Written on the shingles of Taekwondo dojongs all over the United States appear words like “Confidence,” “self-Respect, “Discipline, “Fitness,” Focus,” and, of course, “Self-Defense,” like some magic formula or mantra. What exactly is meant by these vague if wondrous promises? The meanings of some, like “Self-Defense,” seem apparent, but how do the others relate to Taekwondo training? And why are they touted in the first place? Could a master not do just as well by promising “Washboard Abs!” and “Killer Kicks!”? Why does it even matter how all these promises are phrased? What are we to make of the word “Taekwondo” itself and its translation “the way of hand and foot”? What is really meant by do, the “way”?
Sometimes students who are drawn to the study of martial arts by those very phrases are puzzled to discover that some dojangs place relatively little emphasis on the situation of such qualities as self-respect and discipline.  Some students find themselves wondering why, if Taekwondo is about focus, clarity, or inner peace, so little formal practice is devoted to meditation or other techniques specifically designed to clear and relax the mind.  And, they wonder, if Taekwondo is about inner strength and clarity of mind, then what’s the story with all the ranks and the fuss of promotional tests? In the end, aren’t those just distractions from the true goal of “enlightenment”? And isn’t Taekwondo really pretty violent? In this day and age, should students really be practicing a martial art that publicly declares itself to be devastatingly powerful? Who exactly are we planning to devastate?
In the time that we have been teaching Taekwondo, all of these questions have arisen at one time or another.  And they are on the minds of most beginners as they first enter the strange and foreign world of the dojang, with its uniforms, its bows, its foreign phrases and rituals. But the power of Taekwondo rightfully lies in the utilization of this form of art for the development of character and strong sense of self-confidence.