Zach Biesanz and Michael Shane both studied aikido and later sought instruction in battodo after repeatedly hearing aikido teachers say aikido movements “come from the sword.” Turns out, there’s a lot more to cutting with a sword than mimicking the external movements. Biesanz, after training with Sang Kim, opened his Zentokan Dojo in 2016 with Shane joining within that year. Since then, Biesanz relocated to Minnesota and has helped establish Shane as the chief instructor at Zentokan Dojo. Today, Biesanz and Shane took some time to discuss their enjoyment, approach, and knowledge of battodo in the United States. All images provided by Zach Biesanz and Michael Shane. This is the second part of a two part interview. Read the first part here.
Part 3: Learning to Teach & Zentokan Dojo
MAYTT: That is deep. How did you start teaching and how did you figure out the best way to teach these nuanced aspects to your students?
Michael Shane: Zach Sensei should share the history of our teaching since it began with him, but I’ll start with the second part of your question. In my experience, serious study of budo demands patience and perseverance, as well as a willingness to confront the repeated challenges and discomfort that arise. One of my teachers, John Evans Sensei, explains the process like this in his book, Kurikara: The Sword and Serpent: “On the first day of training, sword and human meet as alien objects; over time they become one living thing. Eventually, the blade will magnify and project the actions of the body, reflect mood and mindset, and ultimately point the way to the core of being.”
Zach Sensei and I gladly tell new students their first few classes may be extremely boring. We love it when samurai movies, anime, or manga bring people to the dojo, but we’re honest with people about how what we do is different.
Especially in the context of our modern lifestyles, where many of us lead sedentary lives or work at desks all day, the body that modern life creates is antithetical to using the sword effectively. It’s not about being in or out of shape per se. It’s more about flexibility, openness in the joints, access to the tanden, evenness, and the natural inclination to rely on upper body strength first and foremost. When students first pick up the sword, they are very quickly seduced by the ability to swing something fast and hard. It’s a natural reaction, and the body and the mind choose the path of least resistance to that exciting feeling. Our job with beginners is to short circuit those inclinations for how to generate power by teaching proper posture, footwork, and enkeisen while building strength and flexibility in the legs. Usually, students arrive with a very stiff body, a very uneven body, and a very weak lower body. You need the opposite of each of those things to use the sword effectively. So, most beginners bring natural instincts and blockages that have to be dissolved in the early days so that we can allow more effective ways of using the body (and mind) to reemerge. It’s kind of a physical re-education process. And all of that has to happen before there can be any intellectual or emotional benefits. Otherwise, you risk indulging in fantasy, which is problematic.
Zach Biesanz: After I had been a student for a while, Kim Sensei actively supported my development as a future teacher by assigning me to work with beginners. He also spent time preparing me for teaching full classes, which paid dividends early because I had to help my senpai fill in as a substitute while Kim Sensei was dealing with an unexpected health issue.
At some point, Kim Sensei started telling me that if I ever wanted to start a study group in Brooklyn that he would support that. I didn’t give it serious consideration until Hal Lehrman Sensei invited me to see the new warehouse space he was moving Aikido of Park Slope to. Stepping into the spacious area, I immediately saw it as a perfect space for sword practice.
Emboldened by my teacher’s encouragement and the serendipity of a terrific space, I pitched Lehrman Sensei on the idea of me teaching sword classes there. We worked out an arrangement and it was time to get started, so I put the word out and took out a couple online ads. I didn’t know what kind of weirdos would show up, but to my surprise, three wonderful students showed up on the first day – two of whom (Nelson Pecora and Anthony Deen) are still around, have become integral to running the dojo, and have become very good swordmen in their own right. I was fortunate to have dedicated students from the beginning, allowing me to refine my teaching style and learn from my mistakes.
One challenge I had becoming a teacher was finding my own voice. One day I was watching a video I had taken from a cutting class, and listening to myself I realized that I sounded like I was doing an impression of Kim Sensei. I was still nervous about teaching, so I had been subconsciously anchoring myself to what I knew worked, but it wasn’t me.
For me, one of the most challenging aspects of teaching is learning how to effectively manage students’ mental load. Teaching martial arts, especially to beginners, requires a delicate balance between imparting enough knowledge to keep it interesting, without overwhelming the student with too much information. Kim Sensei taught me the importance of restraint – if you try to teach too many things in a single session, students are likely to retain very little. I’m my experience, this is entirely true. Trying to cover more than about three ideas in a single class can actually lead to frustration and slower progress for the student.
