Black Belt Blog - Mas Will
August, 2025
I’ve been learning to teach at One With Heart since I was thirteen years old. After the Covid lockdown had lightened up, we were still not training in our school, instead making the walk up to Mt. Tabor every Tuesday and Thursday. I can still recall the day Mas Guru Agung Janesa simply asked me to come to class an hour or so early, like it was nothing at all. I’d just be helping her with the class before ours, a group of eight to eleven year olds. At first, I didn’t know what to think of her proposition. I was a confused eighth grader who hardly had the confidence to speak out in class, much less to teach another group of students entirely. Leading up to my first day as an apprentice, I was understandably terrified. What if they don’t like me? What if they make fun of me if I’m not good enough?
All of these fears were put to rest when I got to our training grounds beside the reservoir. My teacher was not going to throw me into something I was not ready for. That first day, the students were chaotic, loud, and at times, unfocused. But I saw the passion Mas Guru Agung put into their training, and I saw the exact same dedication in the class I trained in directly after. I apprenticed under her clumsily, not remembering the student’s names, sometimes forgetting the movements I was supposed to be doing. Even so, she told me I had done well after that first class was over, and in training that night I found a new sort of fire was lit underneath me.
In the following weeks, I trained like I never had before. I still recall, all these years later, finding the strength to do our push-ups properly, when before I had cheated by resting my body on the ground in the long grass. Now, it was not only me I was training for, but also these students I held responsibility for. I did not have the luxury of lethargy during my training, and especially not when I was helping to teach. In time, I was able to call out to the whole group with a voice I didn't recognize, moving with a passion and fervor for improvement I hadn’t known before then.
It was at this time I also began high school. In this new place, I found that teaching is somewhat universal. Even though I was far from an expert in any of the subjects at my school, I found myself able to learn through helping others, trying to explain what I barely knew myself—and through doing so, gaining a better understanding of the topic. My confidence and willingness to reach out also skyrocketed, for what is scarier than a group of rowdy children you have to teach? In comparison, my peers in high school were peaceful.
By the end of my sophomore year, I was up to test for my brown sash. I had gone from an apprentice to an assistant, and Mas Guru Agung told me it was her intention to have me take the class shortly after my test. I had been preparing for a few months at that point, and I discovered during the test that it had all been worth it. Teaching made my brain think about what I was doing differently, giving every movement purpose. I didn’t just know what a kick was, I knew why we were doing it, its intention, and how to teach it. I passed my Brown Sash test, and proceeded to become a lead teacher, now with two assistants I had previously taught in the very same class.
It has now been two years since then. I have become a Black Belt since then, but the initial intent I was given since that first day I stepped into that class has remained the same. Teaching, having the responsibility of another upon me lead to a transformation, not just within the art, but of my whole character. I can hardly recognize how I held myself in years prior, and the discipline and accountability of being a teacher has made me look at the whole world in a different light.
Something that made me reflect a few months back is the idea that I will be remembered in each of my students' lives. Sure, I can recall nearly every teacher I’ve had, but it was novel to know that I am now in that position, I now am a person who will be remembered by others in that light, maybe even a person who will do the very same for others that my teachers have done for me. It’s a level of responsibility that scares me at times, but also one that fills me with immense pride and gratuity to be given this unique opportunity, one which has built me into the young man I am today.
In the next month, I will be leaving for Whitman College, in eastern Washington. I will not be able to teach anymore, and certainly will have many new things on my plate. I know I am going to miss the school, my students, my assistants, my friends. But I also understand that this is not the end. A good friend of mine, Mas Devin, stopped training for nearly a decade, but kept his sash with him the whole time, and returned to the school when the time was right. I will not be able to attend evening classes, be a part of the community I have become embedded in. However, this does not mean I’m leaving for good. I will always keep my belt and sash with me, and on the odd holiday I can return to Portland, I will find myself at the school, grateful to see the same faces, just a little more grown up. What this art has done for me cannot be undone by distance. I am a Black Belt, a teacher, and a friend of the school, something I will carry wherever my travels take me, even if it is across the world. I’m sure there will be more teachers in my future, and I will find more students that I will have the honor of teaching and learning alongside. Pukulan is not just an art or a school to me, it’s a community and lifestyle that I am grateful to have, and will not be leaving even as I step into this new chapter of my life.
I hope to see you all soon,
- Mas Will
