Martial Heart
A tae kwon do instructor teaches kids about
the importance of self in the art of self-defense.

By Heather Shouse
Maria needs a Band-Aid, Zoey could use some help with her belt and Michael's sock is stuck. At five minutes to five, Chang's Martial Arts dojang is a hurricane of activity, and tae kwon do master Lanre Lawanson (pictured above, left) is in the eye of the storm. With Zen-like calm, he manages to wrangle 15 fireballs between the ages of four and seven, fixing all boo-boos and earning a "thank you, sir" from each one. These are the youngest of his "children" (the oldest are in their thirties), and while they may not know it, they're learning much more than tae kwon do at this 20-year-old dojang.
"Ye ui, yom chi, in nae, guk gi, baekjul boolgool!" As a signal to begin the session, the class shouts these Korean tenets, which mean "courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, indomitable spirit." Lawanson?called "sir" by all students as a traditional form of respect for a martial-arts master-yells these principles of his teaching the loudest, followed by 14-year-old Taylor Varndell and 28-year-old William Rivera, students-turned-instructors who each have been at Chang's for more than half of their lives.
"Hearing those tenets of tae kwon do every day, every week, for so many years, it becomes ingrained," Varndell says. "When you're young, you don't necessarily connect what the words mean. But you grow and start interacting with people and the meanings, the definitions of the words are more prevalent simply because you're putting them into action.it's not simply learning how to kick and punch. You're learning self-discipline."
And Lawanson is the one to teach it. The Nigeria native may wear a permanently affixed grin these days-standing in as a stern but funny father figure for his students-but 25 years ago, he was a competing champion under the tutelage of grand master Chang Seo Park. "He's the Korean national champion. Twice. His record alone made me respect him," Lawanson says. "And he taught me that martial arts is about two things: respect and discipline. With those, you cannot only become a champion but an all-around complete person."
It was Park who pushed Lawanson to open his own dojang 20 years ago in Wicker Park, a time when kids in the neighborhood worried more about getting jumped on their way home than whether to buy sneakers at Urban Outfitters. Rivera, now one of Chang's highest-ranking instructors, was a skinny 11-year-old when he first came to the dojang, ducking in after school to learn what he thought would be fight lessons. "I used to be a punching bag for the bigger kids, getting picked on all the time and coming home with black eyes and bloodied lips," he recalls. "And sir did teach me how to win fights if my life was threatened. But really, he taught me to walk away."
Right now, "sir" is teaching snap kicks to wobbly first-graders, who bite their lips in determination, giving extra oomph when they see that their master is watching. Tapping a boy at the front of the class on the shoulder, Lawanson shouts, "George, show me your front kick!" With raised fists and a squeaky "Hi-yaa" the boy kicks his right leg out at the knee. Lawanson bellows to the class, "Can we do it like that?" "Yes, sir." "Buuut, what about better?" Again, the class responds, "Yes, sir." Before walking away, he whispers to George, "They're going to try and do better than you but you can't let them. At your new school you're going to show them where you came from, right?"
Later Lawanson explains he's losing George soon, calling the class's highest ranker his "star" and lamenting that the boy's family will be moving to Northbrook. This bond is only a couple years in the making, but Lawanson has invested up to 20 years in others. In addition to end-of-class life lessons on topics like teamwork and resolving conflict, the martial-arts master attends parent-teacher conferences, helps with homework, ponies up competition fees for single mothers who just can't spare the money, and most of all, can always be found in the same, safe spot.
"He's like a dad to me, really. If I have any real issues, I know he'll be there," Rivera says. "The gangbanging, doing drugs and all that stuff the older generation of my family was doing, that's what I wanted to get away from. Once I found tae kwon do, that was it. If I wanted to meet new people, I could just come here. If I wanted to meet up with friends, we could just meet here. I never needed to go anywhere else. Everything was always right here."
Chang’s Martial Arts is located at 1534 N Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago. 773.342.6442