10 Questions with James Morganelli

What is your martial arts biography?

I started training Karate at a community center in my hometown when I was nine. Once I went through the course, I joined a Tae Kwon Do/Hapkido school in the next town over and a wrestling group at another grammar school, as mine didn’t offer it.

In high school, I floated around different schools, went to seminars, and trained a lot on my own, including weight training. At 16, at the height of the “Ninja Boom” I traveled to Nebraska to train with Robert Bussey, marketing his own brand of “modern Ninjutsu.” I would continue long-distance training with him for the next several years. Bussey had limited training with Hatsumi Sensei and Nagato Sensei and had received rank from them. But by the time I was training with him, he had split from everything Bujinkan. 

Bussey was good at what he did, but I would come to realize it wasn’t what I was looking for – it was primarily based on speed and power. His leadership would later get the better of him - his organization, "Robert Bussey’s Warrior International," fractured when a score of his top folks deserted him. It was at that time, I and several others in a training group based in Madison, Wisconsin, left as well.

At 18, I was concurrently training in Genbukan Ninpo, with Michael Coleman in Milwaukee, who was ranked under Shoto Tanemura and his organization. At the time, I had no idea of the vast differences or history between the Genbukan and Bujinkan, and since Coleman was close to my university, I traveled there occasionally. Coleman also hosted the first seminar for Tanemura that I attended. Eventually, I grew weary training with Coleman, unhappy with his approach.

I was training a lot over those years – with my own group at the University of Wisconsin, Whitewater, the group in Madison, and working out on my own. I also attended regional seminars, with folks like Stephen Hayes and his wife, Rumiko, or the time Tadashi Yamashita - headmaster of Shorin Ryu Karate and well known as “Sakura” from the Chuck Norris movie “The Octagon” - taught at a small local dojo. 

Back then I was prone to extremes - brutal sparring, violent techniques, and tough-guy attitudes. We practiced dive rolling over the roof (yes the roof) of my friend’s hatchback, broke patio blocks with our hands, and sometimes did pretty stupid stuff. Looking back, it all seemed like good fun at the time, but it was pretty dangerous.

I eventually transferred to the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and would graduate from there. Unhappy with any of the martial arts on campus, I began my own group and called it “Sentokai,” or "combat society" (hey, at 21, it sounded cool). We would become about six people strong and larger from time to time. I had my share of close calls then too when other folks showed up to see how good I was, like the Russian Kung Fu expert who tried to take my head off. This was also the height of my weight training - at 150 lbs I was bench pressing 320 lbs.      

After graduation in 1995, I moved to Japan and stayed with family friends in Tokyo until I found a job. Thanks to a fortuitous meeting there (in truth, an impossible series of coincidences), I began training in the Bujinkan. A fellow by the name of Paul Nolasco turned out to be one of Hatsumi Sensei’s early foreign translators. Paul began my training and would eventually set me on the right path. I can’t thank him enough. I joined Nakadai Sensei’s group at first, but eventually found myself drawn to Nagato Sensei.

During my time in Japan, I was promoted quickly, jumping a few ranks. I even took the Godan test a scant two years after beginning training, when Nagato Sensei himself ordered me to. I took the test twice, once at Ayase when Hatsumi Sensei buried a shinai in my head with a resounding “NO!” and then a week later - a much harder test, that still gives me chills to this day.

I returned home and began teaching others reluctantly and eventually founded the Shingitai-Ichi Dojo, meeting many wonderful people over the years, including Mark Hodel, Jack Hoban, and my own students, many of whom have been with me now going on 15 years or more.

Training also led me to the love of my life. Hatsumi Sensei had studied Makko ho, a Japanese stretching art, and incorporated the four simple movements into training - we know them as the Ryutai Undo. When I heard about someone teaching Makko Ho here in Chicago, I couldn’t help but look them up. I would meet and fall for Tomoko Horikawa, who has brought love, strength, kindness, compassion, and grace into my life. 

Thanks training!

Why do you train?

Training offers me the best path I know of to become the kind of person I want to be.

What do you think is/are the core value(s) of martial arts training?

Through enduring training, we can learn to recognize humanity's guiding motivations and values and in turn gain the clarity to properly respect, protect, and defend ourselves and others. One of these ways is in the tempering of one's ego.

Can you explain your method of training and teaching?

As a Budoka, I've always made the distinction between practicing to eventually get good at some point in the future, and training to be good today. The reality is life is today, not when we decide we're ready for it. The time I share with my teachers and students is really borrowed time. In some cases, as with senior students, we've had a lot of time together and shared many memories. In other cases, like traveling to Japan, a seminar, or a student who never comes back, not so much. The world can change in a single moment, and the time we have together may be the only time we have. We should always be grateful for it and try to make the most of it.     

So, I've always allowed students to discover their training through context. Rather than have new students memorize and program themselves with "proper" form or procedure at the outset, which is really about preserving the art, I have them plug into the fundamental principles - positioning, leverage, and initiative - through effective movement to recognize opportunity and advantage, eventually refining their ability through alignment. 

I've found this method to be far more successful than being strict with form and loading them down with information, which normally is overwhelming since they have little clue as to how to organize it all to keep it coherent. It's like forcing proper form on a new golfer - now they can't play the game, let alone enjoy it. Besides, form is a tricky concept. To me, there is no form except that due to the context of the moment. Better to ask what "outcome" someone is trying to create. 

Martial arts are natural to humans. We've been dealing with their instincts and abilities for millennia and that's how I try to introduce them - from the inside out. My method is to get people's common sense "re-activated" to be useful, able, and "viable." That way, martial arts makes natural sense and they themselves can align their own form over time.

Is there a “secret” to training?

Yes - "Keep going!" Persevere. Endure. Show up and keep showing up. We learn nothing without the discipline to consistently put our feet on the mat. 


What would you recommend others do to improve their training?

Be honest, be viable, and be "free." 

Be honest with your partner - intentionally resist them, try to strike them or upset their position, and make sure they do the same for you. Honesty is the touchstone of the "survivor/protector ethic." It must be ever-present in the form of "conditions," otherwise there can be no truth to training. 

Be viable - utilize only the necessary amount of tactical space you require to keep you honest. This has to do with not trying to win or beat your opponent, but simply remaining un-defeated by them. 

And lastly, be "free" - intuitively imaginative in your movement. Rather than act as if you are training someone else's martial art, recognize that one’s training and ability is theirs to own - you have to move like you.  

What are the biggest differences today than when you first began training?

Confidence is high. Years ago, folks were incredibly cautious about training because there was not a lot of information about it or certainty about what to do with it. Now, everybody seems to be sure, even with vastly different approaches. It's a better state to be in, for sure, because it promotes innovation in thought and the means of training. The down side is when folks can't tell the difference between knowledge and wisdom. 

There will always be plenty of new students just looking for "enter-train-ment," but martial artists should always strive to dig deeper to offer training's intrinsic values and virtues to themselves and their students.  

What is the role a martial artist plays in our world?

A martial artist can be a needed and necessary leader in a single moment - the example that others ought to follow. But without the right training, we may have trouble recognizing that moment and it may just pass us by when it desperately needs us.

What one thing would you contribute to a “Book of Knowledge?”

Acknowledge the right to excel. 

Critical thinking, introspection, and one’s own sense of self direction in their training may just be the way forward.

Do you have any great hope for the future of martial training? 

The more we can offer training, the more people can have the opportunity to contribute to the well being of themselves and others. If we continue to refine ourselves and our approach, I firmly believe we really can make the world a better and safer place.