Here's the unfortunate reality of things: I'm never going to be as good of a Longsword fencer as I want to be.
This isn't self-depreciation, nor am beating myself up. It's just a simple fact. I became involved in HEMA far too late in life to reach my full potential, and I now have too many limitations keeping me back from the highest pinnacles I'd wish to reach. I may yet become a good fencer, I will definitely continue to become a better fencer until I'm too old and my bones are too brittle to fight anymore, but I simply won't be as good as I'd want to be.
But to a certain degree, this fact doesn't really matter because I have the joy of teaching others who will, I have no doubt, grow to become far better fencers than I ever could have been.
Teaching is, like so many things related to HEMA, entirely up to the individual. Some want to do it and others do not. Some enjoy passing on what they know while others don't care for it; there are many really skilled fighters who have no wish whatsoever to teach others what they know. Some just don't know how to teach regardless of how well they fight; there are some who are so naturally gifted that they'd make terrible teachers because they don't know how to explain skills that come immediately to them.
So today's blog is really going to be written from the perspective of a teacher and more or less for other teachers. It's not meant to convince anyone that they should teach others. However, if they choose to after reading this then I'd be OK with that.
There is a distinct pleasure that comes with taking someone who has no skill or knowledge of fencing at all, giving them the factual information about how to fight, drilling them to help them improve their skill, and then watching them grow as fighters. It is somewhat vicarious in nature, but no less satisfying. We all know the distinct pleasure of connecting with a perfect Zwerch for ourselves, but to watch a student of yours do it is enjoyable in a totally different yet just as intense way.
One of the particularly enjoyable things about teaching is helping a student overcome something they're just not getting. While I'm sure this is true in the teaching of any subject because fencing is such a physical endeavor there are two things the teacher has to see to, the body and the brain. A student might understand something intellectually but not physically, and it is in overcoming that physical block that so much pleasure comes in teaching. When a student just can't seem to get how to make a certain move, and you help them to synthesize their body and brain, it is distinctly satisfying and reason for a moment of pride in your work.
Another thing to enjoy about being a teacher is that you will forever be the one who first influenced the student, and so they will always reflect a little of you in their future fencing. If you have a particular style, or a philosophy of fighting in general, or specific tricks you pass on to the student, they will always use them to one degree or another.
After all, this is why the German school is often called the Lichtenauer Tradition and not the Ringeck Tradition, or the Dobringer, or the Kal, or the von Danzig, or anyone else. Lichtenauer taught (we presume) Ringeck, who then honored those teachings. It is why the name Lichtenauer lives on today long after the man himself died.
Our teachings really do live on forever in our students.
However, with this fact also comes extreme responsibility. You are indeed the first teaching to influence your students, so your first job is to not screw them up right out of the gate. If you teach them falsely, whether it is intentional or not, you make it much more difficult for them to develop the skills they need to practice HEMA, which dishonors them as students and our art as a whole. It also means someone else later will have to come along to clean up your mess, or even worse, that the student will just drop out now being convinced all HEMA teachers are complete quacks.
But in the end, I think being a teacher makes us better fighters ourselves, as well having a deeper appreciation of the art that HEMA is. Historically being a fighter was only ever one part of being a weapon-wielder: While not everyone became a recognized "master" nor did they start a school, most fighters eventually taught someone.
I feel like teaching allows us to tap into the larger historical context of using a weapon, and to then grow as a fighter because you now need to clarify in your own mind what the various techniques are. Nothing forces you to understand a concept on an intellectual level and to be able to perform it well physically, more than trying to demonstrate it to others.
With this also comes an increased demand to study and know your sources so you can be certain your teaching is historically valid. It also requires you to develop the intellectual honesty to sometimes say, "I'm not certain about that," then to go to your source to find out. This is a great way to defeat the arrogance that might make us believe because we know a lot of things we know everything, which clearly we do not.
So as for me, I will always love teaching these fighting arts. As a fencer myself I will continue to train, learn, drill, and aspire to be the best I can be, but I will also find a distinct pleasure in watching my students grow to eventually become better than me. I wonder if Lichtenauer ever felt that as well?
Have you ever taught anyone a HEMA-related skill? Do you teach classes or one at a time? Is there one art on which you focus or are you an across-the-board HEMA instructor? What do you do to make sure you're teaching the art properly?
