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I’m a former lawyer turned global yoga and karate instructor, but at my core, I’ve always been a puzzle-solver. Whether it’s decoding the complexities of dojo politics, navigating hierarchy, or building social media confidence, I love finding practical, thoughtful solutions to challenges. What many don’t know is that my passion for detective novels, mystery TV shows, and problem-solving goes hand-in-hand with my role as a helper type—I’ve always been the go-to person for friends and family seeking advice. Now, I’m bringing that same curiosity, empathy, and strategic thinking to this column, helping karateka worldwide untangle the questions and dilemmas of dojo life.
If you have a question—no matter how big or small—I’m here to help you find the answer.
One female instructor speaks out about feeling invisible in a male-dominated art—and Yanti Sensei responds with solidarity, practical advice, and a powerful reminder that change starts with visibility.
📖 Click the link to read the full article and join the conversation on building a more inclusive future for karate.
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Dear Yanti sensei,
Recently, the instructors in our dojo were away and asked one of the senior black belts to fill in for them during their absence. This was not the first time this senior has substituted for them. He is a capable technician, but his teaching style is very aggressive, even belligerent. He condescends, belittles, and is physically too rough—unlike the instructors, who are uniformly patient and supportive.
All of us left the class demoralized and, honestly, angry. No one was hurt, but someone could have been.
How Should We Handle This?
What is the best way to deal with this? We want to speak to the instructors but do not want to make trouble for this “novice instructor”. We feel we cannot talk to him as he has a way of turning things back on us as if we were to blame for being somehow deficient or weak. He would not listen, we fear and would bear a grudge. Please help us know what to do in this awkward and humiliating situation.
There are at least eight of us who think this way, so I know it’s not just me. The rest are too scared to speak up because they think his tough behavior is part of dojo life. They are new to karate and don’t realize that his treatment of them is not normal. I also think they tolerate him because they know he is talented and has a lot of knowledge, so they don’t want to get on his bad side.
Thank you in advance for your time and thoughts. We appreciate you.
Upset and Angry
Your Concerns Are Valid
First, I want to acknowledge how difficult this situation must be for you and your fellow students. The dojo should be a space where we are pushed to improve but never humiliated or made to feel unsafe. Strong teaching challenges students, but it should never rely on intimidation or excessive force.
Your concerns are absolutely valid, and your instinct to seek a solution rather than simply endure or retaliate already reflects the martial spirit we aim to cultivate—one rooted in respect, courage, and high integrity.
Addressing the Issue with Your Instructors
Your regular instructors have clearly fostered an environment of patience, respect, and support, and it’s crucial to protect that culture. Please don’t think you’re making trouble—it’s about ensuring that the values your senseis have worked hard to establish remain intact. The dojo’s culture is, after all, set by its leadership.
When approaching them, frame the conversation as a concern for the dojo’s training environment rather than a complaint about an individual.
You could say something like:
“We genuinely appreciate the positive and supportive atmosphere you create in our training. While you were away, the substitute class felt very different—many of us left feeling demoralized and even fearful. The teaching style was much harsher than we’re used to, with belittling language and excessive physical contact during demonstrations. We wanted to bring this to your attention because we care about preserving the culture you’ve built and ensuring that all students, especially beginners, feel safe and supported in their training. Could you please talk to this black belt substitute teacher?”
It’s especially important that newer students don’t mistakenly believe that being belittled or physically overpowered is a normal part of karate. Since multiple students share these concerns, consider addressing your sensei as a small group. This prevents the issue from being dismissed as one person’s complaint and instead highlights a collective experience.
Why Engaging the Substitute Directly May Not Work
You mentioned that the substitute black belt has a habit of deflecting criticism and turning it back on others. That kind of behavior often stems from insecurity masked as dominance. Engaging him directly is unlikely to lead to a productive outcome. Instead, your instructors (who have both authority and responsibility) should be the ones to address his teaching methods, whether through direct mentoring or by reconsidering whether he should be left in charge.
I recall an incident from my own time training tae kwon do at university when a visiting black belt deliberately concealed his true rank by wearing a white belt, and concussed me with a spinning back kick. I was a brown belt at the time. This is a much longer story, but my sensei acted immediately, removing the guest from the dojo. This response demonstrated impeccable leadership and set a clear standard that reckless or disrespectful behavior would not be tolerated. Similarly, your instructors should take swift action to protect the dojo's integrity.
