Hanshi George Anderson

Hanshi George Anderson

A few days ago, November 25, would have been Hanshi George Anderson’s birthday. He died on August 6, 2009. I was fortunate to have had Hanshi Anderson as a friend and mentor for many years.

Hanshi Anderson held many significant positions within karate. He was President of the USA Karate Federation (USAKF), which was then the national governing body (NGB) for karate in this country. Each Olympic sport has an NGB – whether it’s track, gymnastics, curling, skiing, or one of the martial arts. These are designated by the US Olympic Committee as the official voice of that sport’s participation in international competition. When another country requests the United States send karate athletes to participate in an event, it is the designated NGB that trains, selects, and fields the athletes who will be sent to represent this country. At that time, our NGB was the USAKF. In addition, Hanshi Anderson was also President of the Pan American Union of Karatedo Organizations (PUKO), the organization recognized by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) as the official governing body for karate competition within this hemisphere. In addition, he was also 1^st Vice President of the World Union of Karate Organizations (WUKO), which had been designated by the IOC as the official world governing body for karate. (WUKO was later renamed World Karate Federation, or WKF.)

I held several positions within the USAKF (Coach, National Coaching Staff; Co-chair, National Coaches Education Committee; Director, Media Relations Committee, etc.) as well as with PUKO. I was issued 7^th Dan certificates from USAKF, PUKO, and WUKO.

Hanshi Anderson and I traveled many times together to many parts of the world. I learned a huge amount from him. And learning with him was always a very active activity. He didn’t just talk and you listen and learn. He liked to ask questions and challenge you. He also was able to get people, even life-long enemies in karate, to work together for the common good, to share information with others and fight to get karate into the Olympics. He was a perfect model of Rough Rider/U.S. President Teddy Roosevelt’s admonition to “Speak softly but carry a big stick.” Sometimes he achieved success through diplomacy and sometimes threat of the stick.

On one trip, we stayed at 2^nd home owned by the head of karate there. The first night, Hanshi Anderson and I ate alone. His wife brought us plates. On it was an almost black sausage and another that was gray and smelled fishy. I looked down at my plate, not sure what it was. Neither looked appetizing to me. I asked Hanshi if he knew what it was. He said it was fish sausage and blood sausage. Not being a lover of fish or fan of eating blood, I asked him if he was going to eat it, hoping he had an exit strategy I hadn’t thought of. He took a big bite of the blood sausage and said “When I’m traveling abroad, I eat whatever they set in front of me, even sheep eyes.”

Another time, he and I took the USA Karate Team to Costa Rica for their Olympic Sports Festival. I was the designated head coach for the U.S. team. When a national team was invited to compete by a host nation, the visiting team generally paid their own travel expenses and the host country paid all in-country expenses – rooms, meals, transportation, etc.

We were picked up at the airport by the host group, headed by an attorney who was the designated national chairman and country rep under PUKO and WUKO. It seemed to take a long time for them to get us registered at our hotel in downtown San Jose, across from the government building. But it was eventually worked out and we were shown to our rooms. As was usual, everyone shared a room, even Hanshi Anderson and I, to keep expenses down.

One of my students, Ron Vick, won his division and was named Outstanding Competitor. The team competition went well too. We placed higher (2^nd or 3^rd) than I feared we would, considering we had problems fielding a team. We ended up with three black belts and two green belts. We beat some teams made up of all seasoned black belts. So I was pretty proud of them. (Perhaps, I’ll talk sometime about the tactics and strategy I used to prepare green belts to hold their own against black belts.) We met some great people in Costa Rica. A party was held after the competition. While there, a group of senior local karateka approached Hanshi Anderson and I, wanting to talk to us privately.

They told us that the host group hadn’t paid our housing expenses. They (the people we were talking with) had had to pay it to save face for their country. They said the head of the host group (let’s call him Mr. X) told them “They can pay for their own rooms. They’re rich gringos.”

Well, the next night, the host group took Hanshi Anderson and I to a restaurant for dinner to celebrate our birthdays. (Hanshi Anderson’s and mine were three days apart.) Mr. X and his wife and daughter were seated across the table from Hanshi and I. He kept trying flatter Hanshi, obviously wanting to finesse a high level position for himself in PUKO or WUKO. The wait staff kept bringing drinks of guaro, their national drink, and a long list of toasts were made. As the night wore on, Hanshi’s eyes narrowed and he locked them onto Mr. X. I knew Hanshi well enough to know what was coming. “I know you think we’re just a bunch of rich gringos,” Hanshi said, loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. Mr. X’s eyes flared in fear. “A lot of uneducated people think that. But there are no kings in America. We got rid of them a long time ago. None of us are rich lawyers (like Mr. X) or government fat cats (like the rest of those at the table). We’re just regular, hard-working martial artists.” It got very quiet.

