So, when I mentioned earlier that I didn't test in front of Grand Master Kim until I was about a brown belt, well, that was a lie. But I will remind you that this blog is based in non chronological fact, which means, I won't remember every little detail. Also, there is a small story explaining my extreme avoidance of tests in front of Grand Master Kim....
The first time I met Grand Master Kim was when I tested for my green belt. My do bok was entirely white, including the collar. Whenever a white belt tests in front of Grand Master Kim for her yellow belt, this white belt is bestowed with the gift of her name written in Korean on the collar of her do bok. All of the other yellow belts testing with me that day had their names written on their collars by Grand Master Kim. So, I knew that I had to at least get my name written down before anyone got suspicious that I was doing only the makeup tests.
At the testing, we all lined up before the ceremony began and Grand Master Kim walked between our rows with a permanent marker, ready to etch those who had not been etched before. I stood there, waiting in anticipation. I was nervous to meet the head honcho and test in front of him, but I was also excited to try and do my best. So, when Grand Master Kim came to me with his important permanent marker, he lifted it to my collar, glanced at me, and asked for my name.
"Sha--" background talking and noise --"osh." I said, entirely interrupted. Grand Master Kim was about to ask me to repeat it, but I wasn't quite done yet. "And McCosh is spelled 'M'...'C'...'C'...'O'...'S'...'H.'"
He stared at me, his eyes slanted, yet somehow blank as he registered what I had just done. Then, I thought about it. As soon as it donned on me, I wanted to slap my forehead and walk away in shame. I mumbled at him "Shannon McCosh," where he proceeded to write "Shannon McCosh" on my uniform... in Korean. And this was just the beginning of the evening, but hey, at least he was polite enough to let me finish without interrupting me.
Testing, for me, brought on such nerves that every time I had to do it, if I let my grip on the situation become too grave, I knew that I would be making an ass out of myself at some point. After I spelled my Scottish last name for Grand Master Kim to spell on my uniform, that's when I didn't see him again for a long time.
But now it's time to talk about when I tested for my high red belt, in front of Grand Master Kim. I had two other students testing with me for the same belt. Together, we had to perform Taeguk Yuk Jang in front my sabumnim, one of my favorite black belt instructors, and Grand Master Kim. And, as usual, I was a ball of nerves, on the edge of tears, wishing I didn't have to get up in front of everyone. Pathetic, I know.
But, alas, the time came. The three of us stood up, lined up, and assumed jun-be, ready stance. My sabumnim read the form name to us, then told us to begin, going by our own count. Taeguk Yuk Jang was very different from the other Taeguks for me, and I was really unsure of how I felt about it. So, in the middle of the form, I forgot a move. I mixed up where my hands and feet should have gone for the step forward into a high ridge hand/knife strike. The other students kept up the pace. So, I quickly fixed my mistake and tried to catch up, my stomach filling up with dread and shame. Then, it happened again. I forgot the move. I was so flustered with the form and myself for being such a fool! I couldn't catch up and I felt like an idiot for forgetting the form!
I threw my hands up and walked away. I walked to the edge of the mat, praying that they wouldn't fail me, trying to choke back tears so that I wouldn't look more like an idiot. When the other two students were done, the three judges graciously allowed me to do the form again, on my own. I performed it mistake-free. In hindsight, I'm really surprised, and grateful that they didn't just fail me right then and there. But, luckily for me, my sabumnim was forgiving as well as understanding. Plus, it didn't hurt that I had told him about my nerves before the test.
As awful as that experience was, I look back and still have some mixed feelings on it. I wonder why I made such a big deal out of it and why I psyched myself out. But I also appreciate it. It showed me the character of the men judging me and the compassion behind that character. I found that after that test, the other tests weren't so hard. I was still nervous, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I'd do it.
I decided that life's too short for being so uptight. So, I rolled up my sleeves, loosened up these old gears of mine and just a sprinkle of confidence started shining during my testings. I didn't quite realize it at first, but the more confidence I got in Tae Kwon Do, the more that confidence started sneaking into other aspects of my life.
