Hello students & parents,
Kids classes will be starting Sanda (Chinese kickboxing sparring) classes in April 2025. This month parents can purchase their child's sparring gear; links will be updated on our school store by end of this week. Parents will also have to sign an additional waiver for their child to ensure everything is understand in regards to the nature of sparring; Shifu will email these waivers separately.
When it's available, please head to the school store and purchase your child's undershirt/shorts, as well as sparring gear. Be mindful the shorts used in Sanda sparring can be exposing, so your child is completely fine to wear long sport underwear/shorts under the Sanda shorts, as well as any additional coverage beneath the tank-top. While there are other highly affordable sources to purchase uniforms, such as AliExpress/Alibaba, please purchase at your own risk. The uniform and gear must be RED.
Happy Birthday to Mike, Amelia and Li Jie this month!
Here are the focuses this month:
Morning Taiji: Taiji 28 (No Class 03/31/2025)
Evening Taiji: Taiji 28 (No Class 03/31/2025)
Beginner Gongfu: Lian Huan Ba Gun (No Class 03/31/2025)
Kid's Gongfu: Review/Beginning fighting techniques
Advanced Gongfu: Review month
Pushing Through Limits and Failure
This month's words-of-wisdom will be presented by Disciple Li Jie, who returned from her pilgrimage to China awhile ago and will be the first to test for her Brown Sash in the school. Her growth and persistence in gongfu has been nothing short of incredible. Enjoy~
In October of 2024, I did one of the scariest things in my life; I decided to join a group of 9 other USAWKF (USA Wushu KungFu Federation) members on a trip to China as a cultural exchange experience. While I was absolutely honored to join this small group of Kung Fu and Taiji practitioners, it made the list of one of the hardest things I have put myself through. Throughout the trip I needed to constantly push through my mental and physical comfort zones, which taught me more about myself than I expected.
Going in, I don’t think any of us really knew what we were getting ourselves into. Me least of all, I think, as this was not only my first time outside of America, but also my first in-person Kung Fu competition. But even beyond the competition, that first week was filled with other surprises that would test me in unexpected ways.
I remember walking into the competition arena the day we arrived as they were still setting up. That’s when we all noticed one of the large backdrops that would sit behind the judges. On this banner was the name of our program “Chinese and American Youth Wushu Elites Training Camp”. That’s when it hit me. This was real, and it was a much bigger deal than I had ever anticipated.
We had three or four meetings that week, all with very important and impressive people including Secretary General of the IWUF (International Wushu Federation) Zhang Yuping, Jet Li’s master Coach Wu Bin, and two of the other children that performed for President Nixon alongside Jet Li in 1974, Cui Yahui and Lu Yan. As it turns out, our cultural exchange came 50 years after the “first debut of modern Wushu in the west”. We also had a wonderful meeting with the heads of the School of Physical Education at Zhengzhou University and got to watch the performances of four Kung Fu majors (and subsequently share a wonderful meal with them), as well as two other meetings with similar subsets of people from the local committees and IWUF.
All of this came before the competition itself. And this wouldn’t be so bad except that we were frequently asked to also perform at these meetings. I don’t think I have to explain to you how nerve wracking it was to perform in front of such distinguished people who have been doing Kung Fu for much longer than I have. Now, one thing that I have always known about myself, but reared its ugly head, was how much I dislike being noticed— and how much I do not care for performing in front of others. Our leader, Li Shudong, offered me every chance to sit it out, and while every cell in my body wanted to, I pushed through the anxiety and discomfort, and did it anyway. So to say I was mentally exhausted before the competition even started is an understatement.
Going into the competition on Sunday, my morale was already low. I had already spent months and months practicing. I didn’t expect to win, not at all. All I wanted was to do my best, because I knew that 4 years doing Kung Fu is a very short period of time, especially compared to the years and hours that are far more common in China. While I didn’t compete against any Chinese nationals, the level of competition was still high among the other foreigners. Because if you’re going to be travelling to China to compete, you’re probably pretty good.
However, despite not expecting anything, when I came in last in my division (3rd of 3) on Saturday, I surprised myself with how devastated I was. It wasn’t as if I had messed up during my form or anything like that. I know it wasn’t perfect, but I was genuinely okay with how I performed. So, why did I get so upset?
It’s because I let this one small setback feed the inner voice some of us struggle with. I let it feed the thought that I wasn’t good enough, that even my best is still the worst. After everything, my morale was rock bottom. I wanted to sit out the next day. I didn’t want to return to the competition and put myself through that again. But once again, I stubbornly pushed through. And on day two, I came away with a silver metal (placing 3rd out of 7). While this did help bolster my morale, those feelings of inadequacy followed me into the next week.
At this point we had been in China for 6 days and my immune system was not having it. I had been having to sleep sitting upright for a few days at that point because I was so congested with what I can only assume was allergies. Our schedule started at 7AM with breakfast, and by 9, we would start our first training session of the day with a few of the senior students on the performance team. We would usually end the first session between 11 AM and 11:45, depending. Then we would have a few hours of rest, and our second session would start at 3 and last until around 5:30.
