SPORTS

T

Lezlie Light performs a routine with a chizikunbo.

Kosher Katas

Local martial arts classes are creating
Jewish sho-dans.

MIKE ROSENBAUM

Sports Writer

56

FRIDAY, APRIL 14, 1989

hey are gathering at
local schools, drawn
by a desire for fitness
and self-defense
knowledge. They do
katas (routines), either
empty-handed or while
handling weapons such as sai
(swords) or wooden weapons
such as nunchuku or the
palm-sized chizikunbo. If they
are good enough, they may
achieve sho-dan, an
Okinawan phrase meaning
"first degree." In this case a
first degree black belt in
karate.
These martial arts students
gather at Peter Carbone's
Martial Arts Academy. At a
recent class at West Hills
Middle School in Bloomfield
Hills, which is run through
the city's community educa-
tion department, two Jews
with sho-dans helped Car-
bone instruct the twice-
weekly class. Jewish and non-
Jewish students, adults and
children, men and women,
ran through exercises and
routines, dressed in tradi-
tional barefooted martial arts
style, bowing with respect to
sensei Carbone and following
his instructions.
The Eastern physical and
mental discipline blended
well with American-Jewish
culture for Bob Feinberg and
Steve Kass, the Jewish black
belts. While taking pride in
their achievments they dwell-
ed on what they have and can
learn, rather than the color of
their belts. Their attitudes
were similar to the instructor
from The Karate Kid. When
asked what kind of belt he
had, he replied, "J.C. Penney,
$3.95."
The black belt, says Kass,
"never was really a goal un-
til I became a high-rank
brown belt where that would
be the next promotion. That's
not why I really got into it: I
got into it for the exercise and
self-defense aspects of it and
that just kind of came along
with it."
Kass enjoys the class
because "there's always
something new to learn.
Sensei has a lot of knowledge
stored and he's happy to share
it with us. I'm kind of like a
sponge. I try to soak up
whatever I can."
Feinberg first attended a
class at Southfield-Lathrup
High School because "I
wanted the exercise and I
wanted to be able to defend
myself or friends:' Nine years
ago, at age 26, he discovered
how out of shape he was. In
his "third or fourth class I
was sparring with a little kid,
about 8 or 9 years old. And I
was out of breath after about
three or four minutes. He was
so excited he ran over to his

Scott Leibovitz, 13, works on his
technique.

dad and says, 'I beat up that
man over there.' I've come
quite a way since then."
Lezlie Light had a specific
goal of learning self-defense
when she looked at several
karate schools one and one-
half years ago. She selected
Carbone's classes because he
teaches "vital points," says
Light. "You don't have to be
strong musclemen to down
your opponent and to get out
of a bad situation. Just sim-
ple touches are what does it,
in the right points."
The classes do not prepare
students for competition. "I
don't want sport karate," says
Light. "I don't want to learn
how to punch somebody. I
want to learn how to knock
somebody out if need be. And
being a woman with small
kids, I feel like a prime target
because any attacker knows
I'm concerned with my kids;
I'm not concerned with
myself. So I'm easy. But you
have to be ready and I have to
protect my kids from it, too."
Light's 5-year-old son Sean
takes a class. Corey, 3, is too
young. "He imitates quite a
bit," says Light.
The children in the West
Hills class do most of the
same routines as the adults.
Feinberg believes the mental
discipline of karate is easier
for children to absorb.
"When they come in they
can accept a lot of the things
a lot easier. Their minds are
more like a sponge that's not
filled up with water yet.
Everything that they learn
kind of stays with them. It
teaches them not just how to
defend themselves and how to
have self-control in a situa-
tion, but he teaches them