By Steve DeMasco
How I Became the Cultural Ambassador of Shaolin Temple
By Steve DeMasco
Steve DeMasco is the International Cultural Ambassador and disciple to the Shaolin Temple in China, and a 10th degree black belt in Shaolin Kempo.
Why it is me who has been chosen by the Abbot Shi Yongxin to be the International Cultural Ambassador of the Shaolin Temple? It’s a question I have asked myself more than once.
You could say I didn’t have the best start in life. I was born in 1953 to Concetta and Al DeMasco in Spanish Harlem. My mother, who for some reason was always called Carol, had two wooden legs and four fingers on one hand. My father, Al, was a psychotic, abusive man who beat and abused me repeatedly as a child, until my mother remarried in 1962 and moved us away to Brockton, Massachusetts.
About thirty-five years ago, when I first learned about Shaolin philosophy and the kung fu martial arts that go with it, I had no idea how it would profoundly change my life, but it did. It changed my perspective on power, and my way of thinking.
For decades, I felt my body and soul empowered by Shaolin spirits. After years of learning kung fu from three grand master teachers of Shaolin kung fu, I started my own kung fu schools in the U.S.
A medical doctor named Robert Sporn, who studied kung fu under one of my students, had spent time in China and spoken to the Chinese about his study of Shaolin in the United States. They were fascinated that someone in the West would be teaching their art to non-Chinese, as far fewer Westerners studied it in the 1990s than now.
Officials connected with the Shaolin temple began to investigate how I had come not only to study with Shaolin grand masters in America, but also to earn under their tutelage, by that time, an eighth-degree black belt.
The Chinese are very methodical in their business practices, just as they are in their mastery of Shaolin. After the initial query from the agency in Shanghai that had inquired about my practice, eight months of correspondence ensued. Finally, I was invited to visit the Shaolin temple, thirteen kilometers from Deng Feng, known as the birthplace of Shaolin monks, presumably so that the abbot, Shi Yongxin, could see me for himself. So in 1996 I set out for China to explore what I didn’t already know about Shaolin.
After a twenty-four-hour flight, I found myself being escorted through Shanghai and Beijing, and finally to the Shaolin temple, by a Chinese guide named Jing Jing. There, Shi Yongxin, the best-known monk at the world’s most famous martial arts temple and an extremely powerful religious leader in China, was to meet with me.
The temple—which sits at the base of Song Shan Mountain, itself part of the holiest mountain range in China—was an awesome sight. Seeing it in photographs had not prepared me for the real thing. Ancient and majestic, it had a grace surrounding its red brick walls and old stone steps that I could almost feel under my skin.
I sat beside the abbot in his private chambers, a great honor. With his hands folded in front of him on the table, he sat calmly in a simple wooden chair.
During our meeting, Jing Jing translated, since the abbot does not speak English, and it was clear that both Jing Jing and I were nervous. He stuttered a little, from what I could make out in Mandarin, and I found myself stammering too.
My experiences working with different grand masters have taught me that one definitely does not get a second chance to make a first impression with the Chinese. In particular, Shaolin monks are intuitive, and can see right through someone whose speech or actions are not honest. They are thoughtful, calm, and in the case of the abbot, extremely wise and somewhat ethereal. Shi Yongxin appeared ageless, and in fact, no one seemed to know how old he was, as though this was just one of the many secrets the temple held.
The abbot is like the Pope of China, the number one in charge of all Shaolin martial arts, and he is a symbol of China itself in a way. He asked me a lot of questions about life in the United States and how I taught and mentored children, and when he was finished, he stood up, and I understood the meeting is over. My confidence and my ability to focus on this amazing situation suddenly began to waver. I thought,“That’s it? I must have done something wrong.”
