I work in this nation's largest criminal detention system, Rikers Island, N.Y.C. This place is composed of several very large jails, and houses inmates from minimum to maximum security. The people who make a career out of hurting others for personal gain are locked up here. I know them. I see them exercise, train, and network. You name it, they do it. The inmates in our system train for their "professions" very diligently.

A recent incident which occurred there reminded me of the enormous responsibility we as instructors have to our students. For me it illustrated the concept of giri (duty) that all people in authority must bear.

It was another gray day in the middle of April. "Will it rain or are the clouds just hiding the sun?", I thought as I entered the mess hall. As I looked around, an eerie silence greeted me. Normally there would be loud chatter and tales of bravado. But today the officers sat eating quietly, with a distant look in their eyes. It was only the beginning of spring and already we had responded to three major disturbances. Just as I was about to sit down, the call came over the radio, "Capt. Serrano report to the control room immediately". The officers looked at each other and then at me. They followed me without a word.

As they assisted each other with the riot gear, I inspected everyone to ensure that they were bus headed for the House of Detention for Men, I gave instructions on how to follow my lead. It's my duty and responsibility to the officers to take them in and get them out in one piece.

When we entered the facility, there was a frenzy of movement going on. Other response teams from all over Rikers had converged on the scene and we awaited our orders. The Deputy Warden notified me that several gang members seriously injured an officer and were now refusing to leave the recreation yard. When the inmates were brought into the facility, my team was to secure the corridor, and assist in the strip search of all the inmates involved in the melee.

The search was almost completed when one of the inmates decided to make a stand. he was not going to allow himself to be searched. Rather than risk any action on his part which might set off the other gang members, I ordered him escorted out of the area. As an officer ushered him past me, this inmate decided that assaulting a captain would look good on is resume.

I saw the sucker punch coming out of the corner of my eye. I instinctively fell back into ichimonji. Simultaneously I struck the inside of his triceps with my baton. Rocking forward, I applied an onikudaki elbow lift. The right end of the baton smashed into his throat and his body hit the floor with a thud. I quickly looked around for any other attackers but my officers had the remaining inmates under control. After my challenger picked himself up off the floor, he couldn't get undressed fast enough. I was grateful that my officers and I had gotten through the incident unscathed.

After finishing our reports, we prepared to go back to our facility. As we waited for the bus, the officers assigned to this facility began to voice their anger. One of them received serious injuries and they blamed the administration. They felt it was the administration's lack of commitment and obligation to the officers that was the root of the problem.

As instructors we must have a very strong sense of commitment, obligation, and duty to our students. During class, I want to share with the students all I know about their potential attackers. Since I know first-hand what they are up against, I encourage my students to train as if their lives depended on it, because they do. It is no easy task to continually motivate students to take their training seriously. They must always be challenged to do better than yesterday. The students are given the benefit of all their instructor's collective knowledge and experience.

I find it inspiring to see the different methods used by instructors as they transmit the knowledge of our art. When a student does not understand a concept or technique, the instructors find a way for the student to solve the problem. In our dojo the instructors guide the students to achieve their ultimate potential. There are moments when we feel like proud parents watching the success of our students. Unfortunately, there is also disappointment and frustration. We give our all but some students give very little of themselves.

After class, many students thank us and let us know that they had a great time learning. Yet some students have said that the instructors in our dojo are too demanding. Given the choice, I'd rather be demanding and fulfill my duty than be easy and fail the student. I have seen the price for failing the people in your charge. I always challenge the student's perception of skill so it can withstand the reality that awaits them outside the dojo. All that I do, I do in the hopes that the student will be better for it. Through the ups and downs, we instructors will be there to help the students reach their goals, simply because it is our duty.

This article originally appeared in the February 1995 (vol. 19 no. 2) edition of Musubi, Stephen K. Hayes' newsletter. For more information about Musubi, contact the Nine Gates Institute, 6052 Wilmington Pike #231, Dayton, OH 45459.

Hannibal Serrano is a 12 year veteran of the N.Y.C. Department of Corrections, and a black belt senior student of Jean-Pierre Seibel at New York Budo. He may be contacted through the editor at: Ashidome@aol.com or through Jean-Pierre Seibel at: NYBUDO@aol.com.