As I approach the 24th anniversary of my first Aikido class (8/15/02… I remember it well because it’s also the day I found my beloved tuxedo cat Chiki abandoned in a Chinatown alley), I’ve been reflecting on what it means to lead an Aikido class.

Having recently been doing so more often at Bond Street Dojo, and with my Sandan test (potentially) on the horizon, the depth of that responsibility is often on my mind.

It’s easy to fall into the routine of demonstrating a technique four times and expecting more or less faithful mimicry by the class, but I know there should be more to it than that.

Conversing with Scott Berg Sensei (chief instructor of Aikido of Alamo) never fails to vividly enhance my perspective.

I was going to say he inspires me to be a better teacher, but it’s more than that.

In truth, he inspires me to want to be a better communicator.

In his second (auditory) appearance on the show, Scott sensei poses crucial questions every instructor of every art should have the courage to ask themselves:

“How do we know what to teach?

And how do we validate what we teach?”

For someone of his physical stature, answering that question superficially would be too easy. Standing at 6’5” and weighing nearly 250 pounds, he’s an athletic, imposing, highly skilled, Shihan. He could easily dominate almost anyone he trains with, and due to the social norms of the dojo, his students could understandably defer to complying to his “techniques” without resistance.

Yet, Scott sensei completely rejects this as a measure of efficacy. To him, the physical techniques of Aikido are not the art; they are the language we use to understand it.

Instead of focusing on perfecting predetermined forms, he suggests we study the underlying principles of relationship and alignment.

Physical forms—like Ikkyo or Kotegaeshi—are temporary constructs, convenient common shapes that manifest when a non-violent, physical dialogue is working.

Speaking of language, if you haven’t heard his incredible background story, I implore you to listen to his previous episode…

In the meantime, I’ll briefly encapsulate it for you…

Born deaf. By the time a (now common surgical procedure) was devised to restore his hearing, he’d already missed the critical developmental window for early speech acquisition. Most of his childhood was spent in silent observation, unable to even pronounce his own name in seventh grade, with a hospital psychiatrist going so far as to suggest to his parents that he should be institutionalized.

Growing up under these isolating circumstances, Scott sensei became a master of seeing the world in the third person. He observed life without writing himself into the story.

When he found Aikido, he discovered a realm where he didn’t need spoken words to connect. The physical communication gave him a somatic language to communicate in, allowing him to transition fully to a first-person participant.

Over decades of training, the ease he found on the mat has given him the confidence to speak and teach in front of large groups of people—a task that was once completely and utterly overwhelming.

I’m honored, once again, to offer him the vehicle to express his voice in all facets of his self-admitted “unique vocabulary.”

Also, seriously, please check out his Substack.

Elegantly sparse, his writing avoids attempting to establish absolute truths.

Instead, he uses his platform to express alternative perspectives that invite readers to think for themselves…

Oh, and some extraordinary photography.

I have a big announcement coming next week, but for now…

Ki to the City remains entirely reader/listener-supported. If you draw inspiration from these dialogues and wish to help me keep this podcast alive, please consider signing up to be a paid subscriber.

If you would prefer to make a one-time contribution, you can email me directly at [email protected]. As a token of my gratitude, you will receive a complimentary copy of Don Dickie Sensei’s volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

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