A scared knock on one door changed everything

Two friends and I had gotten into trouble with the neighborhood toughs—enough to scare us into learning how to defend ourselves. So we did what terrified teenagers do: joined a karate dojo, lifted weights, and chased anything we thought might make us stronger.

Around that time, a Japanese man started coming in and out of a nearby building. He was renting a studio short-term. And in our brilliant ’80s teenage logic (with a lack of cultural awareness the ’80s gave us), we assumed: Japanese = martial artist.

We wanted to learn from him but were too nervous to approach. We’d walk by, freeze, retreat… until one evening we forced ourselves to knock on his studio door, after arguing about who’d speak.

One problem: we didn’t share a language.

He opened the door—kind smile, puzzled look.
I pointed at him, then us. “Karate.”
He looked confused.
We made fists. He made fists.
We bowed. He smiled.

Somehow, it worked.

He was an accomplished martial artist. He pointed to his clock, gave us a time, and the next day we were training in the foyer—knuckle pushups on tile floors, hard drills, real discipline.

He even brought a friend to spar. Watching them move—fast, fluid, controlled—blew our minds. He refused to take a cent and trained us for months.

Forty years later, I’m still grateful.

Yes, I learned some karate—but the real lesson was this:

If fear keeps you from asking, knocking, or trying—especially when you feel clueless—you’ll miss the moments that could change your life. There are more people willing to help than you think, and more opportunities waiting if you have the courage to step toward them.