Asking a highly trained soldier to hit you in the face as hard and as fast as they can, while surrounded by their peers, may not seem like a good idea to most people. In fact, it may seem like pure stupidity. But that’s exactly what I did, countless times, for more than two decades. When I arrived at a facility to provide hand-to-hand combat training, the attendees were sometimes less than receptive to me being there. Perhaps they had never heard of me or my elite system of combatives, Roku Jutsu™. Maybe they weren’t told I was coming or didn’t believe I possessed the necessary skill set to be giving instructions on the topic at hand. Whatever their reasons, I had to begin the process of establishing trust immediately, or I might be shown the door and would not be invited back.
A pride of lions is made up of adult males and females, as well as their cubs. A coalition of lions, however, is made up of a small group of adult males, who may be responsible for protecting one or more prides within a given territory. Anytime I showed up to teach a group for the first time, I knew I was being evaluated by their internal coalition. I knew that my skill set had to be verified by these select few before trust would be given by the group as a whole. And, I knew that trust had to be earned before knowledge could be transferred. Lenders verify with credit checks, employers verify with background
checks, and warriors verify with ability checks. I once saw a sign hanging above the entrance of a caged octagon fighting ring that read: “In here, you can’t hide what you don’t know.” By openly inviting a physical attack from a member of the coalition at the beginning of a new class, I was asking to be verified by exposing what I knew (or didn’t know) to the collective body—and at great risk.
The first attack would usually come halfheartedly and at a medium speed—and I would evade and counter with very little effort, entangling the attacker in an uncomfortable control and restraint technique at the end. It was always the second attempt that was loaded with seriousness and weighted with the real threat of danger. And yet again, the same as the first time, I would successfully evade and counter while matching the attacker’s speed and intensity tit for tat, followed by a lock or a hold. After two unsuccessful attempts at putting hands on me, one halfhearted and one all out, I would earn the respect required to take control of the class and could finally get down to business.
In my 25 years of teaching Roku Jutsu™ to federal agencies, military, and special forces, not once was I successfully hit by a student while performing this trust-building exercise. I had obtained this authentic expert power on the streets of Dayton, Ohio during my childhood and in the global arena of combatives as an adult—by the hardest means possible. As a professional, I never hesitated to validate my qualifications when a job was on the line. When you possess real expert power, you should never squawk or balk at the request to prove that your words and actions are in alignment. The fact that someone is asking shows that they want to trust you, and your willingness and openness to mitigate their concerns goes a long way toward proving that you are the real deal. Remember, just because someone offers you their trust doesn’t mean you don’t have to prove your salt—so stand tall, maintain eye contact, and always be prepared to verify. This is how the pros do it!
Christopher L. Harris, I Go Thru: Breaking Through with Expert Power (self-published, 2019), 23-24.