OK, everyone, stay loose and train hard!
-- Scott
This isn't self-depreciation, nor am beating myself up. It's just a simple fact. I became involved in HEMA far too late in life to reach my full potential, and I now have too many limitations keeping me back from the highest pinnacles I'd wish to reach. I may yet become a good fencer, I will definitely continue to become a better fencer until I'm too old and my bones are too brittle to fight anymore, but I simply won't be as good as I'd want to be.
But to a certain degree, this fact doesn't really matter because I have the joy of teaching others who will, I have no doubt, grow to become far better fencers than I ever could have been.
Teaching is, like so many things related to HEMA, entirely up to the individual. Some want to do it and others do not. Some enjoy passing on what they know while others don't care for it; there are many really skilled fighters who have no wish whatsoever to teach others what they know. Some just don't know how to teach regardless of how well they fight; there are some who are so naturally gifted that they'd make terrible teachers because they don't know how to explain skills that come immediately to them.
So today's blog is really going to be written from the perspective of a teacher and more or less for other teachers. It's not meant to convince anyone that they should teach others. However, if they choose to after reading this then I'd be OK with that.
There is a distinct pleasure that comes with taking someone who has no skill or knowledge of fencing at all, giving them the factual information about how to fight, drilling them to help them improve their skill, and then watching them grow as fighters. It is somewhat vicarious in nature, but no less satisfying. We all know the distinct pleasure of connecting with a perfect Zwerch for ourselves, but to watch a student of yours do it is enjoyable in a totally different yet just as intense way.
One of the particularly enjoyable things about teaching is helping a student overcome something they're just not getting. While I'm sure this is true in the teaching of any subject because fencing is such a physical endeavor there are two things the teacher has to see to, the body and the brain. A student might understand something intellectually but not physically, and it is in overcoming that physical block that so much pleasure comes in teaching. When a student just can't seem to get how to make a certain move, and you help them to synthesize their body and brain, it is distinctly satisfying and reason for a moment of pride in your work.
Another thing to enjoy about being a teacher is that you will forever be the one who first influenced the student, and so they will always reflect a little of you in their future fencing. If you have a particular style, or a philosophy of fighting in general, or specific tricks you pass on to the student, they will always use them to one degree or another.
After all, this is why the German school is often called the Lichtenauer Tradition and not the Ringeck Tradition, or the Dobringer, or the Kal, or the von Danzig, or anyone else. Lichtenauer taught (we presume) Ringeck, who then honored those teachings. It is why the name Lichtenauer lives on today long after the man himself died.
Our teachings really do live on forever in our students.
However, with this fact also comes extreme responsibility. You are indeed the first teaching to influence your students, so your first job is to not screw them up right out of the gate. If you teach them falsely, whether it is intentional or not, you make it much more difficult for them to develop the skills they need to practice HEMA, which dishonors them as students and our art as a whole. It also means someone else later will have to come along to clean up your mess, or even worse, that the student will just drop out now being convinced all HEMA teachers are complete quacks.
But in the end, I think being a teacher makes us better fighters ourselves, as well having a deeper appreciation of the art that HEMA is. Historically being a fighter was only ever one part of being a weapon-wielder: While not everyone became a recognized "master" nor did they start a school, most fighters eventually taught someone.
I feel like teaching allows us to tap into the larger historical context of using a weapon, and to then grow as a fighter because you now need to clarify in your own mind what the various techniques are. Nothing forces you to understand a concept on an intellectual level and to be able to perform it well physically, more than trying to demonstrate it to others.
With this also comes an increased demand to study and know your sources so you can be certain your teaching is historically valid. It also requires you to develop the intellectual honesty to sometimes say, "I'm not certain about that," then to go to your source to find out. This is a great way to defeat the arrogance that might make us believe because we know a lot of things we know everything, which clearly we do not.
So as for me, I will always love teaching these fighting arts. As a fencer myself I will continue to train, learn, drill, and aspire to be the best I can be, but I will also find a distinct pleasure in watching my students grow to eventually become better than me. I wonder if Lichtenauer ever felt that as well?
Have you ever taught anyone a HEMA-related skill? Do you teach classes or one at a time? Is there one art on which you focus or are you an across-the-board HEMA instructor? What do you do to make sure you're teaching the art properly?
OK, everyone, stay loose and train hard!
-- Scott
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