I Can’t and I Won’t Are Not the Same ProblemWhen a student is struggling with something, one of the easiest mistakes an instructor can make is assuming they simply aren't trying hard enough. Sometimes they aren't. But sometimes they genuinely can't do what you're asking them to do yet. Those are two very different problems. And if you treat can't like won't, you can make things worse. First, I Want to Know What I'm Looking AtIf a student is having trouble with a movement, I usually start at the base. Is there something in the movement that looks physically restricted or concerning? If there is, I stop pushing that movement. If the basic movement looks sound, I'll start checking range of motion and resistance. Is the limitation physical? Is it mental? Where does the student start holding back? Beginners especially can be interesting because many of them have more trouble using more power than less. They're afraid of doing it wrong. And honestly, starting conservatively is usually good advice. Learn the technique. Get comfortable. Build toward full speed and power. Usually. But not always. If I'm trying to find out how fast a kid can run, I don't begin by telling them to run slowly. Sometimes I need to see what they can actually do first. Sometimes I Tell Them, “Hard.”Give me a paddle or shield in a controlled drill and I might tell a beginner: “Hard.” I want to see what they can actually do in that drill. Sometimes they surprise themselves. They hit it properly for the first time and you can almost see the thought on their face: Wait. I did that? That's when I'll say: “Good. One more time. Do it like that.” Sometimes I'll play with them a little. “Why did you do that? What did you change?” I already know they didn't do anything wrong. It's word play. I'm trying to make them notice what just happened. Because that first experience matters. If the first thing I teach is, “Touch it like a feather,” sometimes feather-touch becomes their reference point for a very long time. I'd rather let them discover what the upper end feels like when the drill allows for it. Then we can refine it. Their Body May Understand Before They Can Explain ItSometimes I'll ask what changed and the student can't tell me. That's fine. They may not have the words yet. So I'll give them a clue. “That one was a little crooked. What happens if you straighten it out just a bit?” Then we try again. I think of it as the Goldilocks range. There's a minimum and a maximum for whatever I'm trying to get—speed, power, range, structure. Too little and it doesn't work. Too much and something else starts to suffer. Somewhere in between is what we're looking for. And once they find it? Again. Again. Try it in the next round. I don't necessarily need a student to explain the lesson back to me. Sometimes I know they understand because they look like they agree with it. Their posture changes. Their mood changes. Their movement changes. They found something that works, and naturally they want to keep doing it. But Sometimes They Can—and They Still Won'tThat's a different coaching problem. Once I know they can do it, sometimes I'll change the environment. Maybe I have them demonstrate beside a higher-rank student. Maybe they demonstrate with me. That's pressure. A demonstration raises the stakes. The student knows their effort is visible. I don't use that to embarrass them. I've already seen that they can do it. Sometimes I want to see what happens when there's a little more pressure. Sometimes it does. Sometimes that pressure produces exactly the technique I had been asking for. Now we both know. You can do it. What I do with that information depends on the student. Sometimes I'll point it out: “See? You just proved you could do it.” Other times: “Good. Do that again.” Either one can work. It depends on the student and what I know about them. Sometimes the Correct Response Is to Back Off“Won't” also doesn't mean I push harder forever. Sometimes I back off and revisit it next class. Sometimes I change the drill. Sometimes I redirect the student or have someone else work with them. Their next response tells me something too. If a student cries, that's a hard stop for me. It doesn't happen often. Other students won't cry, but you can see the dejection in their face and body language. At that point, continuing to push may no longer be teaching anything useful. Change direction. Sometimes the best coaching decision is to leave the problem alone for now and come back to it another day. Safety Is DifferentIf someone's behaviour is affecting the safety or well-being of the other students, then we're no longer just dealing with can't or won't. We're dealing with discipline. If I see the problem happen, I address it immediately. If I can see a pattern developing, I may coach it between rounds: “I noticed you're doing A. Try doing B instead. Let's compare them and see which one is more effective.” Then they try it. And if B works? Again. Again. Take it into the next round. Whether the lesson took encouragement, pressure, redirection or discipline, I don't want the student leaving with the idea that the struggle was personal. The Student Needs to Know I'm Not the EnemyAfter a student has had a rough class, and I think it will help them, sometimes I'll make a point of recognizing what they accomplished in front of everyone. Something like: “John was having a tough time getting this drill done. It wasn't because he wasn't trying. He just wasn't doing A. Once we solved that, everything flowed.” The newer student gets a lesson from that. The experienced students get a reminder because they usually know exactly what was happening. And the student who struggled gets reminded of something too. I may have pushed them. I may have corrected them. I may even have made them uncomfortable. But I wasn't against them. That distinction matters. Because “I can't” and “I won't” are not the same problem. And good teaching starts with figuring out which one you're actually looking at. If you're wondering what this kind of coaching might look like with your child, you're welcome to come by and see how we teach. We'd be happy to have them try a class with us. |
After 35 years of teaching martial arts, I’ve learned that the lessons don’t always come from the instructor. What worked, what didn’t, what changed my mind, and what students and parents have taught me along the way.
The Moment You Stop Watching the Class There is a point when a parent stops coming inside. At first, they stay for everything. Shoes come off. Coat comes off. Belt gets adjusted. Somebody asks where to stand. Somebody forgets where to stand even though we covered that about thirty seconds ago. Then one day the child gets out of the car, looks back and says: “Bye, Mom.” Or: “Bye, Dad.” And disappears through the front door. The first few times, the parent usually laughs. Eventually, they stop...
The First Class Back Is Not a Test After a long break, students rarely come back exactly where they left off. Timing is usually off. Their circadian rhythm may be off too. Summer does that. Later nights. Later mornings. Different schedules. Less structure. And for a lot of kids, less physical activity. So if I take a student who has been off for most of July and August and immediately throw them into complicated poomsae, hard sparring drills, burpees and push-ups, it is probably going to be...
Changing the Drill Doesn’t Mean Lowering the Standard Parents sometimes want change from their child. Listen the first time. Pay attention. Stop doing this. Start doing that. And when the change does not happen, the natural reaction can be to repeat the instruction. Sometimes louder. Sometimes more often. I understand that. I do it in martial arts too. But over the years I have learned something: If the student is not changing, sometimes I have to change what I am doing first. That does not...