Mr. X must have realized his desire to be named anything higher than ring-boy was heading rapidly south. As his aides (two of the high ranking government guys) drove us back to our hotel, I noticed we weren’t going the right way. When questioned, they told us they were taking us to a “special hotel,” where there were many beautiful women. Hanshi thanked them but said we didn’t have time for that type of thing. He was expecting a call from someone involved in trying to get karate in the Olympics and needed to get back to our room. Reluctantly, they dropped us off at our hotel.

He was a smart, tough guy, mentally and physically. Just being with him and watching how he did things was hugely educational. My life would have been significantly lessened had I not had the great fortune to know and spend so much time around him.

“When are you going to be promoted to 10th degree?” – Part III



My primary instructor, Soke Tak Kubota (right),
actor and karateka James Caan (center), and me.

 I’ve been talking about my many reasons for not wanting to be promoted to 10^th dan, while so many seem obsessed with it. As I said, these are just my reasons for making this choice. Others are welcome to their own reasons for accepting or even seeking it. Let me add just a bit more to my personal choice before turning to a few legitimate reasons for working to earn a high dan grade.

The most respected world karate organizations, IMHO, all impose minimum time-in-grade (TIG) and age requirements for each dan promotion. I’ll just list the standard requirements for promotion beyond 5^th dan. (Before this, minimum TIG is generally a number of years equal to the number of the dan grade one is trying to reach – 2 years for 2^nd dan, 3 years for 3^rd dan, etc.) For 6^th dan, an applicant must be at least 35 years old and been at 5^th dan for at least 5 years. For 7^th dan, an applicant must be at least 42 years old and been at 6^th dan for at least 6 years. For 8^th dan, an applicant must be at least 50 years old and been at 7^th dan for at least 8 years. For 9^th dan, an applicant must be at least 60 years old and been at 8^th dan for at least 9 years. And for 10^th dan, an applicant must be at least 70 years old and been at 9^th dan for at least 10 years. I’ll turn 69 this year. So I’m not there yet.

Also, the above is unaffected by the standard excuses we often hear. “I moved up faster than everyone else because I trained 12 hours per day, 7 days per week for a full year,” “I trained directly under Grandmaster Fred and learned secrets he’s shared with no one else but me,” or whatever. TIG and age requirements are minimums, meaning there can only be longer amounts of time, never lesser (with only one exception that I can think of).

The sole exception to the above is when someone has not tested in many years and reached minimum age. If, for example, a person was at 6^th dan for 20 years, was 60 years old, and had never tested for 7^th dan before, although he had obviously acquired great knowledge and skill. Such a person might be promoted to 7^th dan and allowed to test for 8^th dan in just another year or two.

If you add up all of the minimum TIG for promotion from 2^nd through 10^th dan, it’s a significant number of years – 54 years minimum. Anyone who moves upwards too slowly, or starts too late, will never make it legitimately to the upper dans. This is something students, instructors, and heads of organizations need to be aware.

I’m most certainly not suggesting people be moved up faster than they are qualified to do so. What I’m suggesting, rather, is that everyone needs to know what is required for promotion to their next grades. Then, it’s up to the student to keep focused on doing whatever is necessary to achieve it – work harder, work smarter, compete if necessary, gain officiating or coaching certification, travel to wherever additional information and skill can be acquired, train in supportive arts, read and view whatever they can buy or find that will expand and deepen their knowledge, and so on. For some, this will also mean honing their moral and ethical characters to help them become better people, someone their instructors or organizational heads would want to see move into leadership positions.

Let me cut this off for now. I’ll try, as promised, to present next time some positive, non-ego gratifying reasons for setting ones sights on reaching higher dans.

“When are you going to be promoted to 10th degree?” – Part II

Let me clear up something I said in my last post. The views I expressed were only meant to apply to myself. Others have a different view about what 10^th dan represents. I don’t question most who wear the highest of ranks. Red flags for me are generally those who gave it to themselves (or received it from their own students); were vastly underage for such rank (in all reputable organizations and systems I am aware, one must be at least in their mid to late 60s); had insufficient time in grade; changed instructors for each new rank (we all know how that deal works – “Your instructor doesn’t think your worthy. But if you leave him and train with me, I’ll promote you”. Part of the reason I have written on this specific subject is because I have been offered promotion to 10^th dan by some and wanted to explain my position on the matter); or clearly possessed skill and knowledge far below the minimum needed for such a lofty rank.

As I mentioned last time, I see 10^th dan as recognition that one has reached perfection in a given art or style, meaning there is no or little room left for improvement. Perhaps I’m missing something. If so, please feel free to enlighten me. My mind is always open to correction. In fact, I’ve always encouraged it. It is often our enemies more than our friends who help us the most. Friends seldom tell us where we go wrong, not wanting to hurt our feelings. Enemies have no such qualms and, as such, or often more helpful in this regard.

I’ve always preferred to keep vistas open in front of me, unknowns just around the next corner in need of discovery, curiosities capable of motivating me to continue working and moving forward. When I don’t have them, I’ll often create them for myself. I want to always have some unknown secret just around the next bend to discover. One of the things that attracted me to the martial arts and kept me working for over 55 years is the many facets to our arts – kihon, kata, bunkai, kobudo, kumite, history, philosophy, and so on. Tenth degree represents to me the pinnacle, the end of the road, and I am a long way from that destination and always will be.