So, I focus beginners on fundamental concepts such as stance, drawing the sword, and sheathing it properly. They’ll have time for the details and the advanced stuff if they stick around.
As I continue to evolve as a teacher, I try to cultivate an atmosphere of growth, respect, and mutual support. It requires continuous learning and self-discovery, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my passion for martial arts with my students.
Like Kim Sensei did for me, I made sure to prepare my senior students to teach, at first just so I wouldn’t have to cancel class if I was out of town, etc. But eventually I started preparing them to take over the responsibilities of running the dojo too, especially once I started considering a job opportunity out of state.
This preparation involved more than just teaching them how to teach techniques—it encompassed a wide range of skills and responsibilities, including communication with students and our parent organization, financial management, event planning, and maintaining relationships with other dojos and instructors.
I had the luxury of gradually delegating responsibilities and allowing them to learn and grow into their roles over time, which made for a smooth transition while also maintaining the integrity and continuity of the dojo.
I won’t deny that I was nervous about passing on the responsibility, but I must say, Michael, Anthony, and Nelson have really stepped up. While I’m not there day-to-day to observe their teaching directly, I see the progress their students are making when I come back to visit. And I can confidently say they are managing the dojo better than I ever did on the administrative front, from maintaining a strong social media presence to organizing guest teacher events and fostering a positive relationship with our host dojo.
When I was considering taking a job elsewhere, I wondered if I could transfer the dojo in a way that preserves its spirit and values. The answer, it turns out, is a resounding yes. Michael was a natural choice for chief instructor, with his dedication, initiative, and thoughtful approach. He consistently demonstrates a strong work ethic and during the pandemic he reached out to Evans sensei and got deep into his tanren (鍛錬) internal development system.
Looking back, I realize I may have underestimated their capabilities, and I wish I had entrusted them with more responsibility sooner. Nevertheless, I couldn’t be prouder of their accomplishments, and I’m confident that the future of the dojo is in excellent hands.
Michael Shane: Zach Sensei is very kind. He’s one of my closest friends and a martial artist I admire deeply. So, when he says things like this, it means a tremendous amount to me. Working as a team of three to manage the dojo, we often find ourselves wondering how Zach Sensei ever managed it all alone. The workload is substantial, even with the three of us, but it feels appropriate and fulfilling.
I also wholeheartedly agree with Zach Sensei’s sentiments about our experience learning the ropes of running the dojo. We were fortunate to have had ample time and space to gradually familiarize ourselves with the responsibilities, and we had exceptional role models in Zach sensei and Kim sensei. Zentokan Dojo wouldn’t exist without Zach sensei, who studied with Kim sensei. And Kim sensei learned from Bob Elder sensei and Hataya sensei, who studied with Nakamura sensei. Each of these relationships has shaped our dojo in some way.
During the early days of Zentokan Dojo, I learned the importance of leading by example. I never teach anything that I can’t do myself. Whether it’s leading warm-ups, demonstrating suburi, or tackling the most challenging conditioning exercises, I’m right there with my students, giving it my all. If I cannot demonstrate a practical concept I’m not going to waste anyone’s time with the theoretical.
As I approach my forties, I’m grateful to be physically sound, and I’m fully committed to maintaining that standard. While I expect that my focus will change over the next few decades, my dedication to being a martial artist who practices what he teaches will remain steadfast.
MAYTT: It seemed like everything had a place; everything was done meticulously, not only in the teaching but in the transfer of the dojo.
Michael Shane (continued): The best teachers I’ve met have always been happy to admit when they don’t know something or when they’ve made a mistake. There’s no need to protect an image or maintain a cult of personality. Instead, there’s a genuine commitment to continuous improvement and a willingness to learn from every experience, including one’s own errors.
Zach sensei showed us how to take our training seriously – even meticulously as you said – without taking ourselves too seriously, and we maintain that atmosphere at the dojo today.
Furthermore, our dojo is a non-profit, and none of us get paid to teach. This freedom from commercial concerns allows us to focus 100% on our training and our community.
Zach Biesanz: Zentokan Dojo didn’t have to focus on retaining students at all costs. Even if we have just one student, our dojo still has a reason to exist. That means we are free from having to give students what they want, which might not align with what we really have to offer.
Some students want a very comfortable environment where not much is demanded of them, but we want to see students making progress toward what we value in battodo. And if they don’t like that, they don’t have to stay. We are very lucky in that we don’t need to keep them to keep the doors open.
Michael Shane: That’s a good way to say it.
