What 30 Years Teaching Self-Defence Has Taught Me About Connection & Trust

For over 30 years, I've taught people from all walks of life—young adults to seniors—how to protect themselves through violence prevention and self-defence. Over this time, my teaching has evolved, not just in what I teach but also in how I teach. I hope to offer some insights to others passionate about sharing their knowledge.

When I first started, I knew the content well, but I focused on delivering it in a way that would grab attention. I was nervous, worried about coming across poorly, and didn't yet understand or even think about how to connect deeply with my students. Back then, I saw a class of 20 people as one group, not as 20 unique individuals. I didn't yet know how to "read the room" or recognize when someone might be dealing with personal trauma, like abuse.

Over the next few years, as my confidence grew and I received more feedback, I began to find my path in teaching. It was rewarding to hear how much my clients enjoyed the process and had fun while learning these essential skills. But at that time, my approach was still quite structured: I would teach, answer a few questions, listen to some personal stories, and then move on to the next topic. I can't say I yet noticed or recognized the signs of individuals to whom I was "directly" speaking with the content. I was still focused on the group.

The next thing I noticed was that I was hearing more and more stories, but I hesitated to listen to them all because it was affecting my course structure. I had an outline that I had to stick to and complete, even at the expense of someone sharing a story that would be valuable to the participants.

It was at that point that I recalled a story of an assault I saw as a pre-teen that shifted my focus. I have shared the story before in posts, so I won't give all the details again, but what stood out is how I had blocked it out as a witness, so I could only imagine how she must have felt. I began wondering how she felt, whether she sought support and many other questions.

This was the most significant turning point in my teaching. Everything changed when I saw each group as a collection of individuals rather than just a class. This shift was especially noticeable in schools or teaching small groups of women. In schools, while most of the class would be engaged, having fun, and learning, one or two students always stood out to me, even if their classmates didn't notice.

I began to get good at reading their body language and could tell who was deeply impacted by the topics. Some would sit back, closing themselves off, with expressions of sadness, trauma, or even fear. Others would lean in, focused and hanging on every word. I didn't do or say anything that would draw attention to the students, but I would be more mindful of my message, hoping they might approach me after class with further questions.

I say "hoping" because I wasn't permitted to approach students directly to explore their feelings further as an instructor in a school setting. My goal was to create a sense of trust through my message so they would feel comfortable approaching me after class. The real challenge was building that connection in such a short time. After only an hour of seeing me teach, I can imagine their internal struggle—unsure if they could trust someone they barely knew.

With students countless students would speak to me after class, I would bring them together with the teacher and administration, and then I was no longer involved. All I could do then was hope they were on a journey to help them address their trauma. But it is frustrating knowing many were not at a point where they could reach out. Some did via email, and some even years later through an email or call, but there were many I still wonder about and where they are today, hoping they are well.

I found it much easier to create a trusting environment when teaching small groups of women, especially in more intimate settings where friends often surrounded them. Some would openly share their stories with the group, and I would simply listen and engage in meaningful discussions. Others preferred to speak to me privately after class. I always approached these conversations with great care, fully aware of the courage it takes to open up to someone they've just met.

Another impactful setting is when I teach one-on-one with someone who has faced a direct threat and is ready to take action to protect themselves and their family. Honestly, these sessions have had the most profound effect on me. Hearing stories of abuse, often horrific, and being looked to for guidance was both humbling and challenging.

I want to convey here that the turning point in my teaching came when I realized that I'm not just teaching groups—I'm teaching individuals. Once I learned to see and connect with the individual within the group, I began to understand who I was really speaking to on a much deeper level.

If I could offer one piece of advice to other instructors, it would be this: sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is stay quiet, observe, and listen before you speak. And when you do speak, choose your words with care.

Keep SAFE!

Christopher Roberts

www.safeinternational.biz