06/10/2026
Great words from an instructor’s point of view🙏🏼
Very true!
CONFESSIONS OF A TKD INSTRUCTOR
Contrary to popular belief, a Tae Kwon-do instructor doesn’t just show up, run the class, and go home.
They carry all the students with them.
They carry the student who isn't confident enough to believe they belong.
They carry the one who is struggling at home but still walks into training and gives you everything they have.
They carry the student who is angry with you because you challenged them.
They carry the one who hasn't seen the results yet but you know they're coming if they just keep working.
And sometimes, they carry the heartbreak of knowing that what a student needs and what a student wants are two completely different things.
Instructors are expected to develop students, build culture, communicate with parents, answer messages, manage personalities, keep kids safe, handle conflicts, motivate teenagers, meet expectations, represent a school and/or organisation, and somehow still have enough left in the tank to be a spouse, a friend and a human being when we get home.
And sometimes….. we're exhausted!
Sometimes we walk into class carrying things nobody knows about.
Sometimes we're having a terrible day and still show up smiling because our students don't need to carry our problems too.
Sometimes we're dealing with criticism from one direction, pressure from another, and expectations from every side.
And we still tie the belt around our waist.
Because the students are counting on us.
Here’s something every student need to understand:
Your instructor isn't your enemy because they hold you accountable.
The instructor who makes you repeat the same technique over and over again may be the instructor who sees something in you that you haven't seen yet.
The instructor who tells you that your effort isn't good enough may be trying to teach you that talent will only ever get you so far.
The instructor who doesn't put you in for the grading may be teaching you that wanting something and earning something are 2 different things.
The instructor who tells you to stop making excuses may be preparing you for a world where nobody is going to hand you success.
And sometimes the instructor who makes you the maddest... is the one who is fighting the hardest for the person you are capable of becoming.
Parents, hear this too.
Your child does not need you to fix every disappointment.
They need you to teach them how to walk through it.
Let them be upset.
Let them be frustrated.
Let them fail.
Let them sit with the uncomfortable feeling of not getting what they wanted.
Then teach them to get back up. Because one day, there won't be a instructor, a parent or a teacher standing beside them to make the hard things disappear.
And if we've done our jobs correctly, they'll know how to handle them.
And students...
Please remember this:
Your instructor is human too.
We mess up.
We get frustrated.
We say the wrong thing sometimes.
We go home and wonder if we handled something correctly.
We care when you don't think we do.
We lose sleep over things you'll never know about.
And sometimes we make decisions that hurt us too.
Because teaching isn't about being perfect.
It's about being present.
It's about caring enough to have the hard conversations.
It's about loving kids enough to hold them accountable.
It's about building something bigger than the next belt.
And maybe someday, long after the belts and medals are packed away, you'll realise that the instructor you thought was "too hard" wasn't trying to make your life difficult. They were trying to make sure you were ready for life when it got difficult.
That's the legacy I want.
Not that every student remembers every tournament win.
Not that everyone agreed with every decision.
Not that every parent loved every decision.
I want them to remember:
My instructor believed in me.
My instructor challenged me.
My instructor didn't let me quit on myself.
My instructor taught me that losing a just another opportunity to grow.
My instructor taught me how to win without becoming arrogant.
My instructor taught me that being a good classmate matters.
And most importantly...
My instructor cared about who I became, not just what I could do in the dojang.
Because at the end of the day, the belts gets taken off.
The uniform gets hung up.
The dojang gets quiet.
But the person these students become?
That's the part that lasts.
And THAT is why I teach.
Not because it's easy.
Not because everyone understands.
Not because every decision will be popular.
But because somewhere in that dojang, there's a kid who might need exactly what Tae Kwon-do is supposed to give them….
Someone who believes in them enough to challenge them, loves them enough to hold them accountable, and refuses to let them believe that their current circumstances define their future.
That's teaching.
That's the part nobody sees.
And that is why I teach.