MAYTT: I have talked to kendo people, and they have made it a point to not make money from it – it is about the art. It does not matter where the training is held, it is about the training.
Michael Shane: Proper, traditional Japanese martial arts training – budo (武道) – is inherently anti-commercial. It’s inherently difficult to commercialize, and generally not advisable to commercialize. Progress requires discomfort. Progress is slow. It’s deeply personal.
One of the things that’s wonderful about the sword is that if you do it properly, if you establish the correct practical foundations, you can use a sword effectively til the day you die. There are videos of Nakamura sensei doing embu near the end of his life. And certainly he’s an older person in the videos, and that comes through physically, but he is still moving and cutting with the sword according to the core principles that he established and taught. This emphasis on enduring principles over quick results isn’t always compatible with modern business models.
Our focus remains on genuine training and personal development, a principle shared by the larger organizations we are affiliated with, such as the US Federation of Battodo led by Kim sensei, and our Japanese federation, the Zen Nihon Toyama-Ryu Iaido Renmei. For us, it’s not about extracting money from people. It’s about training.
Part 4: The Battodo Curriculum
MAYTT: Absolutely. You bring up training and there are three distinct parts of battodo. What is your favorite aspect of battodo training and why?
Zach Biesanz: I love it all, but I could do gekken all day. It’s a deep study of conflict, human psychology, and the ability to remain centered and composed in unpredictable, hostile situations that unfold rapidly. Like aikido, it offers a lot to learn about human relationships.
But it’s just one piece of the puzzle. In our training philosophy, we emphasize the interconnectedness of kata, tameshigiri, and gekken. Each element informs the others, contributing to a holistic understanding of swordsmanship. This integrated approach helps us avoid drifting into kata that is more of a dance, cutting that is more of a sport, and sparring that is more like tag.
Michael Shane: The foundation of our training, often overlooked but crucial, is kihon (基本) – the basics. While it may not be as outwardly exciting as other aspects of our curriculum, I dedicate significant time to kihon practice each week. In my personal practice, I spend as much if not more time training without a sword as I do with one. This focus on fundamentals is where I believe the most significant progress is made, providing the groundwork for success when wielding the sword.
Zach sensei likened gekken to a laboratory, and to me all three elements of our curriculum – kata, tameshigiri, and gekken – are part of one comprehensive laboratory. This holistic approach sets our curriculum apart.
Our Toyama Ryu kata may seem simple at first glance, but their simplicity belies their depth. Progress in our art isn’t measured by accumulating technical knowledge but by cultivating a natural ability to move and cut with total freedom. Nakamura sensei called this “jiyu jizai” (自由自在), which means something like “freely free.”
The ultimate goal of our curriculum isn’t to master numerous kata or execute fancy cutting patterns. Instead, it’s about developing the ability to use the sword effectively under stress. This emphasis on practicality is what sets our training apart.
Zach Biesanz: Sometimes people come in with a fixation on the number of kata or the timeframe for learning them all or getting to a specific rank or whatever. I’m wary of kata collectors and rank collectors, because that’s not the good stuff, not why we’re here. While I’m always happy to welcome new students to the dojo, I want them to understand up front that there’s a lot more to it than learning sequences of moves and gathering certificates.
Ultimately, it’s about fostering an environment where genuine interest and dedication to the art can flourish, while gently discouraging superficial or misguided expectations.
Michael Shane: Also, if that’s what they’re interested in, they’re going to be disappointed. I’m very upfront with people because our kata are not fancy. To the untrained eye, they may not even look that impressive.
Zach Biesanz: Yes. It’s important to guide newcomers toward the actual good stuff, but it’s also important to respect their individual reasons for exploring the art. Everyone comes with their own motivations and expectations, and we try to orient them in a way that doesn’t discourage them outright.
“Ishi no ue ni mo san nen” (石の上にも三年) has always been a guiding principle in our dojo. Literally “three years on a rock,” the implication is that heating up a large boulder just by sitting on it will take a very long time. I interpret it to mean that if you want to be great at something, plan to start by putting in three years of solid effort with no encouragement and no external signs of progress. It requires a level of patience with yourself that most of us didn’t have on the way in the door. I kept it in mind when starting the dojo too: I didn’t want to get stuck judging myself for early mistakes, but instead find my rhythm and do my best and hopefully grow as a teacher.
MAYTT: I understand. That brings up a point after talking to some naginata, kendo, and koryu practitioners, there is this idea of finding the right person or gatekeeping. Is that something within the battodo community?