Martial Arts and Ethical Instruction
A skilled martial artist is not necessarily a skilled instructor or even an ethical person. Just because someone has seniority doesn’t mean they have evolved in spiritual or moral maturity. Teaching karate or any martial art is not just about technical ability—it’s about leadership, guidance, and responsibility. A strong teacher pushes students to improve, but never by belittling them. Strength and respect must go hand in hand.
The Importance of Dojo Culture
When I started a consistent yoga practice, I learned about the concept of ahimsa, often translated as non-violence but encompassing non-harm. That includes how we correct others, how we speak, and the energy we bring into a shared space. The dojo should be no different. Students are not there to be broken down; they are there to be built up.
If your instructors are committed to the dojo’s well-being, they will take this matter seriously. If I were in their position, I would act immediately. At the very least, they should speak to this black belt about his behavior. Depending on his response, they may remove him from teaching until he demonstrates the ability to instruct with discipline and respect. In some dojos, individuals demonstrating problematic behavior have been asked to take a leave of absence.
If this person ran his own dojo and taught classes with the type of attitude you describe, I doubt he’d keep any of his students for very long. Not having a stake in the dojo’s well-being might suggest that his behavior stems from a personal power trip rather than a genuine desire to teach.
Final Thoughts
By speaking up, you’re not causing conflict; you’re helping to resolve it. You’re demonstrating real leadership, protecting your fellow students, and ensuring that your dojo remains a place where students feel both challenged and supported.
I hope this helps, and I’m rooting for you. Your instructors will want to know what happens in their absence, and they will appreciate that you care enough to protect the dojo’s ethos and spirit. Please keep me posted as to how things unfold.
(Readers, this question came from North America, but if this issue happened in a UK setting, this could be a safeguarding issue if intimidation and physical roughness created an unsafe training environment. The first step would be to report it within the dojo, followed by escalation to a governing body if necessary.)
Hoping for a positive outcome,
Yanti
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Dear Yanti sensei,
Although I felt good before my last grading, I failed it, and now I feel deeply humiliated. I thought I trained sufficiently and dedicated all my spare time when I wasn’t working to making sure I would pass. I just did the old Eat Sleep Karate thing, and I was much more focused this second time around. That said, I am now in total disbelief, and I feel totally confused and overwhelmed. Most of all, though, I am very disappointed in myself. That makes it twice that I have failed my Shodan.
What happened and why? How do I come back from this, Sensei?
Depressed Loser
Dear Depressed Loser,
First things first: Stop calling yourself a loser. And secondly, you’re not alone. Every martial artist, from the newest white belt to the most senior Sensei, has faced some form of failure—whether it was a grading, a tournament loss, or simply a class where nothing felt right. In fact, failure is not just common in the dojo; it’s essential. It’s part of the heat that tempers your spirit.
Failure in the dojo is not the end of your story—it’s the beginning of a deeper chapter. It asks you to step back, reflect, and recommit with more clarity and purpose. The goal isn’t to avoid failure at all costs; it’s to develop the resilience to face it without losing heart. As Funakoshi reminds us, “The ultimate aim of karate lies not in victory or defeat, but in the perfection of the character of its participants.” This is character training in action.
I often like to refer to the old Japanese proverb, “Fall down seven times, get up eight.” I have to admit I’ve never failed an actual karate grading. However, I have failed dismally in a big competition in England where I froze and forgot my kata. At the time, my seven-year-old niece was visiting from the U.S. and came to watch me compete. After coming off the court, she asked me, “Why didn’t you move when the other person was moving, Yanti?” Naturally, I was mortified. But we had a long talk about it afterward, and I am proud to say today she is an elite college athlete. I like to think our talk made her see that winning and losing is just part of mastering your sport, and we have to learn about ourselves through reflection on both the wins and the losses.
Instead of framing your grading failure as a personal failure, let’s try to approach it the way you would a difficult new kata. Shift your mindset from humiliation to inquiry. What worked? What didn’t? Were nerves a factor? Were there gaps in your preparation? By asking these questions without self-judgment, you turn the experience into valuable data that can sharpen your future training.
