Ode to Clubhouse Jiu Jitsu
This is a photo of Noah & I with our jiu jitsu coach, Kyle.
Noah started BJJ when he was living in NYC, and Kyle (who is also from Maine) was his coach. When Kyle moved back to Maine and started teaching in Portland, Noah was working for both of the days Clubhouse Jiu Jitsu (the name of Kyle’s program) met. So I decided to go on my own. And I went on my own for the first six months or so, and felt really comfortable doing so, despite the fact that I was often the only women and a white belt. I had gone on and off to other gyms with Noah, so I *sort of* knew what BJJ was about, but Kyle’s belief in me, and his teaching style, absolutely hooked me on jiu jitsu. The way Kyle teaches is excellent for the scattered art brain. At other gyms I struggled to learn and improve because I could not remember names of positions, and it just felt like no matter how many times I drilled moves when it came to actually executing them I never could. It really is a metaphor for life — you can prepare as hard as you possibly can for something, but when the time comes to actually do the thing life throws you a wildcard and it all happens in a way you can’t predict. So it’s much more useful to spend your time getting comfortable rolling with the punches than to spend your time learning how to combat any number of possible scenarios. Kyle teaches the former. He gets his students to trust their own intuition. With Kyle, we learn only through live rounds - no out-of-context drilling. So now my body can just flow with anything presented to it rather than try to control any given positioning or situation I find myself in. I hope to someday treat my life like this too and relinquish any sort of control I think I have.
I’ve always thought that maybe BJJ would be good for survivors of SA. Obviously it depends on the person, but it is a safe environment (gym depending, though I haven’t been to many gyms where I haven’t felt safe) not only to learn to defend oneself, but also to not panic when you are uncomfortable. It allows you to take control over your body, because you can tap out at any point you feel unsafe.
And it’s not always fun. I’ve cried at most every single gym I’ve trained at. It’s a specific type of panic attack. It’s the feeling of being an outsider, like everyone is better and bigger and stronger than me, and then on top of that I get choked out or something and it triggers a real extreme reaction where I can’t stop crying. I get personally offended by someone submitting me (when they trap you in a position you can’t escape, a position that will injure you if you don’t tap out). I like to think that now I am a blue belt there won’t be more tears, but I know that’s not true. There’s always bad days, days where having a big sweaty man crush me just makes me break out into tears. But that’s okay, because there’s more days where I feel powerful defending myself against that big sweaty man. Also, at most of the gyms I’ve gone to, those big sweaty men are total sweethearts.
The female camaraderie around BJJ is so strong. I was the only woman at Kyle’s class for quite some time, but now there’s a lot more regular ladies that come to the class. And whenever there’s a new woman at the gym, we feel an instant kinship with one another. I think a lot of women start BJJ with the intention of defending themselves. And while men may be joining for the same reason, it just feels more determined from the women’s perspective. No one ever told us it was okay to fight, it’s a part of male socialization. We have to empower ourselves to fight. That, paired with a woman’s size disadvantage, makes BJJ yet another activity we have to work doubly as hard to excel in. So there’s a real respect there amongst the ladies. And that feeling of outsiderness that has made me cry at BJJ gyms is always slightly diminished the more women there are in the class. There are also a bunch of free women’s classes at a lot of gyms. I’m always going to try to recruit more women to BJJ, because it’s done wonders for my self confidence, as well as for my psychical and emotional strength, and I want everyone to feel this! On top of that, it’s good exercise, and it’s just fun.
BJJ is a grappling sport. So you’re mostly rolling on the ground, getting into pretzel positions with your partner and either trying to escape/defend, or submit/offend. Noah likes to say that all fights lead to jiu jitsu. Because you will end up on the ground in real life combat. So you have to know how to get someone off of you, how to escape. In BJJ, like life, you have moments where you’re on top and moments where you feel utterly hopeless. But in jiu jitsu you always can start again, and you’re likely to do better the next time if you can stay calm; get comfy being un-comfy. It’s so hard to explain what BJJ is to people who have never done it before. It honestly took me over a year to feel like I sort of spoke the language and knew what was going on. Before that I was just thrown in blind. I don’t know if that was just me or if that is how a lot of people feel about it, but I always encourage new people to just keep coming back. And even though I sort of know what’s going on now, I will always unlock knew levels and feel like I actually had NO clue up until that very point. It’s a sport of endless learning. I hope BJJ is something I do for the rest of my life.
