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Can you please help on this black belt essay i have to write?

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apparently, before i get a black belt, i have to write an essay. Even though i won't get one until June next year, I was working with a rough draft. so, please, any criticism is invited

A Black Belt is defined in the dictionary as: “belt showing skill in martial arts: a belt worn by somebody who has reached the highest level of skill in a martial art such as judo or karate.”

Obviously, whoever wrote that needs to be fired, immediately. (Or at least be very, very guilty.) Yes, a black belt shows the ranking of our skills, but for those who actually worked to get it, it means so much more.

To me, I guess my opinion on a black belt varied as I grew older. At five years old I was always saying how one day I was going to a “karate person, and I’ll be good at it!” But, time goes on, and it was four years later until I actually was involved in any martial art. Then, a couple years later, the meaning changed. A black belt was something as tempting as an ice cream sundae; I really, really, wanted it, but I had to work my way through dinner first.

White and Yellow belt: gosh, it all seems like a faded memory to me; like when your mom tells her friends about the cute things you did in the bathtub when you were a baby, and all you remember are the bubbles in the water. All I can remember are the kicks and punches I learned.

Orange belt was easy enough. Mrs. Robertson was helpful as I started Club TKD, which was a huge change from training with my classmates at Hodge. By the time I was purple belt; I was absolutely in love with Tae Kwon Do; sometimes even obsessive. As I watched the older kids in the class; watching how powerful, awesome, and unbelievably great they were at what they did, I noticed something.

They had belts the color of blue, brown, and red; the higher colors. On the other hand, I had the lowly purple. It was right then that I decided to be like them; I wanted to prove my place to be in the Advanced Class. It wasn’t easy.

I was the youngest belt in the Advanced Class

It didn’t help that some of the other kids were annoyingly teasing me at every chance they had

The others knew each other for years, so I was the new kid

Apparently, when you’re a young belt, you’re not expected to be so “perfect”, therefore I had no reason to almost cry when I made a mistake on my form.

Despite everything, Tae Kwon Do came easily to me. It was like a second nature; a stress reliever during the week. Stances, no problem; riding horse, walking, long, and back. It was easy; I just remember how Mrs. Robertson or how the older kids did it, and I was okay. Forms, slightly tougher, but they were more fun to me, so I tried to nail it down as quickly as possible so I can learn the next form.

Traditionally, after purple, it goes to green. Well, if you’re looking forward to read what happened to me in this belt, sorry to disappoint you. Mrs. Robertson decided that I should skip it to blue. Let me tell you; that was totally awesome. Blue belt meant not only a new form, but it meant that I was about to approach the really advanced stuff.

I love the advanced stuff. But I had me worried; um, hello, aren’t you supposed to do this the traditional way? But I soon found out that Club TKD wasn’t your traditional martial arts group. How many groups can say that they absolutely love Harry Potter (even go so far as to have nicknames based off the characters from the series)?

Or even hold parties in their teacher’s living room? Blue belt definitely opened up a new door to me. For once, I felt like part of the family they created; even the boys stopped teasing me and started treating me more like a friend. I guess that motivated me more to do my best; I knew I had the respect of the advanced class.

When I was blue advanced, I broke my arm. That’s when I learned something; the spirit of friendship. Both the basic and advanced classes and even my teacher’s family signed a card that said, and I quote, “Get better or it’s 1,000 push ups!”. They also gave me a basket full of books, coloring pages, and even a tiger that had a cast on that the Adv. Class signed. I swear, I never felt more blessed than at that moment.

Blue was my turning point for another reason; I started on forms that I wasn’t supposed to learn until I was at least red belt. (And not to sound cocky or arrogant or conceited, but I was starting to school some of the older kids.)

That’s when my teacher started to go untraditional once again; I skipped brown, and moved on to red, which landed me as the same rank as one of the guys who used to tease me, and became my friend-slash-competitor-slash-black belt buddy

At that point, I knew the hard way of the expression “No pain, No gain.”

I endured the teasing, the intense kicking drills, the challenges no forms and self-defense techniques brought, and even went through a test even when I was sick and lost my voice. And all that brought me to where I am.

I guess all that changed me. I became less chatty, more thoughtful. I even became grateful, for my TKD family, for my friends, and even my black belt partner (who is actually starting to ask me to help him out sometimes.)

But most of all, I became inspired, all thanks to my teacher, “Marty”.

Marty (we called her Mrs. R, or “ma’am” as any self-respecting group of pubescent kids would, thank-you very much.) was always one of my coolest teachers; she didn’t teach those regular, boring subjects you learn in school. (Thank you, God.) What she taught us was as every bit as important as what the schools would teach you.

She taught us how to be leaders, how to walk forward with a good attitude. She taught us how to work as one, but still be your own person. She taught us to focus on the task at hand, but still have kookiness and fun along the way. She taught us how to love, and care not only for yourself but others around you. She taught us to push through, to persevere. And most importantly, on very special days, Mrs. Robertson opened up our eyes and let us see ourselves in the future.

She always praised us and how good we will do in the future, how we will go places. Sometimes it makes me wonder if she could actually see the future. Mrs. Robertson taught us many things, and to me, I guess one of most important is having a Black Belt Heart, which is basically a huge mix of everything we’d ever learn from her.

So to me, a black belt will mean to me a few things. It’ll be a reminder of who I am, and to never forget it. It’s a memory of everything I had to do to be able to wear it. My black belt will hold all the lessons I had learned at Club TKD about life. It’ll remind me of friendship, of patience, of honor, of fighting spirit and of having fun. Most of all, it’ll mean that I would be a leader, not only in the “studio”, but also in the world, wherever I go.

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6 ANSWERS


  1. take a look: http://www.ielts-exam.net/index.php?opti...


  2. Assuming the question you have to answer is: "What does a Black Belt Mean to Me?" you spend about 1 paragraph answering the question and fill the rest of the essay with fluff the examiner already knows.

    Oh, and brown-nosing in your essay never really goes over well with the teacher. It is nice to hear that our students love us and respect us and are glad we've been their teacher... but that is not what the essay is for, so refrain from that tactic as much as possible.

    (Speaking from experience, never say the following or anything like it: 'not to sound cocky or arrogant or conceited...' You basically acknowledge that you are whatever it is you are trying to say you're not trying to be.)


  3. All a black belt is good for is holding your pants up. It won't help you any in a fight. Being a black belt is a state of mind, not a belt you tie around your waist.

  4. I have to agree with all of the above posters....

    I guess it really depends on what your teacher is asking for. Is it a REAL essay or a story? Is it a professional style essay or a personal opinion essay?

    If your teacher is looking for a story, then the above isn't too bad. It flows quite well. But it really seems more like an article for a newsletter than a report or essay.

    Since I am a normal teacher (as well as a karate teacher), I will suggest that you ask what the teacher is looking for. The more clearly you can answer that expectation, the easier it will be to meet it. Most students fail on meeting the "requirements" and not in the effort...

    Good luck!

  5. For a formal essay, get rid of the contractions.

  6. LOL what kind of martial arts requires a written essay.

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