John Swanagon's Blog

I have been studying and practicing the Korean martial art of Taekwondo for twenty two years; twenty three this April. One of my teachers, Master Lee Cutright, once told me for one to become “good” at any one thing, one had to study it, perfect it, and apply it for a minimum of ten years. He couldn’t have been more right, especially about the “minimum” part. After all, I still believe I have much to learn. Yet, after more than reaching that ten-year pinnacle, I have found myself disappointed at what Taekwondo has become.

Today, Taekwondo has become nothing but a “commercialized sport”. It is all about kicking and punching, fighting and destroying, cheating and manipulating, and rising to the top at any cost. Gone are the tenets. Gone is the spirituality. Gone is character building. Courtesy, Integrity, Indomitable Spirit (“Courage”), Self Control, and Perseverance no longer mean anything. Today’s students have no respect for their seniors or for each other, they put in only the minimum effort, and expect nothing more than a “good workout”. It makes me sad.

I grew up with Taekwondo. It made me who I am today, and who I continue to be. My instructors tore me down and built me up into my own best self. They screamed at me. They told me I was a wuss. They told me I sucked. They demanded to know who I was. They did this in front of everyone and no more than an inch from my face. It was embarrassing, but it taught me to try harder, push further, and learn about myself. And then it happened. Slowly but surely, I gained their respect. I became a leader, not a follower. I became a teacher and a student. I won sparring matches. I busted through wood. I learned who I was. I became, because of Taekwondo, John Swanagon. Before, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t believe in myself. I didn’t challenge myself. I was scared of my own shadow.

Days like today make me wonder who I would have become had I grown up with what Taekwondo has become. Would I have got myself into stellar shape with those six pack abs and bulging biceps? Probably. But I wouldn’t have learned who I was. I wouldn’t have learned that I had the strength inside me to overcome anything. I wouldn’t have become a winner. I wouldn’t have become a leader. I wouldn’t be practicing or teaching Taekwondo today. Without those things under my belt, I wouldn’t have accomplished what I have, both in and outside Taekwondo.

Overall, I believe the art of Taekwondo has been lost. There are still a few pockets of it here and there. However, because money is the name of the game, those pockets are being drowned out. Just today, I was criticized by a fellow student, who hasn’t put in even half the time I have into Taekwondo, for daring to say I was displeased by a promotion test where nobody cared, and basic respect was non-existent. I guess that is the state of Taekwondo today. I never, not now or ever, would talk to my seniors like that. Right or wrong doesn’t matter.

For me, however, the art of Taekwondo lives on. I hope moving to a new state will allow me to open my own school, so that I can teach Taekwondo the way it is meant to be taught. Of course, the way I teach isn’t for everybody. It takes a lot of courage to explore yourself, confront your weaknesses, and challenge yourself to become the best you can be. And it is for that reason that Taekwondo has drifted sport versus art. People don’t want to pay someone to hear they suck even though it is a worthwhile journey. No, these days, everyone thinks they are entitled, that it should just be given to them, and that they are perfect. I’m sorry, but that is dead wrong. No one is entitled, no one should have it given to them, and no one is perfect. You have to earn it. You don’t become the best overnight. It is gradual and sometimes lifelong. For me, I continue to practice, teach, and compete in Taekwondo despite an cruel injury that hurts non-stop and prevents my body from working just right. But I continue; I continue because it is how I was taught. I learned it on the road to discovering who I was. I will always be eternally grateful to Master Cutright for teaching me that. Someday, I hope someone will write that about me.