TESTIMONIAL NUMBER ONE
by David Perra, 5th Dan Black Belt

The night of June 16th, 1985 is etched clearly in my mind. I opened the doors to the Rec Center and my every move echoed through the dark lobby and into the training hall. A steam radiator hissed to greet me, as the double doors slammed behind me, assisted by the gusting wind. Flashes of lightening, from the pending thunderstorm, lighted my way towards the place I called "home" every Monday and Thursday night for the past five years. I felt as comfortable here as I did at home in my bed.

I entered the dark, quiet building two hours early, for an event that I had prepared for with thousands of hours of practice in and out of this space. I arrived early to align my mind, body and spirit to tackle the greatest challenge of my young life. I was here to test for my Black Belt in Taekwondo.

Thunder rang out. Lightening connected the ground to the sky. I could feel the energy in the air and I tried to embrace it. It made me feel energized. I had no fear. I had no worries. I had trained hard. I had complete trust in my instructor. He said I was ready. I was ready. I sat quietly in the dark and was amazed at how quiet it was, with a storm raging outside. Then I listened. It wasn't quiet outside. I was quiet inside. This internal change was a by-product of the extreme, external training that was endured and embraced for the past five years. I was on the path of "do", or "the way".

After an hour of sitting and stretching quietly, I stood, turned on the lights, and paused, as the lights hummed and came to life. The room somehow looked much smaller than it actually was. The smell of the training lingered in the air. I began setting up the stage for my performance. I hung an 80-pound heavy bag below the basketball hoop, under the balcony, to demonstrate power. I laid out mats, to soften the landings of my opponent during takedowns. I set up a table and chairs for the Testing Board. I stood concrete blocks on end, to hold whatever I would have to break, with hand strikes and kicks. Then I stood back and viewed the setting from the Board's perspective. It was daunting. The thought of how awesome an honor it must be for them to sit on that Board flashed through my mind. I refocused, and saw that the stage was set. Everything was in it's place, as if it was prearranged before I was even born. This moment was supposed to be.

Then, my silence was broken by the arrival of the Board Members. I was surprised to see only four people enter. Mr. Rouleau entered the room with a very solemn bow. He was followed by John Fumicello, Jim Davis and Kieth Goodale. Mr. Fumicello had his wrist wrapped in an ace bandage. He had worked on an Alaskan fishing boat for six months to toughen and prepare for his Black Belt test. Was I up to his standards? Mr. Davis had just had a forearm cast removed from a healed broken arm. He was a strapping 200-pound high school football player. Could I defend myself from his size and strength? Mr. Goodale was young, very flexible, and a good fighter. He was quiet, with a fixed gaze. Was he too preparing for my test? "Enough questions!", I thought to myself. It is time for answers.

Today, 21 years later, I am a 5th Degree Black Belt. I am a senior instructor at Rouleau's Taekwondo, under Master Don Rouleau. I was ready. I still enter the Dojang with the same spirit and enthusiasm today as I did back then. I still have youth in my mind, but I have age in my body. I play at a respectable level and still keep over-ambitious students in check. At 42 years old, I have spent nearly two-thirds of my life living Taekwondo. Who I am, the life I live and the paths I have chosen have almost all stemmed from Taekwondo. The martial arts and a good instructor, if well matched to the student, can impact lives for generations, and in ways that can boggle the mind.

My journey is not unique, but it is priceless to me. Master Don Rouleau and his instruction in Taekwondo (and life) have impacted my daily life, and therefore the lives of those around me, including students past and present, in ways that have not yet unfolded. Stay tuned for some of those ways.