"Sure I am of this, that you have only to endure to conquer. You have only to persevere to save yourselves."

—Sir Winston Churchill

I arrived at the martial arts school early one morning and noticed a small envelope my desk. One of my students, who was also an instructor, had recently graduated from high school. I recognized his handwriting and expected perhaps a thank you note for the small gift I’d sent. When I opened it I found much more!

Dear Mr. Graybeal,

Your card was very inspirational, just as you have been to me for many years. I have grown up admiring you as a role model. I have learned a great deal from you and you have given me so much. You have been a hero to me, giving me the skills and shaping my character into what it is today. You have given me the opportunities to have succeeded as I have done and to go on to even better things. I will try to live up to your teachings and expectations of me. Perhaps the greatest thing you have given me is the ability and opportunity to give back to other children some of what you have given me. I’ve been able to work with hundreds of children who I love and adore, and I hope that I’ve been able to make a difference in their lives as well. I’ve come to learn that every single student I work with is very special and deserves the best. I hope that part of what I give them helps to make them the best that they can possibly be. Thank you for making me the young man that I am, and I wish you luck in shaping the lives of others as I try to pass on what you have given me.

Jeff

I stood frozen, not knowing whether to cry or smile. Out of thousands of students, Jeff had been with me the longest, from the time he was five. He had seen me change as much as I had seen him change. And he reflected the very personal empowerment I wanted to accomplish with my life and my teaching. This letter confirmed in my mind that what I was doing worked and brought with it an overwhelming feeling I carry with me every day.

Note in hand, I caught myself staring out the window, remembering a similar letter I’d written to my own martial arts instructor when I graduated from high school. I wanted nothing more than to live up to what he believed I could be. What was passed on to me I now had passed on to another. He, in turn, will pass it on as well. Isn’t life grand?

A WORD TO TEACHERS

Before we begin our journey, we must start with ourselves. As adults, we not only need to mold the lives of our students, but we must continually mold our own.

Written Goals

I have read statistics that only five-percent of the population has defined goals and only one-percent actually writes those goals on paper. A famous story about the 1953 graduating class at Yale University well illustrates this point. At graduation, a researcher gathered the class together and asked how many people had goals and how many had those goals written down so they could refer to them. Twenty years later, the researcher interviewed them again and found that the three-percent with written goals had more personal wealth and personal success than the rest of the class—combined.

In September of 1993, my goal was to have two hundred students at the martial arts school. On a piece of paper, I wrote "200 students," and taped it to my bathroom mirror. Every day I would wake and see "200 students." Eighteen months later, I had two hundred students, so I removed the piece of paper from my mirror. Nine months later I still had two hundred students and I realized there might be something to writing down goals. On another piece of paper and I wrote "400 students." It went on my bathroom mirror. Six months into the new goal, we now have 280 students.

When you make a commitment to change, to take action—write your goals on a piece of paper, put it where you can see it every day. Decide what you want from yourself and what you want from your future.

Oh, yes you can

I sat across the table from a father whose son, Aaron, wanted to quit taking martial arts lessons. The "full of energy" ten-year-old had been taking lessons for two years, and out of the blue his father ended up in my conference room explaining a difficult situation. Mr. Thomas repeated over and over how he loved the program and thought it was beneficial to Aaron.

"Can you see how this will improve his life?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, I have seen great improvements." He leaned back in the chair, then forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"Then, why are you letting him quit?"

"He doesn’t want to do it anymore. I can’t force him." He shifted again and folded his arms.

"Sure you can, you’re the father," I said, doing my best to use a voice that was non-confrontational.

"I suppose I could, but I’m not going to."

"What would happen if you did?".

"I’m not going to, so it doesn’t matter." He cleared his throat and looked down at the table.

"I know you’re not going to, but what if you did? You said the program was beneficial and you thought he was getting a great deal out of it. What would happen if you forced him to continue?"

Mr. Thomas had difficulty imagining himself forcing his child to come to class. In his mind, I assume, that forcing involved an image of dragging a kicking and screaming ten-year-old into the martial arts school. In my mind it meant encouragement and motivation.

When parents don’t see the true benefit of a program or activity, they often say they can’t force their child. When they do see the benefit, they often ask for help in providing motivation. I wanted Aaron’s father’s mind to work in a different way. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable to do this and other times it’s enlightening.

I often speak with people who are quick to accept failure. Or others who are quick to accept average instead of striving for excellence. They’ll say, "You can’t be perfect." And I always answer, "Why not? What if you consistently aimed for perfection? What would be different in your life?"

I constantly ask myself those questions. What if I wrote a book that would help people work with children? What if I asked people questions that provoked them into thinking about possibilities and not self-imposed limiting beliefs? What if I changed the way I thought and became an outstanding teacher?

The Art of Empowering Children Table of Contents Meet the author: John C. Graybeal

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