Getting Power - Without Violence -- Aikido Students Get Control From Foe

Class for toddlers

Aikido of West Seattle will offer a class for toddlers and their parents, starting at 11:30 a.m. Saturday. For information, call 938-5222.

She can break your ribs, but, really, she'd rather not.

It isn't her style, and, besides, what would a few more broken bones in the world accomplish? Pam Cooper, fourth-degree black belt and chief instructor at Aikido of West Seattle for the past eight years, asks the question.

The correct answer - "Nothing" - underscores her basic philosophy, which can be summed up in a word:

Peace.

"What good would it do to add my anger to my opponent's anger?" Cooper says. She is 37, wears gray plastic-rimmed glasses, and has straight brunette hair nearly the length of her body. Mostly, she is serious, self-assured in walk and talk with the straightforwardness of someone on a mission.

Besides being one of only a few women in the Seattle area to run her own martial-arts studio, Cooper has carved out a niche for herself by teaching a number of disabled people, including two who are brain-damaged, and one with cerebral palsy. She is also one of few black-belt instructors in the area to teach toddlers.

She leads workshops and gives demonstrations in schools, companies and community centers, all the while spreading her distinct philosophy of nonviolence.

Aikido, to begin with, is one of the least violent of martial arts. It emphasizes submission holds and joint twists over strikes and kicks. Ideally, it teaches students to have the quality of water, which flows and takes any shape or course.

So, unlike other martial arts in which the approach is "you strike me and I'll strike back," aikido's approach is "you strike me and I will allow you to fall from your own momentum."

The concept behind it all is the idea of nonresistance: if pushed, move with the push; if pulled, move with that motion, blending with an opponent's direction of power.

Cooper takes the nonresistance principle even further. She teaches students not to hurt opponents, but simply to control them.

Don't hurt an opponent? This is a radical idea to many young people who've fed on a steady diet of "kill-or-be-killed" martial-arts movies. Cooper says that in her most recent high-school demonstration, some of the kids were shouting, "Kick her in the head! Kick her in the head!"

She says she was amazed at the bloodlust, and felt her message was needed more now than ever.

Not that Cooper doesn't know how to give hurt. The difference between a wrist lock that controls and a wrist twist that splinters arm bones is only a matter of a few degrees.

Of course, there are other reasons to enroll in her classes. Mary Sexton, a woman in her 30s with cerebral palsy and lupus, wants to gain strength and flexibility.

"I can already see changes," said Sexton, who uses a wheelchair. "I couldn't sit up very well on my legs. Lately, I've started to kneel more, and have started to learn how to crawl. I'm excited about that."

To supplement her income, Cooper makes and sells shojis, Japanese screens used as window covers or room dividers. It's a quiet art, and seems to flow naturally from her martial art.

Aikido, to her, and, to the extent she can encourage it to her students, is a way of living.

Renee Brulottecq, who has studied under Cooper for eight years and who is now a first-degree black belt, says the training has deeply affected her. "It makes me feel less at war with the world," Brulotte said. And if there's one metaphor for life that's made the biggest qualitative difference for her, it's this: "If you don't resist it, it can be a wonderful ride."