Michael Shane: I think we’re very open. There’s no gate on our dojo – it’s more like a screen door. We just like to be really honest about what it is that we’re doing – we try to avoid fantasy and elitism. We try to have a realistic view of our curriculum and what we offer and what we study and the historical and cultural context that it comes from. The US Federation of Battodo was created to allow practitioners from many different styles to be able to train together in community and friendship.
So there’s no gatekeeping. We’re also in no rush to take money from anybody. And we want people who join the dojo to feel like it’s a good fit for them. But we’re also keenly aware that it’s a big commitment. We want everybody to have as much information as they can get when they’re thinking about joining the dojo. It’s why we’re open about our practice on social media. It’s why we publish articles on our website from time to time.
Our approach to welcoming new students involves a deliberate effort to minimize any financial commitment upfront. We prefer to let individuals explore the practice without feeling pressured to spend money. Whether it’s trying a class or attending several sessions, we provide ample opportunities for newcomers to get a feel for our dojo.
Zach Biesanz: Our policy regarding new students is that we encourage prospective students to come and try a class without much hesitation. Unless it’s evident that they are completely unaware of what they’re getting into, in which case we suggest they observe a class first to gauge their interest. There’s definitely some appeal to that old trope about making someone wait in the rain for three days before we let them in to train, but we’re just not that kind of dojo.
It’s also important to me to make sure that finances are never a barrier for anyone who wants to train, so we offer scholarships for people who want to put a sincere effort into learning but can’t afford monthly dues. We enjoy the training. And that’s why we do it. And we want to be able to share that joy with other people. And hopefully, they can progress to the point where they’re getting something that they can take home with them into their lives. A relaxed mind, a certain kind of emotional intelligence, a centering, an understanding of conflict, how to deal with other people, how to learn. How to learn is a skill unto itself. How to teach is a skill unto itself. There are all these really valuable things that are ultimately severable from learning how to swing a sword really well. But we learn them from learning how to swing a sword really well.
Michael Shane: It’s that distinction from the everyday world that creates the environment where special things can happen. On our website, I mention the cultivation of shinshin renma (心身錬磨), a state of equanimity, adaptability, and responsiveness, both mentally and physically. It has martial applications but it’s not really about being able to cut someone down with a sword.
The sword is the tool I’ve chosen as a way to get there. And if that resonates with you as well, then you’d probably enjoy training at the dojo.
Part 5: Looking to the Future
MAYTT: Final question; with all that in mind, where do you think battodo will be in the next 10 to 15 years here in the United States? What does the future hold for battodo?
Zach Biesanz: For Toyama Ryu specifically, it seems to me that our community is gradually expanding. When I first started, there were only two schools in the NYC metro area: Byakkokan in Manhattan and Genbukan in Westchester. Since then, we’ve grown to six including Zentokan. Florida has several schools too. While there hasn’t been significant geographical expansion, we’ve grown in terms of the number of schools and teachers, and students keep showing up.
Here in Minnesota, I didn’t have to start a school from nothing because Seiryukan Dojo was already established. I’ve been able to step in and support Seth Cotner sensei, who took over when his teacher, Robert Steele sensei, passed a couple of years ago. It’s a luxury to be able to stay involved and still have a break from running things.
As far as the next ten to fifteen years, I think that as more of us gain experience and start to move around, we’ll see new dojos sprout up here and there. Hopefully we’ll maintain our friendships through that growth and still get together and train.
Michael Shane: I would like to emphasize something that has always been personally important to me and inherent in the way Zach sensei conducted things. The connection to Japan is extremely important. This art does not belong to us. Period. End of story. These experiences and relationships are essential to maintaining the integrity of transmission over time.
Budo should not exist in a geographical or cultural vacuum. Traditional martial arts must be studied in context to understand their origins and evolution. We are stewards of something special, something that transcends us and will outlive us. This is particularly important given that sword arts have more growth potential in the United States than in Japan for the time being, where they are niche pursuits, aside from kendo.
Maintaining the connection to Japan is vital for us and the dojo. It impacts our curriculum, operations, and many other aspects of our practice. It’s about honoring the heritage and lineage of the art while ensuring its continued authenticity, relevance, and survival.
While I can’t predict the future, I hope that over the next decade, we can uphold the legacy of the teachers who taught our teachers. It’s crucial that we stay true to the core principles of our art and honor the budo that has been passed down to us.
I hope that ten years from now, we’ll look back and we’ll say, “Yep, we’re still doing the right things for the right reasons.”
MAYTT: Thank you for this great conversation about your journeys through battodo!
This is the second part of a two part interview. Read the first part here.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 