As I said, this is just my position. I have no question with others, who have put in the time and achieved the skill and knowledge levels to reach 10^th dan. God bless them.

Let me stop for now, before I get into reasons for working to achieve a high dan degree. Again, thanks for reading my humble ramblings.

“When are you going to be promoted to 10th degree?”

Since being awarded ninth dan a few years ago, I frequently get asked “When are you going to be promoted to 10^th degree?” The askers are usually surprised when I tell them my answer – “Never.” Their next question is always “Why not?” People seem to think that going to 10^th dan from 9^th would only be natural. But it’s not. They find my answer, that I don’t want to be a 10^th dan, that I’m surely too high already, to be incomprehensible.

I think most secretly believe that the reason for my decision is that I’ve lost my ambition and become too lazy to attempt to move upwards. But it has nothing to do with ambition or energy levels. There are, in fact, several very logical reasons for feeling the way I do.

My original dream was to one day reach the lofty and I still think very respectable rank of 3^rd dan. Back then, there were no 27-year-old masters or grandmasters, no 12-year-old sandans, no Ultimate Supreme Intergalactic Grandmasters, no twelfth dans or anyone even claiming to be tenth dans, that we knew of. In fact, we didn’t know anyone who was higher than 5^th dan. (We had only heard that some existed in Okinawa and in some of the old warrior arts in Japan.) Senseis Nishiyama, Oshima, Demura, and other highly respected seniors were godans for years and years. Most Shotokan greats refused to go beyond 5^th dan because that had been Funakoshi Sensei’s rank. Other Japanese stylists, out of respect for their Shotokan brothers, refused to go up either. And these were great, great martial artists.

There were no shihans, kyoshis, or hanshis. We had never even heard of these titles in the early days. Now, there are so many holding them they have become essentially meaningless. Type “shihan,” “kyoshi,” or “hanshi” into the search box on Facebook and see how many appear – hundreds, perhaps thousands. Even people in arts and styles that have no relationship whatsoever to their historical origins now sport these titles. It sometimes seems that we have more of these than we do white belts, as if the belt and title system has been flipped onto its head.

I don’t mention any of this to attack the practices or status of others. I don’t look at it as many seem to do, from the standpoint of “Well, I deserve it but most of the others surely don’t. I mean, look at his kihon or techniques. That would never work in a million years!” (Another person, of course, would look at my techniques or opinions and say the same about me, finding fault – as you always can – with something or other I or anyone else did or said.) Part of the problem, and its cause, is that the unknowing public often selects an instructor or school based on rank. They don’t know one art or style or organization from another. But they know that 10^th dan is higher than 5^th dan. (They do not even suspect that the 5^th dan may be far superior to the 10^th dan.)

There are many reasons I don’t want to be a 10^th dan. First, to me, 10^th dan has always symbolized perfection within a system. (I recognize and respect that others may have a different and equally valid view.) I am far, far from perfect. In fact, I consider it to be beyond my reach. Second, there are a number of men who are far closer to perfection in skill and/or breadth and depth of knowledge, close enough to be worthy of 10^th dan – and not just in Japan or Okinawa. (Men like Hanshis Anderson, Koeppel, and Colwell, just 3 examples, have been or were at a very high level for half a century.) How can I wear the same rank as these great men? Third, my own life-long, primary instructor, Soke Takayuki Kubota, is 10^th dan. I am not even close to his levels of skill, knowledge, and/or accomplishment. Compared to him, I should be much lower in rank. There are other reasons as well but I need to cut this off for now before it runs so long no one will ever read it.

And, as always, this is just my 2 cents.

I will discuss a bit more on this subject. And, I’ll also talk next time about one very good reason to not only set your sights on reaching a high dan rank but for assisting your students in also doing so. This is a secret revealed to me by Hanshi George Anderson many years ago. It caused me to overlook my objections to high dan rank and accept them when offered.

Old IKA group photo

Sorry for the delay in getting my next post finished and uploaded. It's a story that's taking longer to explain than I had anticipated when I began writing it. In the meantime, I'm posting a photo of the old IKA gang. I talked about George Byrd and Ron Glaubitz in my last post. They are 2nd and 3rd from the left in the second row. In the front row is Tonny Tulleners (who defeated Chuck Norris 3 out of 3 times and placed 3rd in kumite at the first WUKO world championships in Tokyo in 1970), Okuyama San of Canada, Soke Kubota, and Ben Otake, who trained many great fighters both here and in Puerto Rico. (One of Ben's students was Manny San, who is pictured at the left end of the 2nd row. He tied for 3rd in kata at the '75 world championships - Sensei Nishiyam's ITKF event in LA.) There's a bunch of other great guys and karateka in the photo. I'm at the right end of the 2nd row. I don't know the year this was taken.