How to Choose a Good Dojo (And Why Most People Get It Wrong)

Choosing a good dojo has never been easier.

When I was a kid, looking for a proper school where I could actually make progress, you had to scour the Yellow Pages and pray something existed close enough that you could get to it on the bus. Usually there wasn’t. And if there was, your decision came down to whatever artwork they slapped into the ad. A dragon? A fist? Some guy mid-air kicking nothing? Good school or bad — who knew? You were judging the future of your training off a picture.

I’ve shown up to places where nobody greeted me. I mean literally nobody. You’d walk inside, stand there awkwardly, and wonder if the cash box on the table was the only thing running the dojo that day.

Some schools wouldn’t even let you look inside the training room. Windows boarded up like a speakeasy. No parents allowed to watch. No friends allowed to sit in. Just this weird old-school belief that the techniques were “secret,” reserved only for the chosen few who paid their monthly dues. It had a little cult energy, if we’re being honest.

But things changed.

And I got lucky. I ended up in a place where parents could watch their kids practice right off the floor. Where you could bring your friends, let them hang out, even invite them to join in. That’s the first rule in choosing a school — look at the gatekeepers. How open is the gate?

Me? I took the whole gate off on day one.

Martial arts are meant to be shared. There’s nothing to steal. On the contrary — we’re taught to steal. Steal what’s useful and discard the rest.

All the mystic nonsense from the old days — the chi blasts, the secret techniques, the “I can knock you down with my energy” theatrics — that’s long gone. Most of it was invented by guys who learned their martial arts philosophy from late-night kung-fu movies because information used to be slow and hard to get.

My sensei used to decorate the dojo with those hanging bead curtains you’d see in Chinatown. Why? Because it was the closest thing he could find that looked “Asian” and vaguely karate-ish on an afternoon trip downtown.

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Today, you’ve got a window into every school within striking distance. You don’t have to guess anymore. You open your phone and boom — you can see everything.

And I’ll say it straight:

If that school happens to be a Northern Karate, your search is probably over.

But let’s be fair.

How do you actually choose a school when everything you’re seeing is filtered through Google or Instagram?

It’s simple — look at the vibe.

Are the classes full?

Are kids running around having fun?

Are parents relaxed on the benches, sipping coffee, looking comfortable?

Does the place look clean enough that you don’t get the heebie-jeebies stepping on the mats?

And the heebie-jeebies are real.

Athlete’s foot and all that other fungal misery — it exists.

I never caught it on our floors, but people who trained elsewhere absolutely did.

Do the teachers look competent?

Do they explain things clearly?

Is it a one-person show or a full team? Both models can work — you just need to know which one fits you.

Ask yourself what you’re actually looking for.

A place to grow?

Or a place to blow off steam?

And here’s the real question:

Can the dojo adapt when you change your mind?

When you decide you want to take it more seriously — or less seriously — will they support that?

Do they focus on competition or not?

And if they do, what kind?

Different worlds, different cultures.

But here’s the trap:

Don’t judge the quality of a school based on snapshots of the students.

Martial arts is the only activity on earth where people judge us by what we look like mid-training — everyone trying to move perfectly, in sync, like some martial marching band.

It looks impressive.

But it also scares people away.

A lot of beginners look at that and think,

“I could never do that.”

Some people look at great martial arts and say, “No thanks. I just want to put gloves on and hit something.”

Great.

Find a place where you can do exactly that.

And if the school is good, you might slowly brush against the same excellence that scared you at the start.

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And here’s another thing —

If the teachers never smile, run.

It means they don’t enjoy what they’re doing either.

Avoid the dojos where instructors take themselves too seriously, act too important, and expect you to treat them like royalty.

Martial arts isn’t supposed to feel like a cult meeting.

And remember — 90% of all martial arts students are kids.

So if you’re an adult who ends up standing next to a kid in class, don’t get your panties in a bunch.

You’re not being disrespected.

You’re not being “demoted.”

You’re just training — like everyone else.

Just keep kicking.

You’ll be fine.

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And if you already have a school that gives you what you’re looking for, then help them out.

It’s hard work running a good dojo.

There are bills, salaries, repairs, equipment — it’s not the money-printing machine people imagine. Most dojo owners are barely keeping the lights on some months.

So if you like your dojo — if you trust the teachers, if you enjoy the people you train with — don’t keep it a secret.

Tell your friends.

Share the dojo’s social media posts.

Leave a great review on Google.

A school that grows gives you more room to swim.

More partners.

More classes.

More experiences.

More chances to level up.

You’re not lining the Sensei’s pockets — you’re paying the expenses that keep the place running and giving your instructors the ability to travel, train, and bring back new knowledge for you.

Some of the best teachers in the world work a full-time job all day and teach all night. Noble? Absolutely. Exhausting? Also absolutely.

But wouldn’t it be better if a martial arts teacher could just teach?

More bodies on the floor won’t ruin your experience — not if the school does its job, expands its space, and hires more staff as it grows.

In fact, a bigger school can often offer more for a lower price.

Growth doesn’t hurt a good dojo.

It strengthens it.