This kid is like five feet tall and he’s trying to mug me? And my friend? This is ridiculous. Is he actually going to try to hit me? Apparently he is.

* * *

These were the thoughts that went through my head when a diminutive middle-schooler demanded that my good friend Zander and I give him our valuables. Good thing Zander had been mugged several weeks ago and was capable of maintaining a clear head, because I wasn’t.

Zander and I were walking to lunch during school one day when two young men began following us. When Zander and I reached my family’s car, the shorter of our two pursuers stepped in front of us and notified us that he wanted our “shit.” I immediately became confused and didn’t know what to do, but Zander informed him that we would not give them anything and that we could still go our separate ways without incident. Unfortunately, the young man failed to heed Zander’s advice. After several minutes of nonsensical arguments from him, such as threatening to shoot us with his nonexistent firearm, he swung his right fist in a wide arc towards my face, giving me time to dodge his strike. Zander, who is roughly 5’ 8” and 160 pounds of muscle, threw my attacker against the car. The attacker’s friend came up behind Zander and punched him in the back of the head. I reacted by putting him in a half-nelson, disabling his punching arm. Neither Zander nor I fully recollect what happened after this point (we both insist that we took on the taller of the two), but the story ends with us riding away in the back of a passing friend’s pickup truck and our assailants heading to our school and taking out their frustration by stealing a sophomore’s hat and punching him in the face.

I began practicing Kajukenbo two and a half years before this event, after my first almost-mugging. Kajukenbo is a street-fighting system originally developed in Hawaii during the 1950’s by five black belts - in Karate, Judo, Jujitsu, Kempo and Kung Fu - to combat drunken American sailors. The first schools to teach Kajukenbo were renowned for their savageness. Students routinely received concussions and broken bones.

Although the old-school Kajukenbo students would have crushed the esophagus of anyone who wanted to tango with them, I merely dodged my attacker’s inadequate hook punch. According to my school’s philosophy, six phrases called the Warrior’s Code, I did the right thing. The Warrior’s Code dictates that a warrior must respect all living things, use fighting skills only as a last resort, always give his or her best effort, never lift a fist in anger, and that the greatest warrior is the one who stands for peace.

At first, the brutal techniques taught at the school seemed to conflict with the Warrior’s Code. There is no ancient Kajukenbo law of honor that instructs students not to kick an opponent while he or she is down, or never to kick a man in the groin. The basic concept is, if you knock the enemy down, drive your forearm into his trachea to make sure he doesn’t get back up.

But upon further reflection following this skirmish, I came to understand that the Code and the Kajukenbo techniques are not incompatible. The Code mandates that a true warrior will only use his or her fighting skills after all other options have been exhausted, at which point all bets are off and any techniques may be used to protect oneself or others who require help.

I must admit that I still think of the myriad cool combinations I could have performed on my fun-size mugger. But I know that if I had caused irreversible damage to him, I couldn’t convince myself that I did the right thing. On the other hand, if the thieving duo had actually hurt that sophomore whose hat they stole, or if the phantom firearm had existed, making full use of my Kajukenbo skills would have been absolutely appropriate. In the end, it always comes down to the individual to decide the correct course of action in a dangerous situation, which can only be learned through experience.

 This essay was written by Aaron McCarty, Garfield Class of 2007, Carleton College Class of 2011.