In yoga philosophy, we talk about abhyasa (steady practice) and vairagya (letting go of attachment to results). Together, they form the balance needed for any lifelong pursuit—especially one as humbling as karate. You practice with full dedication, but you release the need for external validation. This allows you to show up fully, without fear of success or failure. I also live by the words of Pattabhi Jois, the founder of Ashtanga yoga. He said we should approach our practice regularly, over a long period of time, and with a devoted attitude, and all is coming. In other words, train, show up, be loyal to the practice, but don’t expect goals to be met overnight. Enjoy the process—the ups, the downs, and the struggle—and over time, the discipline, focus, and work ethic will get you where you need to be. You can’t rush it.
Also, try to remember that your grading result doesn’t define your worth as a karateka. It’s simply a snapshot in time—a reflection of what was present that day. If you stumbled, it might mean your technique needs refinement, your mind needs more training in focus, or you need more practice staying calm under pressure. Were you even breathing and working on maintaining calm clarity, despite the stress of the grading environment? All of that can be worked on. You are still on the path, and the path is what matters.
You’re not training to become someone who never falls—you are training to become someone who knows how to get back up with grace, courage, and wisdom. Every great Sensei has their own story of a failed grading, a humbling correction, or a moment where they wanted to quit. Their strength lies in what they chose next: to train again. If you haven’t read it already, don’t forget to check out my husband Richard’s book Chasing Bushido: How I Learned to Just Say Osu. In it, he tells the story of failing Shodan. When you consider that failure and then see where he is today, you realize that he shares that story of failure (and many other “failures” in the book, I might add) and actually values those experiences of loss almost as much as the highs, such as the times he competed in the All Japan Championships in Tokyo.
Finally, my last bit of advice would be to take all the feedback offered and ask your instructor for specific guidance. Set about making a training plan to address the areas that need attention. Follow that training plan religiously. But also celebrate your courage for even stepping onto that floor again. Most people never even get that far. You did. And you will again. Well done, and let me know how you go.
Yanti sensei
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A senior student feels nervous and unprepared after being asked to teach a class.
Dear Yanti sensei,
My instructor has asked me to teach a couple of classes on the schedule as I am now officially a Nidan. I really enjoy dojo life and I have a warm relationship with all the other students. This new request has me in a tailspin though because I feel so unprepared to teach. I admit I’m a perfectionist and I’m afraid to make mistakes. My parents brought me up to avoid making mistakes or “failing” at all costs. I remember being scared coming home from school with anything less than a B on my report card. I definitely feel that I need more time before I’m ready to give my first class.
Help!
Nervous and Stressed
Dear Nervous and Stressed,
It’s completely natural to feel a wave of nerves when stepping into a teaching role for the first time. In fact, that feeling is a sign you care—and that’s a good thing.
Every instructor, no matter how experienced, remembers their first class. It’s not about being flawless. It’s about stepping up with honesty, humility, and the mindset of a lifelong learner. I remember when I taught my first karate class subbing for Richard when he was teaching abroad. He said—and I’ll never forget it because I say this to all my mentees today—“Just teach a good solid class and everyone will be happy. You don’t have to come up with something new and genius. Kihon, Kata, and some Kumite will be fine.” He was right. As you start to teach, you develop your own voice, and then you can start offering more. But when you start off, there’s no need to do anything super fancy or to prove anything.
Start by deciding on a clear and achievable objective for your class. Do you want your students to leave with sharper stances? A clearer sense of rhythm in their kata? Or maybe a better understanding of hip rotation in basic techniques? Whatever it is, let that focus shape your plan—but keep room for adjustment if the energy in the room asks for it. As in sparring, adaptability is a teacher’s greatest ally. And as in yoga teacher training, I always counsel having a lesson plan. However, if necessary, be ready to throw it out the window if circumstances and needs change in the classroom in real time.
Gichin Funakoshi famously said, “Karate is like boiling water; without heat, it returns to its tepid state.” The same applies to teaching. You’ll never be perfectly “ready,” because teaching is itself part of your training. You need to be put on the spot and not be afraid of making errors. Every mistake, every question you can’t immediately answer, is fuel for your own development. If you’re asked something you don’t know, simply say: “That’s a great question—let’s explore it together.” Showing that degree of openness models one of the most valuable lessons we can give our students: that learning never ends.