Before the meeting, I knew that every word I spoke was going to be evaluated by the abbot, so his silence and dismissal really threw me for a loop. I expected much more, instead of seeing the situation for what it was—having accomplished an amazing meeting—I was already getting down about it. That was the moment to remind myself what I was trying to accomplish. Just being in his presence was unbelievable, and no matter what, I had conveyed how much respect I had for Shaolin, and how important it was to be able to share it with others, because doing so had changed my life. That was why I was there, and I’d done that.
As it turned out, Shi Yongxin thought enough of me to invite me back to the sacred training grounds of the Shaolin monks, which few people outside the temple have ever seen. He had two of his disciples perform elaborate five-animal forms for me with an execution that was so flawless I was slack jawed. I bowed, thanked him for his time and attention, and prepared to leave.
As I did, the abbot gestured for me to perform for the four of them. It was like a bad dream where you are in class with no clothes on and you think you don’t know the answers to the test: I had demonstrated Shaolin forms in front of ten thousand people before, but now, I felt I knew nothing—in my mind, it was just as bad as being naked in public.
My ass was on the line, as wasmy credibility. I felt empty, and for a moment, the old demons of failure and pain came rushing back. Defying my brain to screw this once-in-a-lifetime chance up, I reached for my focus, and remembered what was at stake and what I was trying to accomplish (to show the abbot just what an American Shaolin martial artist could do, so that I might get his blessing, which would allow me to share my abilities and what I’d learned with even more people).
The “iron wire” is from the oldest traditions and seldom taught to non-Chinese artists. I had learned it from one of my masters, and it had taken several years to perfect. When I emerged from the haze of my concentration, the abbot was looking at me with an expression neither happy nor sad, neither admiring nor embarrassed; but he was really looking at me.
The next day, as I prepared to return to the United States, the minister of travel in Deng Feng came to see me, and handed me a small red booklet. It was from the abbot. Inside, my photo was displayed alongside many Chinese characters that I could not read; the director translated, and his eyes widened as he read. The Shaolin temple, and the abbot himself, now recognized me as a master of the Shaolin arts. “I cannot recall another time in the temple’s fifteen-hundredyear history,” the translator said, “that a non-Asian man was named master.”
We stared at the booklet, then at each other, then at the booklet again. He smiled genuinely. This was like winning the gold, I thought.
That journey began my substantial connection with the Abbot and the great Shaolin Temple. When the Abbot, Yongxin made me his personal disciple in June 2000, he gave me the name Yandi (延諦). It means extension of the truth. A few years later, he announced me as the US Cultural Ambassador and several years later to my surprise, he publicly announced me as International Cultural Ambassador.
Why it is me who has been chosen by the Abbot Shi Yongxin to be the International Cultural Ambassador of the Shaolin Temple? It’s a question I have asked myself more than once.
The Abbot just makes decisions and doesn’t ever explain himself. But what I do believe is that very little is by chance.
For most of my life, I have trained with two well-known and respected Chinese masters and that I have a deep respect for the Shaolin philosophy and have a good understanding of it.
For years, I have brought thousands of students from all over the world to visit and train in Shaolin. I have never asked for anything in return for spreading Shaolin culture throughout the world.
I have written many articles about Shaolin and its rich heritage, but I have never taken credit for any of the Shaolin arts. Although in the 18 years I have traveled to China to study and train in Shaolin, I know will never in this lifetime master it all. Shaolin is an art and a philosophy that the world needs to embrace and that is to “improve the quality of life for all people.”
I feel the Abbot knows all these.
It was probably based on them, the Abbot trusted me and gave the mission to write a full academic course on Shaolin in conjunction with the United States Sports University in Alabama, USA. It took me over one year of writing to do this. The course is now offered on line in many countries. This might have added to his decision to make me the international Ambassador.
I’m still visiting Shaolin every year to have a one-week intensive training of martial arts. Up to the date, I have brought all of my three boys to Shaolin. This July, I am bringing my youngest son Gianni again for the third time.
(Photos courtesy of Grandmaster Steve DeMasco)
I unexpectedly
an official invitation to visit China after I had studied martial arts for thirty years.