wasn't very obvious. I kept going, but it cast a pall over the year. The teacher could have handled it better, maybe stopping and saying well, you didn't know, but you can only roll with people who are the same rank. However, if I knew that, I would have tried another place as I didn't want to just participate in drills, I wanted to get stretched a bit. I understand why, jiu-jitsu done poorly has a greater potential to wreck someone, but it's a bit much to assume that everyone knows that before going in.
Anyway, a small note of disagreement, but I love your writing and look forward to more!