In the Space Between Strength and Stillness: Life Lessons through Karate
- BeWellAdmin
- 11 minutes ago
- 3 min read

It was a dark, rainy evening after class on Sunday. As I entered the Combat Room on the third floor of the ARC, I thought I was seeing double, but it was actually Tia (MA, Cultural Studies ‘22) and Tiffanie Bankosky (BASc, Engineering Physics ‘20). The twin instructors at the Queen’s Karate Club welcomed me with cheery enthusiasm, and I found myself listening to a story about stepping up and learning when to slow down.
They’ve lived in Kingston since childhood. Queen’s was somewhere they visited on school trips and summer camps. Meitoku-ha Goju ryu karate entered their lives early at the Boys and Girls Club and Tallack Martial Arts, long before either of them imagined teaching students of their own.
When Tiffanie arrived at Queen’s in 2017, she already knew the Queen’s Karate Club existed. Joining felt natural yet leading it did not. Over the summer, she learned that the entire executive team was graduating. “All of a sudden it was like, we don’t have a president,” she remarked. Before classes even began, Tiffanie found herself responsible for rebuilding the club from the ground up under the guidance of head instructor, Sachil Singh.
Tia’s path looked different but echoed the same pattern. After completing her undergraduate degree, she came to Queen’s for her master’s and connected with the Queen’s Karate Club. Her own training had not always been linear – there were periods where injury forced her to step back, and practice kata through mental visualization. When she joined the club at Queen’s, she got involved as treasurer and, often, an instructor.
Both talked about these experiences coolly. Responsibility wasn’t framed as a burden or a triumph; it was simply what needed to be done. “I was just used to being given responsibility,” Tiffanie said. Listening to them, it was clear that leadership, for them, was all about attention. This level of care shows up most clearly in how they teach. In their classes, karate is not learned through disciplined repetition, but a fun student-focused environment, fit for recreation and unwinding after a long day of classes. If you drop into one of their classes, you might be greeted with a quip and a sense of community.
Of course, the culture of respect for senior students and instructors persists - it’s embedded within karate. Tia and Tiffanie take it one step further by grounding their teaching in approachability. Their classes encourage a space where students feel comfortable asking for clarification and requesting extra support without hesitation. Tia notes that “a lot of new students come in worried because they don’t have experience with martial arts.” But the twins want to dispel this concern: it is exactly this type of low-stakes teaching style that welcomes beginners to the world of karate.
They describe traditional Okinawan karate as a holistic practice, one that connects physical movement with mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. Mindful breathwork and meditation are central. Tia spoke about how inward-focused practices like Sanchinor Mokuso can be grounding for some students and overwhelming for others. Practices that slow the body down and draw attention to the stillness of the present through breath and tension can sometimes surface discomfort. “[For] some people, it can be challenging,” she said quietly. In those moments, students are pulled aside. The priority becomes helping students feel supported, offering options to take a break, step outside, or simply observe. All are totally OK – participation is always adaptable to the needs of students. Teaching, as Tia describes, is a constant act of reading the room and improvising. What really matters is that students feel safe in this rec space.
This stood out to me. So often, active living is framed as pushing through discomfort or showing up no matter what. Tia and Tiffanie offered a different picture where movement is adaptable, and where stepping back is just as important as taking initiative. They were honest about how hard that balance can be. There’s guilt in missing a class. Guilt in choosing rest, or family, or time away from the dojo. Tiffanie described a concept she uses to navigate that tension: “If I say yes to this, what am I saying no to?” She cited essentialism: “doing exactly what you need to do, and nothing more.”
By the time our conversation ended, karate felt less like the subject of discussion and more like the medium through which a life philosophy was conveyed. Lessons of leadership and setting boundaries all flowed through their stories. For Tia and Tiffanie, active living isn’t about intensity. It’s about intention - staying deeply connected and honest about your expectations of your mind and body, especially as these needs change over time. Such is a way of living that requires mindfulness in knowing when to take on opportunity, and perhaps most importantly, when to rest.



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