The journey begins with Bodhidharma, a legendary Indian prince turned Buddhist monk, also known as Daruma in Japanese and Ta Mo in Chinese. Around the 5th or 6th century, Bodhidharma traveled from Southern India to China to spread the teachings of Mahayana Buddhism. His journey led him to the Shaolin Temple in the Songshan mountains, where he found the monks physically frail and unable to maintain the long hours of seated meditation required by their practice.

In response, Bodhidharma is said to have introduced a series of physical exercises known as the “Eighteen Hands of the Lohan,” or the “Muscle/Tendon Changing Classic” (Yi Jin Jing) and the “Marrow/Brain Washing Classic” (Xi Sui Jing). These forms were not just calisthenics—they were holistic, integrating breath, posture, movement, and mental focus. Over time, these practices evolved into the structured fighting systems we now recognize as Shaolin Kung Fu.

Shaolin martial arts developed through centuries of refinement, blending combat techniques with Taoist and Buddhist principles such as balance, flow, inner stillness, and discipline. These teachings emphasized harmony with nature, control of one’s emotions, and mastery of body and mind—values that would resonate through Kenpo centuries later.

The term Kenpo (also spelled Kempo) is derived from the Japanese reading of the Chinese "Ch'uan Fa" (拳法), pronounced “Chwan” (rhymes with swan) and “Fa” (rhymes with spa), literally meaning “Fist Law” or “Way of the Fist.” It refers not to a single style, but rather a broad family of martial traditions originating in China and adapted through cultural exchange with Japan and Okinawa.

As these systems migrated and evolved, they retained the core idea of martial arts as a method of both self-defense and self-mastery. Kenpo’s earliest expressions were fluid, circular, and reactive—built on the principle of redirection, yielding to force rather than opposing it head-on. Much like water, these techniques flowed around aggression, neutralizing threats with precision, speed, and adaptability.

These early systems also included joint locks, pressure point strikes, and vital area targeting, hinting at the comprehensive nature of Kenpo that would persist through generations.

Importantly, martial arts in ancient China and India were never viewed as purely combative. They were deeply tied to ethical conduct, spiritual cultivation, and a code of personal honor. Practitioners were expected to live with integrity, humility, and wisdom—qualities Kenpo continues to hold sacred.

Thus, the foundation of Kenpo is not only a physical discipline, but a philosophical journey—born from temples and silence, molded by warriors and wanderers, and shaped by centuries of adaptation. Its story begins with Bodhidharma’s footsteps through the mountains of China—but it would travel far beyond, crossing oceans and borders, evolving with each generation of seekers and practitioners.

As Chinese martial arts radiated outward beyond their borders, they began to influence neighboring cultures—most notably in Okinawa and Japan. These regions became crucibles of hybrid styles, blending the fluidity and circular motion of Chinese Ch'uan Fa with the discipline and linear power of Japanese and Okinawan Karate and Jujitsu.

This fusion eventually gave rise to various “Kempo” or “Kenpo” systems, the name itself adapted from the original Chinese Ch’uan Fa. But it wasn’t until the early 20th century that Kenpo found its unique voice and modern momentum—on the volcanic shores of Hawaii.

At the heart of this chapter stands James Masayoshi Mitose, a Japanese-American born in Hawaii in 1916. As a young man, Mitose was sent to Japan, where he studied a family art known as Kosho-Ryu Kempo, a system said to combine striking, joint locks, pressure point manipulation, and spiritual teachings.

Mitose returned to Hawaii in the late 1930s, bringing with him both the techniques and philosophy of this art. He began teaching in 1942, during the tense years of World War II.

Mitose’s Kosho-Ryu emphasized kata (forms), discipline, and internal principles, and while it had combat effectiveness, it also bore the weight of traditional Japanese martial structure. His teaching marked one of the first formal introductions of Kenpo to the American public.

Among Mitose’s most notable students was William K.S. Chow—a man who would become a transformational force in Kenpo's development.