It’s also important to note that at your stage, you’re not expected to have the answers of a sensei with decades of experience. What you do have is your unique journey, your understanding of the material at your level, and your passion for sharing. Teach what you know well, and teach it with clarity. Don’t try to impress—focus on connecting. As the Zen saying goes, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” Right now, you are that teacher, and your honesty and effort will make the lesson valuable.
Finally, remember this: teaching isn’t just something you do for others. It’s one of the fastest ways to accelerate your own progress. When you have to explain a movement, you understand it more deeply yourself. When you see a student struggle, you sharpen your eye for detail. In short, teaching trains the teacher.
So step into that role with curiosity, compassion, and courage. As another martial proverb says: “A black belt is a white belt who never quit.” A confident teacher is a nervous student who just kept showing up.
Yanti sensei
Dear Yanti sensei,
I love my karate and attend class 3 sometimes up to 5 times a week. I’ve noticed my sensei who is a fair and wonderful instructor, tends to favour a small group of senior students. Whenever I ask for help, my sensei and the senior students tease me for being “too needy”. How do I gain the respect I feel I deserve and be included in meaningful learning experiences without appearing pushy?
Thank you!
Needy but Dedicated
Dear Needy but Dedicated,
This is something many students encounter, and it’s important to remember that being overlooked isn’t always a reflection of your skill or worth. In traditional dojos, instructors often focus on senior students, but this doesn’t mean you can’t advocate for your development. Instead of waiting for recognition, try approaching your instructor with specific questions or feedback requests. “Sensei, I’m working on improving my stance in this technique—do you have any thoughts?” can invite guidance without sounding demanding. If your sensei asks if anyone has questions by all means ask during the class, but on the whole, try not to ask during the flow of the class. Do ask at the end of instruction when your sensei has time to give you individual attention and feedback.
Don’t forget to also focus on self-driven improvement—keep refining your skills during independent solo practice. In time, your dedication will speak louder than any words. Often, those who quietly persevere become the most technically sound practitioners, earning respect beyond what is visibly given in class.
This quote from Miyamoto Musashi’s The Book of Five Rings might help you:
“Do nothing that is of no use” — which underscores the importance of intentional and disciplined practice without distractions. Solo training may not yield immediate results, but every purposeful repetition builds skill, resilience and mastery over time. “You can only fight the way you practice” — is another fitting Musashi quote which reminds us that the depth and quality of solitary training, shape our ability to perform when it truly matters.
Ganbatte and stay strong!
Dear Yanti sensei,
I am a senior brown belt, ready to go for Shodan in about 6 months. I consider myself technically strong, having been an athlete all my life. I would love to one day be an instructor while maintaining my professional day job. However, right now, it seems like I keep getting assigned administrative or supportive roles during seminars, while my male counterparts are given teaching responsibilities. I feel under-utilised and I worry that speaking up will be seen as “disrespecting dojo tradition”. How can I advocate for myself while maintaining dojo harmony?
Thanks sensei.
Disrespected
Dear Disrespected,
I understand how discouraging this can be, and you’re not alone. Women in Shotokan have often found themselves in this position. It’s important to recognize that leadership isn’t always given—it can also be claimed. Start by demonstrating leadership in smaller ways. Offer to guide newer students during warm-ups or share helpful insights during partner drills. Check in on juniors and be willing to stay after class to go over drills with students who might be struggling. Often, instructors will notice this initiative and begin to involve you in more visible roles.
You could also have a respectful conversation with your instructor, framed around your desire to contribute more to the dojo: “Sensei, I’d love to help with instruction or warm-ups. Is there an area where I can contribute to our classes?” By positioning yourself as a willing leader, you’re likely to open doors without confrontation. And remember, sometimes persistence is what changes long-standing traditions.
I’ve had some strong female mentors in my professional life who have modelled how to behave in the corporate world. One of them is Suzy Welch, author and business professor, also the wife of the famous GE CEO Jack Welch. Suzy and Jack both taught me from the start some principles which I’ve carried over into my role in the dojo. One of them is to always be respectful to seniors, but transparent about what you can offer and how you want to help. Initiating a dialogue and honest chats is often the way forward, whether that’s after class or having a coffee in a group. As the
dojo grows and prospers, I think it would be odd for any sensei to balk at your positivity and enthusiasm.
