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Karate club both proving ground, anchor for Bosnian youths
Down a dimly lit stairway with porcelain steps and iron railings, through the street-level entrance of an old building on Bleecker Street, comes the sound of a low rumble. Like thunder in the distance, the muffled booms grow louder and more intense as a visitor climbs the stairs, swelling in a dark hallway on the second floor of 662 Bleecker St. Finally, on the third floor, the source of noise is revealed. At least three evenings a week, Sulejman Latic’s 25 karate students start their 6:30 p.m. class by running laps on a wood floor in a rough-hewn room that is the hub of the Utica Dragon Karate Club. The mostly Bosnian youths are advanced students, black and brown belts. Yet when the 6-foot-2 inch, 210-pound Latic walks into the gym, he has their attention without saying a word. The former member of the Yugoslav national karate team is the sensei, the teacher, and he is revered by his 150 students as much for the way he treats them as for his position. The discipline of karate provides an ordered world for the young refugees whose lives were turned upside down in the past decade by the Bosnian war, and it represents a clear sense of purpose for Latic. “To make the best students, good workers, good kids and good sportists,” he said of his goals. The students recognize the obvious benefits — driving trips to tournaments around the state and as far away as New Orleans. Latic even helped send some students to competition in Japan. But the students also see what their parents and Latic see — that the club can help keep them away from dangers very different from what they experienced in Bosnia. Though they are no longer burdened by the civil war that scarred their homeland, the Bosnian youths can fall into trouble on the streets or at school without self-discipline or the knowledge they have better things to do. “You’re able to concentrate, able to deal with problems,” said Marizela Dizdarevic, 18, of the karate she’s learned through Latic. “You’re not going to be stupid outside,” said Dizdarevic, who will be a Mohawk Valley Community College student in January. “You come here and punch and get it all out, like a psychologist.”
The session begins The Dragon students line up along a wall on the west side of their dojo, or training hall. They bow to Latic, as is the etiquette in karate at the beginning and end of each training session. The youths range from about 12 to 19 years in age. Many are dressed in a gi, the traditional two-piece karate uniform that consists of a wrap-around jacket and baggy, loose-fitting pants that hang just above the ankle. A sweet smell of sweat pokes at the air. The 25 students go through kata, or forms. In competition, kata is performed alone, like a gymnastics routine. While going through the movements, the Dragon students don’t move beyond an area of a few feet. Latic walks among them, watching. He stops every so often and puts a hand on a student’s back, arm or leg to guide them into the proper position. “He takes time,” 16-year-old brown belt Edis Zalic says. “He explains everything and you understand.” Kata movements are precise, almost robotic. They aren’t especially fast, yet the Dragon students are hot and winded when they finish. They return with headgear, mouth guards and padded hand gloves. The students pair up and practice kumite (pronounced kum-it-te), sparring or fighting. Kumite is a series of kicks, punches and blocks — controlled contact moves that just miss the faces and torsos of their partners. Bouncing and bobbing in small areas around the gym, the partners dance like boxers in a ring, looking for an opening to land a punch or kick that would score a point in matches that are three minutes long during a competition. “If you’re fighting against somebody you’ve never fought, the first 30 seconds the fighters will concentrate,” said 15-year-old Denis Avdic, a black belt and a sophomore at Thomas R. Proctor High School. “When you score the first points, you can feel it,” he said. “You can feel it through your arms, your legs, the nerves. Then you’re really relaxed.” Like many of their peers of any background, the Dragon students are drawn to karate by a basic concept: fun. And it’s safe. Here, they are free, for a few minutes at least, from any difficult memories. And they are free from whatever adjustments they face in their new lives in America. “It’s peaceful, it feels safe,” Avdic said.
