Bonds That Tie Family Together Are Black Belts

Right there on the floor mats of a Encinitas karate studio, 16-year-old Ara Phillips had an opportunity that most teen-agers can only dream about.

Standing directly in front of her, staring her dead in the eye, was her mother, Deb Smith. Like Ara, she was dressed in a white gi with a belt that pulled tight at the waist. Her arms were slightly extended, ready for action.

This was a chance to reap sweet revenge for all the cruel things mothers sometimes do to teen-age daughters--interrupt good-night kisses on the front porch or make them ride the bus to school instead of taking the family Porsche.

But, when the two began that first sparring match in their weeknight karate class, Ara did the only honorable thing. She treated her mother as a worthy opponent. And then bowed in her presence when the short bout was through.

‘A Real Opportunity’

“I know a lot of kids who talk about hitting their moms when they get mad,” she said. “And here I have a real opportunity to hurt her, and I didn’t want to. I always feel terrible when I hit her too hard or knock the wind out of her.

“When she knocks me down, she always apologizes. And then we start laughing about it. She’s like a friend on the mat.”

Four nights a week, Ara and both her parents are able to step outside their family roles when they show up at a Manchester Avenue karate studio. It’s like some new body language, a robust exercise in mind, body and spirit.

All three have earned black belts in the Uechi--ryu discipline of karate and have spent endless hours not only punching and kicking one another, but calmly critiquing each other’s techniques.

All those jabs and counter blows have taught them an important lesson: A family that fights together, stays together.

“Most families don’t have the luxury to step outside their family roles,” said 41-year-old Deb Smith. “Ara and I can spend an evening sparring. But it’s easy to step back into the mother-daughter roles as soon as the class is through.”

The family is among a handful of mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers who have joined a Leucadia karate school that stresses the family way learning the martial arts.

Once a pursuit dominated by young males, martial arts studios in San Diego and elsewhere have seen a new breed of student begin suiting up in the starchy white gis , instructors say. There’s more women like Ara and her mother. And more families.

“Karate helps neutralize the anger that may build up inside a family and release it in a positive way,” said Rod Mindlin, owner and instructor at North Coast Martial Arts and Supplies. “Parents who know karate aren’t going to hit their kids.

“And the children know that, if the parent ever did get totally weird, they could very adequately defend themselves. Knowing karate builds esteem for yourself and others, which I think helps in a family relationship.”

Beating the Stress

Mindlin and his wife teach the classes, which are often attended by their own teen-age daughter. The family approach seems to have rubbed off on their students.

Mark and Marcia Bartechko of Encinitas started taking lessons in June as a reciprocal wedding gift. Three months later, they’ve both found a way to beat the stress of two hectic white-collar jobs.

“I like doing anything in which my husband joins me,” Marcia said. “I’m hyper-active and I used to take my tensions out on him a lot. Now, if we both agree to play at karate, to spar around the living room, it’s healthier. It’s certainly better than yelling at each other at inappropriate times.”

When her 10-year-old son began taking karate lessons four years ago, Susanne Aref had to stop their regular wrestling session--he had suddenly become too coordinated for her, his countermoves disarmed her every time.

Now, each week, she’s attending the self--defense classes right along with him. And the wrestling sessions have started again.

“We always played around, you know, wrestling on the couch, and he always crumbled and started laughing,” said Aref, who lives in Solana Beach. “Then, after he started taking karate, he came back at me. He was coordinated.

“He knew what he was doing. I stopped play-attacking until I learned a few pointers myself.”

Around the house, Ara Phillips also has a little fun with her parents, often jumping out at them from behind doors like Kato, the feisty assistant to film sleuth Inspector Clouseau.

“In most houses you see the parents watching television every night, and the kids doing their homework. Ours is different. We practice together, talk about technique.”

Studying karate, however, has become more than just a replacement for after-school gymnastics or weeknight aerobics classes for both Ara and her mother. Both find that the discipline has taught them concentration they would have been hard-pressed to find anywhere else.

‘Always Concentrating’

“When I’m inside the dojo (karate studio), I don’t let anything distract me,” Ara said. “I’m always concentrating on what I’m doing, as though someone were about to attack me, as though my life depended on it.

“Even if I have an itch, I don’t scratch it. At home, I take that concentration and apply it to my schoolwork and other things I do. If I’m thirsty and in the middle of some thought on an essay, I don’t get right up. I finish the thought. Then I get a drink.”

Added her mother: “With a family, pets and a job, I’m always pulled in different directions, and so often I have to put tasks down. This is something I can pick up and finish. Nothing gets in the way.”

Ara was the first in her family to begin taking karate lessons four years ago. Her father, Rick Smith, started several months later. But her mom resisted.

“I actively resisted for about a year,” she said. “I was into my aerobics. The last thing I wanted to do was karate. I thought it was all some sort of macho posturing.”

Then she attended a karate exhibition with her husband and daughter. “I got so turned on by the movement,” she recalled. “It wasn’t all fighting. A lot of the movement was like dance. I got hooked on that.”

Part of the attraction, students say, is the family atmosphere at Mindlin’s Cardiff studio, where the uninitiated are encouraged to ask questions about their new art of self-defense.

“A lot of martial arts places I’ve seen are like boot camp,” said Mark Bartechko. “You have to wear your gi and your belt a certain way, stand at attention and say, ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No, sir’ or become humiliated. It’s not like that at Rod’s place.”

Deb Smith said students are free to question a directive anytime. “Rod teaches from the self-defense point-of-view. He’s taught us that we’re all the little guys, and that the stronger guy isn’t always going to win--what’s right and effective and appropriate will win.”

“As a result, I have a good attitude about my abilities. I’m not going to swagger down the street with a chip on my shoulder trying to prove that I’m now a very capable woman in a man’s world.”

On a recent night, Ara and her mother demonstrated their new technique, joking that it was more fun to perform to music. With the Uechi-ryu karate discipline, they said, there are no high kicks or flips.

Based on the perceived movements of three creatures--the dragon, tiger and crane--students are taught to keep their bodies low to the ground, their hands slightly in front of their bodies in a simple defensive position.

Each move, or kata , can be combined with another like dance steps to form one fluid, choreographed defensive motion.

Performing the katas with their hands can be addictive, Deb Smith said. She finds herself doing them in the car--even at work.

Her daughter practices them in her mind when she lays in bed at night. “Some people count sheep, I do katas ,” she said. “Or I lay there dreaming about what I would do if I was attacked.”

Pity the poor thief who might one day unknowingly attack Ara Phillips and her mom and dad.

“We’d take care of him--even if he had a knife or something,” she said. “With three people moving in different directions, one would get the knife and the other could kick him.”

Her mother added: “Or else we could all just run like hell.”