Good luck and let me know how you go.
Dear Yanti sensei,
I am a Nidan and really enjoying my training. I am excited to attend a high-profile seminar hosted by another organization, but my sensei has strongly discouraged my participation, citing organizational rivalries. I feel torn between loyalty to my dojo and the chance for personal growth. What’s the best way to approach this situation without burning bridges sensei?
Osu,
Torn
Dear Torn,
This is a delicate situation, and I can understand why you feel torn. Cross-dojo politics are common in martial arts, but they don’t have to block your personal growth. Start by approaching your instructor with curiosity rather than opposition. “Sensei, I’m eager to learn from different perspectives. Could we discuss why this seminar may not be beneficial for me?” This shows respect while creating space for a productive dialogue.
If your sensei remains firm, consider offering a compromise. Perhaps you can attend under the condition that you bring back what you learned to share with your dojo. If attendance is off the table, see if there are opportunities for exposure within your current organization. Growth doesn’t always depend on external events—sometimes it’s about being adaptable and finding new paths within your existing network. Over time your sensei might come to share the details of the reasons for feeling strongly about the organizational rivalry. There might be a legitimate reason for him asking you not to attend. Depending on your beliefs and your seniority, one day down the line you might consider taking a stronger stand. Who knows you might be ok sharing open disagreement with your sensei, but I’d look at these initial action steps and see if you can first come to a mutually agreeable path forward.
This reminds me of one of my favorite Stoic quotes from Seneca:
“Associate with those who will make a better man of you. Welcome those whom you yourself can improve. The process is mutual; for men learn while they teach.” (Letters to Lucille’s, Letter 7) Loyalty to a teacher includes both learning from them and sharing their wisdom with others, strengthening the chain of knowledge and respect.
Good luck and be sure to let me know how it all goes.
Dear Yanti sensei,
I am over 70 and have been training for over 20 years. I am by no means a former champion but you could say I am a serious and devoted veteran. One day I woke up and I just felt really old. I felt so frustrated that my body couldn’t keep up with the demands of training especially against the young guns in our dojo. I feel pathetic in class because I get winded easily and I am far less coordinated than I used to be. I am not as quick with my techniques and I am visibly slower with my snap backs with punches and kicks. What will become of me? Help !
Any advice Yanti sensei?
Exhausted, OAP.
Dear OAP, (Old aged pensioner)
You are not alone!
Aging in martial arts is not a barrier—it’s a teacher. While younger students may rely on speed and agility, you have the advantage of wisdom, precision, and body awareness. Remember, karate is not a race. It’s a lifelong pursuit, and your success is not measured by how fast or hard you move but by how efficiently and mindfully you execute each technique.
The OM Purnam mantra from the yoga tradition is a beautiful way to frame the idea of being whole regardless of the phase of life we are in. Karate, like life, offers a deeper path, one where progress isn’t measured by speed or force but by refinement, understanding and presence. In this mantra, the ancients said that the whole remains whole, regardless of what is taken or added. So your karate remains whole, even though your body changes. In fact many masters say that true karate only begins to reveal itself as we age and shed the need to show strength.
Rather than focusing on limitations, shift your mindset toward mastery of fundamentals. Refine your stances, work on kata rhythm, and understand the biomechanics behind movements. Adapt where necessary—small adjustments in range or intensity don’t diminish the integrity of your training. Embrace the training as it is now – not as it once was - and you’ll find the satisfaction of deep understanding far outweighs the fleeting energy of youth. You’re already whole. Your karate is already whole. Train from that place.
Much like yoga, karate allows us to meet our bodies where they are each day. Find joy in the small victories, and never underestimate the power of consistency over time. As I’ve aged I’ve added other routines to my practice, including breathwork, taiji and I’ve kept up my yoga. It doesn’t have to be strenuous yoga, just easeful stretching to maintain range of movement and flexibility. When I do breathwork I always find it helps my recovery for the next day’s training.
If you feel self-conscious or worried, be ready to discuss how you feel with your sensei. I’m sure they will encourage you to do your best and not to worry about speed or agility. Karate is for everyone, and can be incredibly rewarding even as we age. Be willing to adapt and manage your expectations.
You are great just as you are.