I started martial arts in 1992, when I was at university. I wasn't a sporty or active kid. I never did sports. If it was time for a physical education lesson, I normally found a way not to be there.

But I wanted to find ways of self-defence. And I suppose it's also a very European thing – an Eastern mysticism associated with martial arts. When I was younger, it very much appealed to me, with understanding Zen, and other concepts.

I joined a school called Tatsu Do karate, which aligned with the human consciousness movement of the 1970s of trying to take your body to new spaces and the self-defence aspects of that.

I was involved with them for about six years but I wasn't out in that environment as I wasn't very out in those days. Until I was 21, it was illegal to be gay in England. People weren't out at university because there weren't gay spaces for people. I was in a small town called Derby. I suppose if you're in the big cities like London, you might find a different experience, but certainly not in Derby.

In ‘97, I moved to Manchester, which has a very big and thriving gay community and it became very easy to be out and publicly gay.

I started doing jujitsu and really liked it — it struck a chord with me. But there was a lot of language used in that environment that is very homophobic. There's a lot of toxic masculinity that exists in martial arts spaces. It appeals to the insecure male ego of “I'm going to be stronger than you, bigger than you, faster than you, more than you.”

That's not what martial arts are about. They’re meant to be about yourself, not about being better than someone. That would be a sport, I suppose, but not an art.

‘That's not martial arts, that's just rubbish’: How can gender determine strength?

Our school had equal opportunities, but they didn't publicly challenge sexist or homophobic behavior. In one class, this person who they felt hadn't worked the hardest, had to wear a pink belt in the next lesson.

What does that say? That there's something wrong with wearing pink? That it’s feminine? That feminine is weak? Why do you have these engendered thoughts regarding what’s strong and what’s effective?

That's not martial arts, that's rubbish.

One of the senior teacher based his entire teaching on homophobic scenarios, so he’d be going like, “If a man puts his hand on you, or if a man looks at you.”

And I’d think, “Hold on a minute. Firstly, all your techniques are attacking gay men. Secondly, you're not a nice looking man, so why would anyone want to touch you or look at you in the first place?”

Instead of the other people and senior teachers stepping forward to say, “We don't have that happening here, we won't allow that and we apologize for that,” they just remained silent, and people laughed.

I was just a low level blackbelt, I was not in a position to challenge that, so I wrote to the person in charge, and I said, “Not only did you just tolerate this behavior, you actually condoned it through your silence. You then gave this guy an award for his contribution to martial arts at the end of the session. So you celebrated someone who has stated really hateful views.”

And now, 20 years later, you record that as a hate crime in England.

The guy who was in charge was like, “Oh no, as soon as it finished, I went and spoke to him about it.”

And I'm like, “It doesn't matter, because you allowed that behaviour publicly, and all the harm that was done. All the people that felt that and heard that in that room, thought it was the acceptable way to behave. So I'm not coming back to this environment ever.”

That was the end of that.

Through our existence, we give others the right to enjoy their own existence

My school Ikiyōyō-Ryu Bujutsu in Manchester, is centered around the concept of how through our existence, we give other people the right to enjoy their own existence and that we empower people to be themselves.

I have a lot of privilege as a white, middle-aged, professional, cisgender man in Britain. If I don't use that privilege to empower others, what is the point of that privilege? I'm just part of the oppression.

Martial arts certainly have a tendency to be very male-oriented, and in England, they are very white male oriented. There are no Asian women in senior roles in martial arts. There aren’t many Black, Asian and minority ethnic groups, and women and girls are massively underrepresented.

When you get to Asian women in sport in England, they're the least represented group of people out of any group of people.

Many martial arts classes might claim that anyone can come, but that doesn't mean they're going to expect you to behave in a way that is acceptable.

At Ikiyōyō-Ryu Bujutsu, the main areas we look at are around age, gender identity, sexual orientation. We're actively promoting our space as a safe place for Asian women. I can proudly say that about one third of my class has Asian women in martial arts; we have an age range of people in their 60s; we have a number of people who are neurodiverse.

