Chinese Secrecy
by Mark Cheng, L.Ac.

Chinese martial arts teachers keep secrets two ways: Either they tell you nothing at all, or they overload you with information. Few of them are aware that their methods are propagating a culture of misinformation.

Traditionally, Chinese masters used a very nonsystematic format. They expected their disciples to struggle to glean the tiniest bits of information from their lessons. In ancient times, people kept their fighting skills secret for various reasons. They used the knowledge to defend their lives and the lives of loved ones, and sometimes they used it to cause trouble. Either way, it was best to keep the skills concealed lest their practice attract too much attention. East Asians also believed that no precious skill should be taught too freely: A student¡¯s struggle to acquire ability would test not only his discipline and commitment to the art, but also his commitment to his teacher.

According to legend, Hui Ke, the first disciple of Bodhidharma (called Da Mo in China and Daruma in Japan), knelt in the snow for days trying to earn his master¡¯s acceptance. When told that Bodhidharma would teach him only if red snow fell from the sky, he severed his left arm, sending a mist of blood down on the snow and turning it red. Unfortunately, incidents like this one served mostly to hinder the pedagogical development of the arts, as the following examples illustrate.

Tai chi instructors are notorious for teaching their students in monkey-see, monkey-do fashion. Go to any major metropolitan area some morning, and the odds are decent that you¡¯ll find people practicing tai chi or chi kung. Regardless of their level, they¡¯re usually trying with varying degrees of success to mimic their teacher¡¯s motions. Many students have the preconceived notion that such speechless transmission is how they¡¯re supposed to learn and that osmosis is ¡°how it¡¯s done.¡± Accepting phrases like ¡°it takes a lifetime to master the art¡± propagates these teaching methods. Whether there¡¯s any verbal instruction is almost a moot point.

This teaching method requires years of patience, a perceptive mind and good luck for learning to occur. Students must practice diligently to acquire the basic body movements and develop coordination. They must also experiment constantly to perceive what the combat applications for those movements might be. Many instructors are adept at demonstrating applications, yet their longtime students have no concept of how to apply the forms, let alone execute them properly. While this sort of learning environment challenges the student¡¯s body, mind and spirit, it¡¯s not an ideal one.

On the flip side of the coin, there are teachers who¡¯ve seen that modern American students like to be spoon-fed techniques detail by detail. While these sifu take the time to properly instruct their pupils in the finer points of techniques, they fall into the same two categories of teaching too much or teaching too little.

Some are outstanding at explaining the details, but they teach every class in piecemeal fashion and cover only one posture, technique or movement per lesson. Focusing so intently on the minutia of a move, they sometimes lose sight of the bigger picture of martial arts training. Concerned to an inordinate degree about foot placement, facial expression or breathing, they focus so intently on an individual root that they never see the entire tree, let alone the forest. This is a great strategy for retaining highly motivated students for years, but it¡¯s also an easy way to frustrate the majority of others who need to learn their chosen art from different perspectives.

Other instructors are just the opposite. They have an excellent grasp of the finer points of techniques, but they teach as if they¡¯re trying to impart everything they know in less than two hours. If you look at teaching and learning through the classical analogy of the empty cup versus the full cup, the previously mentioned method would be death by dehydration, and this method would be death by drowning. Some instructors cover ground at a million miles an hour, leaving most of their students in the dust. Instead of allowing muscle memory to develop and cognitive comprehension to occur, they blow through one technique after another. Except in the case of the rare prodigy with a photographic memory, the result is the same as if nothing was taught at all. Imagine if someone read the entire Bible to you in one sitting and then asked you to recite certain verses. It would be next to impossible for the average person.

There are also martial artists who erroneously believe that the best competitors are the best coaches and teachers. They attach themselves to a winning fighter and assume he can impart his ability to them. Competitors or champions have high performance as their top priority. Pedagogical ability is not part of their requisite skill set. Therefore, many competitors are adept performers who may not always be able to break down their techniques to the level that¡¯s necessary for others to be able to imitate their methods.

The difficult part of teaching is knowing how to balance different approaches. Especially today, when students are used to paying for high-quality professional instruction, it¡¯s imperative to teach in ways that impart the message as quickly as the recipient can process the knowledge. We must be able to explain the subtleties of each technique in confident and clear-cut detail. However, we also need to know when to pull back and let our students understand where each concept or technique fits in the bigger scheme of things. The time for keeping secrets is over. There are far better ways of testing someone¡¯s dedication or character without having to cheat him out of good instruction.

About the author: Mark Cheng is a traditional Chinese-medicine physician and martial arts instructor based in West Los Angeles.