I was about 10 years old and in the 5^th grade when the local punk kid was always pushing me around and beating me up at school. After coming home beaten and bruised one too many times, my father insisted that I train in the martial arts, and he told me that he "knew of someone" that was "pretty good". I remember feeling good about this because I knew that this kid wouldn't be beating the crap out of me anymore. That night my parents and I climbed into the 1974 Toyota Crapola and trekked to Providence to see a class. We walked up the stairs and I sat in the chairs facing the class. Looking down, I read "If you can't keep quiet, PLEASE LEAVE" painted on the floor, so I made sure that I kept fairly still.

The class was pretty cool, a bunch of people (some were kids my own age) were punching, kicking, and yelling a whole lot. Something caught GM Pesare's attention, and he approached one of the purple belts around 12 years old or so, and said "Next time you make a mistake, I'll show you how to do that elbow".

After class, we climbed back into the car, and on the way home, my father said, "You're better off getting the beatings at school, they're not as bad".

That always stuck in my mind as I grew up. When I was an adult, I returned to the Kaito Gakko.


Marc Ayotte #35