Part 1: The Truth About Seniority
When I first started training, my first martial arts teacher— Sifu Dino Rhelos—taught me a lesson that shaped the way I approach leadership to this day.
After the first student joined our group after me, he pulled me aside and said: “You’re now someone’s senior. That means you have an obligation—to stay ahead. To outwork them. To outlearn them. To be able to guide them with quality.”
Seniority wasn’t a rank. It wasn’t a trophy. It was a burden that came with responsibility.
That same message was echoed by nearly every great mentor I’ve had:
- My football, basketball, and track coaches who demanded that leadership be earned through consistent performance.
- My college professors who never gave me a pass based on charm or reputation—only what I could prove.
- My classical guitar teacher, who never let me get away with mimicking brilliance. He made me own it.
- And every single teacher in martial arts, strength training, mental performance, and high-level coaching who made it clear: You don’t inherit greatness. You demonstrate it.
They all pushed me to show what I had learned. Not to hide behind who taught me.
The Problem: Borrowed Authority and Empty Seniority
Today, traditional martial arts are flooded with people who claim seniority but refuse to carry the weight that comes with it.
They:
- Quote their Sifu like a preacher quoting scripture.
- Brag about who they trained with instead of what they actually know.
- Hold up a picture with someone famous like it’s a diploma.
- Avoid teaching, avoid pressure, avoid accountability—but still expect reverence.
They want to cash in on borrowed authority instead of earning respect by delivering real results.
This cosplay nonsense is exactly why so much of traditional martial arts is falling behind. It’s become a stage play of false respect, empty rituals, and dodged challenges. Too many people are wearing the costume of a martial artist while avoiding the reality of what that role demands.
They’re not doing the work. They’re just playing dress-up.
The Fix: Prove It
If you want to call yourself a Sifu, prove you can teach. If you want to be respected as a senior, prove you’re still learning and leading. If you want to lead a school or a system, prove your students are better because of you.
Seniority isn’t claimed. It’s demonstrated.
And if you can’t do that—if your only credentials are pictures, old stories, or a title no one else respects—then step back. Because you’re not preserving the tradition. You’re choking it.
I don’t brag about my teachers. I reference them when the lesson fits. I don’t lean on their accomplishments. I let what they gave me show up in my work, my students, and the standards I hold.
I don’t want to be them. I want to honor them by building something they’d respect.
And if that’s not the point of being a “senior,” then what is?
Part 2: From Borrowed Authority to Earned Respect
So what if you see yourself in that first part? What if you’ve leaned too hard on your teacher’s name, your past accolades, or the mystique of your lineage?
Here’s the good news: You can still earn your place.
But it starts by getting uncomfortable.
1. Audit Your Skill in the Present Tense
Ask yourself honestly:
- Can you explain the mechanics behind what you do?
- Can you teach it to someone else and get results?
- Can you adapt under pressure, in real time?
If the answer is no, that doesn’t mean you’re disqualified. It just means you have work to do—and now you know where to start.
2. Start Teaching (Even One Person)
You don’t need a full school. You need one person who you can help develop consistently. Teach them what you know. Watch what works. Notice what doesn’t. Refine it.
That is where credibility starts.
3. Test Yourself Against Resistance
No more hiding behind theory.
Pressure-test what you teach:
- Sparring with skeptics who won’t just play along
- Drills with active resistance, not cooperative compliance
- Coaching under live conditions where failure is visible
- Getting feedback from students who don’t owe you loyalty
Seniority that survives pressure becomes earned leadership. Everything else is a costume.
4. Honor Your Teachers By Evolving the Art
Legacy isn’t repetition. It’s refinement.
The greatest teachers don’t want mimicry. They want the work to survive through evolution. So build on what you were given. Sharpen it. Challenge it. Make it stronger.
Not to replace your teacher—but to prove they were right to invest in you.
5. Lead With the Lesson, Not the Lineage
Drop the photo ops. Drop the appeals to authority. Drop the borrowed glow of someone else’s greatness.
Start leading with what you can do. What you can teach. What you can explain in a way that unlocks skill in others.
That’s how you become a real senior. Not by clinging to status. By carrying the responsibility that comes with it.
No one will care about the patch on your chest if what you teach can’t be felt in their bones.
The Ultimate Test
The final measure of true seniority isn’t in certificates or titles.
It’s in this simple question: Are your students better than you were at their stage?
If yes—you’re carrying the torch forward. If no—you’re letting it dim in your hands.
Real leadership isn’t about protecting your position at the top. It’s about lifting those behind you higher than you could ever climb alone.
That’s the burden of seniority. And it’s the only trophy worth having.
Ready to Step Into Leadership?
Start By Clicking Here Fory Your First Class Free!
About the Author
Dale Steigerwald is a seasoned educator, martial arts master, and leadership coach with over two decades of experience in both teaching and personal development. As the founder of the Academy of Ving Tsun Kung Fu, Dale has dedicated his life to helping individuals not just excel in martial arts, but to develop the mindset and discipline necessary for success in all aspects of life. Dale believes in leading by example, continually pushing the boundaries of personal growth, and ensuring his students reach their highest potential. Whether in the mokwoon or the classroom, his approach emphasizes authenticity, self-improvement, and an unwavering commitment to evolving as both a leader and a teacher.
If you liked this article, we bet you’ll love these:
It’s Not a Habit. It’s Just a Tendency. Stop Using the Wrong Word as a Shield.