The Master's Hand

The Master’s Hand

Reflections on mentor, and former teacher, Master Lorenzo Gibson

A reunion I won’t forget.

I stood in the do jang office and nervously waited for further instruction from the teacher. Korean martial arts is a very different skill set from other forms, and I was about to try and prove that my Korean heritage made me a natural. Just then Lorenzo Gibson, a highly decorated fourth degree Tae Kwon Do black belt, asked me to perform a side kick and front punch. I hesitated, since I didn’t really know what either one looked like, and eventually managed a literal kick to my right side and a punch in front of me. Lorenzo looked interested in my potential, but I didn’t think I was ready, and decided to hold off joining Mr. Gibson’s school for a few more months.

It was the summer of 1988, and I was only six years old when I first met Master Lorenzo Gibson. The man was lean and fast as lighting, yet could strike with accuracy of a sniper, and the force of a wrecking ball. Master Gibson ran a very successful South Richmond based Tae Kwon Do school in the peak of the karate craze. The movie, The Karate Kid had come out a few years earlier, and Jean Claude Van Dam was just hitting the big screen. Bruce Lee was already a legend, but others like Jackie Chan and Jet Li had yet to be introduced to the American mainstream. Whatever my intentions, I was hooked, and on my 7th birthday I began my first class at Lorenzo’s martial arts studio.

The years went by fast! I was a quick learner, and naturally athletic for my age. When I was learning martial arts there were really no such things as children’s classes, and I often competed against adults and bigger kids. I practiced several times a week for 90 minutes, worked on my forms, Korean language, sparring, and board breaking. My belt seemed like it went from white to yellow, and soon to red in a fairly short period of time. By the time I was nine years old I was an experienced fighter, and had learned some of the key principals that I would cling to for the remainder of my life. Have respect, integrity, honesty, dedication and humility. Master Gibson never failed to remind us that regardless of what color belt we have, and in all aspects of life, not just martial arts, these teachings can be applied.

On April 19, 1991, two months shy of my 10th birthday, I passed a rigorous examination to become the youngest black belt in the state of Virginia. Several months after that I left Master Gibson’s school forever in order to pursue my growing passion for another sport I was gifted in, baseball. That was the last time I saw Master Lorenzo Gibson. Aside from my parents, and a select few teachers, Lorenzo Gibson’s teachings were an integral part of my childhood and development. I have had many varsity coaches, and “scholarly” professors who lacked the pure passion for people and sharing his gift. Lorenzo wanted YOU to become a better person. In the decade that followed I would rebel against many of the values that I held so dear, as only a child would, and although those teachings were never forgotten, they were indeed dormant into my teen years.


I never did forget about Master Gibson, or the many other students I learned with under his guidance. Over the years I stopped by our old school location only to find that it was no longer there. I figured Lorenzo had gone his own way and probably started his own school, or maybe moved. In 2006, I re-attempted to locate my old teacher and found his new location, yet failed to actually see him when I stopped by.

Only July 16th, 2010 I sat as a spectator in one of Master Lorenzo’s classes. I was thrilled to see him doing what I have always known him to do, and honestly just happy to see my old friend. Watching him work with his new students brought back a rush of childhood memories, whether it was him showing me how to break a board, or shift my body to a correct stance. The students, like before, showed the utmost respect, saying “yes sir”, and bowing at the appropriate times. Then the class ended, Master Lorenzo saw me and walked over with a very puzzled look on his face. He asked “Do I Know you?. I replied “Indeed you do, it’s been 20 years!” Without a second thought he says “Mike!” Twenty years later I have long hair, am a foot taller, and not to mention Lorenzo has taught thousands of students…and yet, he remembered my name.

For the next 20 minutes he introduces to all his students, like I was some celebrity, and we try to catch up on 20 years of life. Master Lorenzo is 56 now, but time has been kind to him. He is still a physical specimen and just as fast as he was before, though he says he limits the really tough tricks. His daughter, who I met just after she was born, is a 20 year old VCU student, and his son who wasn’t born yet is now 18. Perhaps the greatest thing I wanted to tell Lorenzo was that I had never forgotten what he taught me as a seven year old child. I told him I run long distance ultra marathons now, but I still apply the things he taught me during, and outside of races. He said hearing that from me meant a great deal to him, and confirmed that all his work over the years did matter, and still matters today. Neither one of us could stop smiling, and we could have talked for hours, maybe days, but he had places to be and our time was up. Master Lorenzo was the last person in the do jang when I left that day. As any respectful student would do for their teacher, I turned back towards my mentor, put my feet together, and bowed.

We will be in touch soon.