Five years ago I set myself the goal of earning a black belt in a martial art. I set this goal because my friend Jared, drunk on whisky one night, pointed out with uncanny perception and searing honesty, that I have no self-esteem. He told me that he hears me talk about all these things I’ve done, and that I talk about them as though I know other people think they’re really cool, and as though I think I ought to think they’re really cool, but that it’s obvious that I don’t actually believe any of it.
Which is true. I don’t. As a matter of fact, I devalue every achievement I’ve ever achieved. I swam butterfly at State in high school, but I didn’t place. I took half the prizes in the Deep South Young Writers’ Contest, but the other contestants were lame. I had a 3.7 GPA, but all I did was not skip classes. I got a masters degree, but at a university overseas that didn’t require me to take the GRE. I suck. I suck for thinking like this.
So the very point of this new goal, which I set upon returning to the US from New Zealand and setting up camp in Boston, shortly after my weekend visit with Jared, was that I would not be able to devalue the achievement of a black belt. Right? This should be a tangible goal.
And this was what I answered Sunday at the black belt test, in a sort of rambling, round-about way, when one of the senior ranking black belts asked me what getting my black belt would mean to me. The question was asked after the test, and I was feeling remarkably confident, having done far better than I had anticipated. In fact, I felt proud. A sensation I’m not very accustomed to. As I answered the question, I felt as though I had achieved my goal just as I had set it, no shifting bars, and no slippage this time.
So it’s ironic that tonight Mr. Hwang managed to raise the bar on my goal after I thought I’d achieved it. He told me that although I may have tested well, and earned my black belt, that I am not as good as I was a year ago when I was testing for red belt. And that that’s the reason he didn’t want me to test yet.
I’m sorry I disappointed you, I said, with eyes on my feet, feeling the corners of my mouth twitch.
No, you didn’t disappoint me, he said. You did fine. It’s just that the standards of the school have been decreasing over the years.
What a fucking bummer it was to hear that.
Because it’s not about the belt, and it’s not about how high my wheel kick is, or how much power and snap is in my form. It’s not about the taekwondo. Or the standards of the school, for that matter. It’s about what it represents. In my own head.
So it seams that taking – and passing – that black belt test wasn’t the achievement of my goal after all. Whether I let that comment ruin it for me is.
Results not yet in.