Now, if it isn’t quite obvious, that means we were doing between 4 and 6 hours of training per day, which was around twice what I would get in a week at home. This was absolutely exhausting. None of us had the energy for anything else. We would literally wake up, train, take a nap in the middle of the day after lunch, train, and then pass out after dinner. If I thought my morale was low after the tournament, it was nothing next to day two of training.
A lot of things we did are just not things I have much experience with: different jumps and kicks and movements I don’t do frequently. Trying these new techniques and movements are exhausting on their own, but Coach Huang always had us do the most high energy activities right at the end, leaving us beyond exhausted. And let me tell you, he really enjoyed seeing us struggle. He was our joyful tormentor, smiling and laughing as he asked us to do the hardest things I have ever done in my life. After only the first day, every muscle in my body was exhausted and burning with that lactic acid.
And then my day of reckoning… October 26th. On this day, we decided to switch it up a little bit and visit Songshan. Songshan is one of five sacred mountain ranges in China, and the one which houses Dengfeng and the Shaolin temple. It is made up of two mountains, Shaoshi which houses the Shaolin temple, and Taishi, where the main peak is and what they proposed we climb.
We all knew from the beginning this was a trap. The way the coaches would look at eachother and laugh a little when they mentioned hiking Songshan was… almost diabolical now that I look back at it. We knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was not prepared for the mental and physical torture I would endure that day. This is the day that I found out where my limits were.
My poor exhausted body decided it was a great day to give me a mild asthma attack before we even truly started. Literally 30 minutes into the walk, my lungs had already given up. At this point, I was so exhausted and broken down that once I finally caught up to the rest of the group (who were ready to move on the second I got there, thanks guys) I was crying. I was so frustrated with myself that I was so tired only 30 minutes in. A few of my teammates told me that maybe I should sit it out, just wait at the “entrance” to the trailhead for Coach Huang.
I refused. I was not going to give up. I hadn’t given up yet despite the pain, the exhaustion, the stuffy nose, and the low morale, so I wasn’t going to give up now. So I hobbled along at the pace I could handle (ending up way behind everybody else), but I was lucky enough to have my roommate Gigi and one of the young coaches, Haihui, with me. Haihui was so kind, allowing me to take things at my own pace and doing his best to encourage me despite our language barrier. He admitted it was also his first time climbing Songshan and said he was grateful he could take it at a slower pace than his classmates. I’m not sure how much I believe him, but I appreciate him regardless. We climbed that mountain for two hours. I have never been so exhausted in my entire life. I have never climbed so many stairs, nor have I ever seen so many stairs, and I really hope I never have to ever again. Songhsan haunts my dreams to this day.
I didn’t make it to the top like most of my team. By the time we needed to turn around, Haihui said we had probably another half hour to an hour left, but I was spent and it was getting quite dark and stormy. I remember how bad my legs hurt as I sat down for that final time, when I finally told Haihui that I could go no further.
As I looked out over the illuminated city below, I cried again. I had pushed on way beyond what my body was ready for. I had given everything and still, I could not reach the top with everybody else. It was just one of a long line of things my brain told me was a “failure”. Up to that point, I had failed many times. On day two, I had to sit out the morning session because I was in pain, could barely breathe, and was not ready to be scrutinized by the Taolu coach. In the afternoon session, I had to dip out after the second lap around the soccer field because my asthma decided to show up, when I sprinted as fast as my legs could possibly take me and still came in last, when I flubbed an attempted front walk-over so hard I had to sit down for fifteen minutes because I had rattled my brain, feeling left behind on forms I was learning because I was too shy and introverted to speak up and ask for help learning something new.
But now, looking back at it all, I can accept these “failures” for what they are. It was me pushing my boundaries and breaking through previous limits. Because despite everything, I still showed up. I did everything I could, and when I reached my absolute limit, I learned how to take that step back and admit that I had to slow down.
After all, knowing when to slow down and when to take a step back is just as important as knowing when you can push forward another step. Eventually, you will find your limit, whether that be physical or mental, and it's okay to admit it. The important thing is that when things get hard, you don’t give up. You may need a second to mourn like I did on those stairs on Songshan. But after I was done, I picked myself back up, and I walked back down those stairs, and the next day, I showed up for training, and gave all I had to give.
Looking back now, I may be a little disappointed in my performance, but I no longer feel that I failed. I am able to see my struggles for what they were; growth. And on the days when I am struggling with something difficult, mentally or physically, I think “Well, at least it’s not Songshan.”
Li Jie
HOUSEKEEPING ITEMS
For those that keep their uniforms at the studio, it's best practice to take your uniform home often to wash and clean it, especially at the end of the month. For adult classes, you're more than welcome to hang your uniform on the clothing rack in the dressing room to dry out after training.
Reminder that all sash testing fees are due and automatically paid on the night of your/your child's testing, in case you see any charges on your card regarding that. Higher sashes require more testing time, hence the higher price, as well as invited guests to help with judging. These are normally charged the night of or after testing and also cover your sash for when you pass. Fee schedule is below: - White to Orange - $20 - Green - $30 - Blue - $50 - Red - $80 - Brown - $100 - Black - TBD
SCHOOL SCHEDULE
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