By saying we're going to be an LGBTQI+ inclusive space, people know they're coming to an inclusive space. If we say we're going to challenge biphobia, transphobia, and homophobia, people know we’re going to challenge racism, people know we're going to challenge sexism, people know that we're not going to promote a sense of toxic masculinity within our space.

These open discussions happen quite a lot in my space. Getting 18-20 year old men to have these discussions in that space is a really healthy thing, because they are the target audience for change for the future.

If you're not safe in the dojo, then where would you be safe?

During lockdown, I was pondering about how to make martial arts spaces visibly inclusive. Most martial arts clubs in the UK, and probably in the world, are amateur clubs that are volunteer-led, and they don't own their own space.

If this isn't someone's main job, they're not going to have the funding to come and do a day-long training course around inclusive practice. But they may still be committed to inclusive practice, and want to know more.

How can we put a pride flag on the websites of all the different martial arts of the world? How could we get people to make a basic commitment to being inclusive?

I started Village Dojo just simply so people could say: this is a LGBTQI+ inclusive space.

A club doesn't have to be run by LGBTQ+ people, and it doesn't have to even have any LGBTQ+ members to be inclusive. But it has to say: “When you arrive here, you won't hear language that would be hurtful to you. You won't receive bullying from other members of the club, or see behaviors that are untoward.”

It's really important that we make environments inclusive for everyone. And that's certainly been part of my mission in my own school – to be as inclusive as we can be, and to acknowledge the different contributions that people bring within a space.

At Village Dojo, you cannot use hateful language and go unchallenged. Our first priority is to protect everyone, and surely that's what martial arts are about: being safe. If you're not safe in the dojo and in the training space, then where would you be safe?

We want people to be able to express themselves. We've had a number of trans young men who have come to training with us, and we have a reasonable size of LGBTQI+ people training.

Traditionally, in England, these environments are dominated by straight, white, cisgender men, so it's great to see those barriers come down.

If you don't care who I am, you don't care about me, do you?

Being inclusive is also a matter of making sure that the way that we train is accessible. It's not just about doing 500 Press-ups. We need to teach techniques and movements that work for everyone at all times through a multi-layered, multi-systemic understanding of what a learning environment is.

Because if the actual core curriculum excludes people, then you haven't actually made progress.

One of the gaps that prevent most spaces from creating an inclusive environment is motivation. Currently, there are 51 clubs registered through Village Dojo. The way I get clubs to join Village Dojo is by first choosing a city and searching ‘martial arts classes’. Then, I email every single martial art class. Ultimately, maybe two reply.

Every now and again, you'll just get classes that believe their space is open to LGBTQI+ folks because it is ‘open to everyone’.

But people have to acknowledge their space isn't actually open to everyone.

I'm quite a big guy, and I have to acknowledge that when people look at me, they might find me aggressive, intimidating, many different things – so I have to acknowledge my own position, and how people will position me in having even the most basic discussions. Because people will look at me and they'll think, “Oh, you look someone who will shout at us unless we're aggressive in martial arts, and so on.”

To be able to say, “Hello, welcome, it's lovely to see you,” is the first most important thing we can do to anyone in any environment.

I've had white straight men say to me, “Is this really necessary? In this day and age, that we need to sign on to Village Dojo?”

Well, yes, it is. Unless you're saying it is a problem, you're not recognizing it. It’s like the American army line, “Don't Ask, Don't Tell.”

They take a view of not being bothered, and of not caring about what we are. But actually, if you don't care who I am, you don't care about me, do you?

We as LGBTQ+ people, have had our existence questioned from the day we're born

Everyone has different experiences of life, and you have to acknowledge that LGBTQI+ folks often have a different journey than cisgender, straight people.

