Here’s a good question: “What’s in a color (belt) or rank?” The usual answer is “Whatever you place into it.” Whenever we have one of our rather infrequent promotion times, resulting in new ranks and (sometimes) new color belts, I often have thoughts about this topic rise up in me. So, if some of this sounds familiar, I’ve probably said this to many of you before… I just thought I’d finally put it down in writing.

When I was in the Air Force, I recall that the professional officer corps had a ranking system that was a true pyramid. At the bottom were all of the young 2nd/1st Lieutenants and Captains. Then, as one went up the pyramid, there were far less Majors, Lt Colonels… even less Colonels and far fewer General officers. While this may seem a common sense arrangement to everybody, there are certain requirements in the system that are not apparent to those outside of the Services that act to whittle down the much larger base of incoming junior officers to those few who get to wear the star(s) of command. There is a certain amount of natural attrition within the military ranks (those like myself who never opted to make the military a career), but not nearly enough to account for the pyramid’s rise to a sharp point. What basically happens is that one needs to pass periodic promotions or risks having to leave the Service…simply, an “Up Or Out” system. The other two parts of the system are mandatory job/location changes every 3-4 years of the officer’s career, and the need to possess an advanced degree(s) by the time one is promotable to Major. Understand that this mandatory job change every few years doesn’t merely mean reporting to another duty station…. it always entails a more challenging, higher level function or a career-broadening assignment, with increasingly larger groups of folks to command. In other words, you could be the very best 2nd LT in the Service at what you do (say there are a dozen folks in your section) providing some kind of professional service…. but unlike the outside world, and to a lesser degree, the enlisted ranks, you don’t have the luxury of remaining at this level of expertise. You’re not allowed to remain at any of the junior officer ranks forever nor stay in the same job, no matter how excellent you are at the position. In other words, the system forces one to continue growing upwards and broadening his/her knowledge and leadership skills, and if you fail to get promoted beyond the level of Captain, you’re out. On the other hand, when I was in private industry, it wasn’t uncommon for a good/efficient employee to spend his/her entire career in one job or one department. A first or second level manager could remain so for many, many years, assuming competence in the job and there wasn’t any downsizing or reorganization.

So what has this to do with karate-do? Well, when I first joined Shotokan, I had a chip on my shoulder, having no interest in getting promoted. I believed that attaining rank and testing were pretty meaningless to a trainee, as long as one practiced to the best of his/her ability. So, over a period of two years, I focused on becoming the best white belt I could, and along the way, also picked up combinations of techniques and katas that were normally saved for higher ranking students. At the two-year point, my patient friends and sempais declined to teach me more unless I took a promotion exam. One of my sempais took me on the side and told me that if I remained a white belt, I would eventually get stuck in a rut and he could see me quitting karate-do one day, still a white belt. I thought it over and finally agreed that maybe I should try taking an exam. Nine months and three exams later, I had skipped various ranks and been promoted to sankyu (brown belt). This wasn’t due to any great ability…I had simply been training (sometimes daily) for nearly three years, at several dojos simultaneously, during those years. I had always trained hard, but noticed that from the time I finally decided to train with a focus on solid improvements to reach the next level (so that I could learn even more), I got better faster, and actually made the jump from white belt to shodan less than two years after taking my first exam. While I certainly benefited hugely from the many hours of training as a white belt, I also realized that my knowledge/skill curve quickly ramped up, once there were tangible objectives and goals in mind. In other words, there was a huge difference between what I learned and how I trained when I was trying to be the best white belt I could be versus looking ahead to black belt. Reminds me of that saying, “Which would you rather be?..the Best of the Worst, or the Worst of the Best?”

Years later, one of my friends in another dojo would doggedly come to training every week and do the same basic workout in every class. He said he was happy to remain a green belt…and did so for nearly ten years! He trained hard, got a good workout…though I couldn’t really discern any real improvement in his techniques during the time I knew him. In addition, he never learned more than Heian Yondan nor any kihon above the green belt level. I’m not sure when or why he made the decision not to test above the 6kyu rank. In retrospect, I believe he did himself a disservice by not pursuing a purple belt or beyond…. whether he could actually achieve it or not. I believe that even though one might reap the benefits that come from hard training and seeking excellence in what one does, the process of lowering one’s visions or expectations of oneself, can actually end up limiting and crushing our own potential. My friend never did test or rise above his faded green belt and eventually did quit training altogether. I remember another acquaintance, an older man in his fifties, who despite dealing with the disadvantages of a long-ago bout with polio (he trained with a sneaker on one foot) had been able to reach his ikkyu brown belt…years before I ever met him. He had set some kind of informal record by attempting, and failing his shodan exam, something like nine times (dan exams in that association were only given once or twice a year). I remember the joyous day he finally passed the dan exam, a great achievement and example of perseverance…only to quit training in karate-do shortly thereafter.

Let’s see, a two-year white belt…. a ten-year green belt…a brand new shodan…what did they have in common? I think that each lacked short-term objectives, longer-term goals, a vision of what their training represented on a grander scale. My green belt friend never did find a vision, and I think, after some ten years, realized that he was going nowhere, and quit. By contrast, the new shodan had possessed a real goal; to reach the black belt, no matter how many times he failed…until he finally made it, and in the process of reaching this limited goal, lost his reason for training and left. I think if my friends hadn’t finally convinced me to start testing, I might have gone down the same path, eventually leaving karate-do as one of the finest white belts around, but never having even scratched the surface of learning what karate-do had to offer (thank God for friends and sempais).

With all that said, it’s far more common to see students who are totally focused on getting promoted or reaching a higher color belt or have the black belt as their ultimate goal and still be on the wrong track. One can focus so much on ranks that one can lose sight of improving/learning for the pure joy and fulfillment of improving/learning. One can not only lose the joy of the journey, but also forget that a journey usually means that you’re going somewhere, to someplace, with a destination in mind. Even then, one can focus so much on one’s own self-development and progress that you can lose sight of the real value you bring to the world by serving as an example, sharing with and helping others around you.

So, what’s in a color belt, a higher rank, a promotion, an exam? Just what we said at the start of this rambling piece…”Whatever you place into it”…if you place nothing into it, it is worth nothing. If, however, it represents just one milestone in a much greater vision, a much higher expectation you have of yourself, if it’s a marker for improving your skills, knowledge, spirit, and character, if it’s a flag for upraising, broadening and deepening, if it’s a means to help you to help others…then it can be a most valuable tool in getting you out of a rut, and into your Walk.