I practice the way of karate as a way of teaching, one inspired by Okakura Kakuzō, who wrote, "Those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others."

To me, good teaching means recognizing the greatness of little things in students, which could be a young person learning to spell or an older one learning to punch.

Then Okakura's test for a good teacher is whether they feel the littleness of greatness in themselves. I once participated in a workshop in which several senior sociology professors proclaimed, unbidden, that they were good teachers. They failed the Okakura test, just like the academics who post accolades from their students on social media, seeking to have others feel the greatness they already feel in themselves.

However, the late Furuya Kenshō Sensei passed that test. He put up a sign over the gate to his exquisite Los Angeles aikido dojo that read 萬拙庵 bansetsu-an, which he translated as "the retreat of the untalented teacher." When I noted that at the workshop, one of the sociologists burst out, "Bullshit!"

Such is the chasm between him and Okakura, between the profession of sociology and the avocation of karate-dō.

I am content with my switch from the former to the latter, and with trying, every day, to do the best I can as an untalented teacher.