We as LGBTQ+ people, have had our existence questioned from the day we're born. It doesn't matter what point you become aware of your sexual orientation, gender identity or your general queerness. All of history to that point, and all that goes forward from it, has told you that ‘normal’ is straight and cisgendered and that whatever else is going on, is not normal.

So we’ve had to acknowledge those questions and live through the experience of that doubt.

A straight, white, non-disabled person might never have questioned their identity, and might have no motivation to understand why someone else has suffered through the questioning of their identity. So cis-straight run martial arts clubs often don't see why they should do more.

And people don't want to say, “What I have been doing is wrong.”

Until all sports clubs question themselves, they won't come up with the answer that they probably won't like. The answer is: you're stopping other people from training, you are stopping other people from participating, and you're stopping other people from enjoying what your sport is.

Martial arts offers so much in physical wellbeing, emotional wellbeing, community, and communication and negotiation skills. And I want everyone to have these opportunities. I don't just want everyone to have them, I want everyone to want these opportunities. I want everyone to enjoy them and get something from them.

If you asked most sports clubs or martial arts clubs what their motivation is, I’m not sure that many of them would conclude that they ultimately want people to be happy.

They'd probably say, “To win, to be stronger, to be fitter to be more this to be more this or less that.”

I might be the most inclusive martial arts space, but nowhere near where I could be

Sport slides comfortably into a world of physical exclusion very, very easily. Even within Paralympic environments, we can see non-inclusive behaviours.

We're seeing wheelchair users doing marathons in the sprint, and it is amazing and wonderful. But they're not the same wheelchair user as the man who lives down my road, who can only get out if someone comes to help him.

A lot of people don't have that opportunity, and where are we giving those people those opportunities, and where are we actively looking to involve everyone in everything that we do?

So first, you've got to ask the question, “Are we inclusive?”

Then you've got to say, “We're not inclusive.”

I'm not inclusive enough. I'm probably the most inclusive martial arts school, and I’m definitely nowhere near where I could be. There's a long way to go.

The next is to address your behaviours within that space: Are you using gendered language? Are you prioritizing certain groups within that space? Are you making sure that everyone is welcome from that very first moment? Or are you making an environment which excludes some people?

You’ve got to address your language, you've got to address the language of other people in that space, you've got to know your policy.

If you join my class, I ask your pronouns. I ask if you've got a disabilities. When you come to my class, you know you’re coming into an inclusive space.

Who are we, who will we be, and how can we make a space that everyone can access?

I’ve been physically fortunate in toxic spaces. I was fitter, faster, stronger and a better fighter than most of the people. I was probably more masculine in their binary thinking than most cisgender men consider themselves to be.

But I found it wearing – the language is sexist, homophobic, racist. The only way to deal with it sometimes is to disconnect with them. Fortunately I have the support of Kodō Butoku Renmei, the largent Japanese martial arts organisation in England. The head of that school has been really supportive in helping me establish my school in my image, and validating it.

There isn't really a right or wrong martial art. But there’s a need for validation – to have what you’re doing be recognized for quality.

Having the support of other larger organisations has been really important – the students coming feel like they’re coming to something that’s much bigger than just this space.

Visibility is important, but visibility isn't everything. Not everyone wants to be visible. You don't have to be the gay person in the club every day of every week. You can be if you want to, and for some people you might be. For some people, my class is the only place they meet gay people. For some white people, it’s the only place they meet Asian people.

It’s about bringing different people into an environment, and saying that we want everyone in this space, we celebrate everyone in this space, and we want what they bring to this space.

If people make mistakes, they apologise. People make mistakes all the time, and we challenge them by saying, “We don’t say that in here.”

The crux of Village Dojo is to get as many clubs as possible to understand that their behaviours need to be better, and to dismantle the macho narratives in martial arts. Most of us don’t look like that, we aren’t that and we don’t want to be like that.

So who are we, who will we be, and how can we make a space that everyone can access?