Sensei, students share similar past Like the students, Latic is a Bosnian. He’s a 40-year-old former Yugoslavian national karate champion from Velika Kladusa, a city of about 17,000 in the northwest corner of Bosnia. And also like his students, Latic came to Utica and the United States in the late 1990s to escape the collapse of a country and a way of life — an experience he knows most Americans can’t comprehend. Latic chooses to put that part of his life behind him. He politely declines to discuss the complex web of political and religious factions of Serbians, Croatians and Muslims that pulled at his home city and the rest of his country. Velika Kladusa was unusual during the war in that some Muslim residents wound up rebelling against Bosnia’s Muslim-led government. A number of Utica’s Bosnians hail from that region of Bosnia. “I wasn’t aligned with any kind of group,” Latic said in Bosnia to 19-year-old student Haris Rizvanovic, who acted as translator. “I came here because I didn’t want to join an army,” he said. “I didn’t want to get into any politics. If I wanted to get into politics, I would have stayed over there.” Latic, who continued to run his seven karate clubs in and around Velika Kladusa after the war started, later spent time in two refugee camps, where he also taught karate to help people pass the time. He knew there would be interest in karate among Bosnians when he came to Utica in 1998 with his wife, Razija and daughters Ena and Tea. The family could have gone to Bosnian communities in Idaho, Washington or St. Louis, but Latic wanted to meet with his daughters, Mirela and Jana, who had been here for a year with their mother. In his first few years in Utica, Latic was uniting another Bosnian family. This one was born at the Dragon Club, the business Latic opened on Genesee Street nine months after arriving. About 20 students were in that first class. The club grew slowly, through word-of-mouth and on Latic’s reputation as a patient teacher and father figure. “I was seeing my friends going, and I wanted to sign up, too,” 14-year-old brown belt Adis Bajric said. Today, the club has about 150 members. The club grew so large, Latic purchased the Bleecker Street building two years ago. He also operates a restaurant and bar there in a complex called House of Dragon. Bajric’s mother, Emina, 40, found a job at the Sitrin Rehabilitation Center as a nurse’s aide after the family came to Utica three years ago. That helped her afford the Dragon Club’s dues of $25 a month. “It’s not hard to want to make it nice for your children,” she said. “I’m happy with them.” Zuhdija Dizdarevic, the father and uncle of four Dragon students, understands the need for a structured place.
“Sports is good for young people, karate is good,” said Dizdarevic, 48, whose daughters, Marizela and Minela have combined to win 44 medals since they joined the club. “They not go on street, in cars or drink or bad thing,” Dizdarerevic said. “Parent think good for daughters.” Instructor lives in the present Latic had a distinguished career as a karate-ka, a student of karate. He competed for four years as a member of the Yugoslavian National Team that was based in Novi Sad. He won so many medals, so many diplomas that he can’t even guess how many there are. “They were all over the house,” his 22-year-old daughter Jana said. Yugoslavia was one of the top countries at karate in the world at the time. Accomplished athletes have been known to regale a willing listener with tales of past glory. The stories are often sad to hear, as if through the telling it will bring the athlete back to his prime. Latic does not dwell on the past, either the sadness or the success. He was not able to pick out a special moment that he still remembers from his days as a competitor. What meant the most to him was a trip to Japan in 2001 with three students to represent the United States and AAU Karate. For the last few years, AAU has organized overseas trips for black belt students who place in the top 3 at Nationals and at the Junior Olympics. The athletes are considered to be the AAU youth national team. Latic passed a test when he was 25 to become a sensei or teacher of karate. At the time, he was the youngest trainer in Yugoslavia. When he was a boy, Latic tried soccer and basketball, the two most popular sports in Bosnia. Karate is a close third. Latic didn’t have a lot of money and he could do it alone. Through the club, Latic has reached his dream: to teach. “You want them to know what you know,” he said.
The feeling of family These days, the stairway to the third floor is brighter with new light blue paint on the walls. The lingering aroma pulls a visitor into the dojo, which likewise, blooms with color. The sounds, however, are the same: Latic’s students occasionally shouting as they work on the art, and of feet pounding on the floor that is now painted bright yellow. What also remains is the foundation of the training the young people receive. “We all get along well, like a big family,” said 14-year-old Enisa Bajrektarevic, a ninth-grader at John F. Kennedy Middle School. “We have problems and we talk them out.” |
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