As an incoming freshman at The Ohio State University this past fall semester, I was keen to heed the advice of all those around me: don’t hole yourself up in your dorm and get involved with student life. The aftermath was me scouring the student activities page for hours on end (in retrospect, just going to the involvement fair would have saved me a world of time), eager to experience everything the school had to offer when I stumbled across Dragon Phoenix Wushu – a small, intimate performance martial arts organization I had never heard of.
As a woefully unathletic teenager who had never stepped foot inside a martial arts classroom, I talked myself out of braving the RPAC numerous times (bless the club’s year-long open enrollment) before I finally forced myself to go. Two hours and one practice later, I was hooked.
I realized immediately that some of the members were seasoned professionals with years of experience, but just as many were like me: newcomers with either limited, or in my case, no background in the sport. Once I introduced myself to the members and received my t-shirt and shoes (lovingly nicknamed “wushoes”), I was ready to start.
Getting started.
My first step was learning the open-hand basics which meant weeks of Five Stance and 32 Long Fist drills. Both forms trained the beginner-level wushu movements, becoming second nature once I got the hang of them. Not only did they give me a taste of what was to come, but they also instilled in me a sense of confidence in my abilities and eased any lingering reservations about my lack of experience.
After grappling with the basics for some time, it was time to choose between the two divisions of wushu: the elegant, traditional northern style (chángquán) and the powerful, aggressive southern style (nanquan). The former involves elongated movements and complex legwork in the form of high kicks and the latter sharp yet grounded movements with an emphasis on the arms. I ultimately sought to learn the mesmerizing sequences of the chángquán members. My fellow nanquan members, though, are equally impressive on stage as their fierce shouts command the attention of the audience.
Choosing a weapon.
After graduating from the basics, I had complete freedom in my choice of weapon, ranging from the traditional four – broadsword, staff, straight sword and spear – to the limitless non-traditional ones, including meteor hammer, hook sword, chain whip and fan, to name a few. In a little over a month, I familiarized myself with 32 Straight Sword and developed a fan form with the aid of my peers (and countless YouTube videos).
Preparing for competition and performances.
December rolled around alongside the University Wushu Games, an annual day-long competition in Maryland the weekend prior to the horrors of finals week. To say I was nervous would be a vast understatement; I never quite recovered from my childhood stage fright, and in all honesty, was absolutely petrified. My teammates hyped me up before my turn, assuring me of my hard work over the course of the semester… and then I messed up. A lot. I would be lying if I said my first performance went well, but I would also be lying if I said I regret it. Instead, I repeated the age-old lesson that “practice makes perfection” in my mind and continued to practice.
Just one month later, I successfully performed with my team at our Chinese American Student Association (CASA) Lunar New Year demonstration and Ohayocon Avatar panel – an exhilarating experience I cannot wait to have again. Though perhaps a cheesy message, I learned firsthand the value of both consistent practice and experience in growth, be it in wushu or any other craft. With a few months of experience under my belt, I say with confidence that this previously foreign, intimidating group has become my second home on campus.