William Chow was the son of Hoon Chow, a Chinese immigrant and Buddhist priest who had fled Shanghai prior to the Boxer Rebellion. Hoon Chow was steeped in Southern Shaolin Ch’uan Fa, particularly from the regions of Kwangtung and Fukien, known for their powerful close-range strikes and grounded stances.

William Chow inherited this knowledge, and alongside his training with Mitose, began forging a new, hybridized martial system.

Chow’s world was not one of temples and theory—it was one of streets and survival. At just over 5 feet tall, living in a culture where physical dominance often equaled respect, Chow had to be fast, fierce, and pragmatic.

He began to strip away excessive flourish from traditional techniques, tightening circular movements, increasing speed, and sharpening directness. He absorbed what was useful from boxing, jujitsu, and wrestling, disciplines thriving in Hawaii's diverse, rough-and-tumble neighborhoods.

What Chow created was a unique synthesis—part traditional, part street-savvy, all practical. He called it Kenpo Karate. His version kept the spirit of Chinese Ch’uan Fa but adapted it to real-world American combat scenarios. It retained the spirit of flow, but leaned into impact, timing, and vital targeting.

His system was one of efficiency, adaptability, and effectiveness—values that would become hallmarks of modern American Kenpo.

Importantly, Chow broke with Mitose’s strict adherence to traditional structure. While Mitose insisted on maintaining his family art in its original form, Chow encouraged adaptation and evolution.

He opened his teachings to a broader range of students—often teaching on the beach or in parks—and valued practical application above ceremony.

It was William Chow’s openness and innovation that created fertile ground for the next generation of martial artists to build upon. His approach directly inspired a young Hawaiian named Edmund Kealoha Parker, who would eventually take Kenpo to the mainland U.S. and reforge it into a fully modern, American martial art.

But the legacy of this period—this cross-pollination of cultures and combat styles—cannot be overstated. In Hawaii’s melting pot of Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, and Polynesian influences, Kenpo was reborn. It emerged no longer as a fixed tradition but as a living system, designed not to preserve the past but to prepare its practitioners for the realities of the present—and the future.

Born in 1931 in Honolulu, Parker began training under Chow during his teenage years. He was already streetwise, growing up in rough neighborhoods where practical self-defense wasn’t a theory—it was a necessity. Under Chow's tutelage, Parker quickly developed a reputation as a formidable martial artist. But even in his early training, he sensed that the traditional methods—while powerful—needed refinement to stay relevant in the rapidly evolving American cultural landscape.

Parker was more than just a fighter. He was a thinker, innovator, and a natural teacher. After moving to the mainland to attend Brigham Young University in Utah, he began to formalize and teach his own interpretations of the art. It was during this period that he laid the foundation for what would become American Kenpo.

Recognizing that the rigid, linear methods of traditional Karate and the elaborate forms of Kung Fu did not always translate well to real-world encounters, Parker took bold steps. He began to dissect the techniques he had learned—looking not only at what worked, but why it worked. This analytical mindset led him to embrace scientific and logical principles, crafting a system that was dynamic, adaptable, and constantly evolving.

Parker's approach was grounded in concepts such as:

• Economy of Motion: minimizing wasted movement to strike with maximum efficiency
• Point of Origin: launching strikes from wherever the hands and feet naturally were, rather than requiring them to be "loaded"
• Marriage of Gravity: using body weight and timing to increase striking power
• Zone Theory: recognizing angles of attack and zones of vulnerability
• Continuity of Motion: linking strikes fluidly so one motion naturally flowed into the next

Unlike many traditional arts, which focused heavily on preset forms or rigid katas, Parker’s American Kenpo was designed to be self-correcting. Students were encouraged to think critically—learning not just how to perform a movement, but why that movement functioned as it did. This philosophy empowered students to adapt in real-time, a crucial skill when facing unpredictable street encounters.

He also introduced the concept of “what-if” scenarios, training students to adapt core techniques to a wide array of variables—different attackers, weapons, positions, or timing. This made the system incredibly versatile and built a deep sense of combat awareness into every student.

Parker didn’t just teach Kenpo—he shared it with the world. He opened one of the first commercial karate studios in the United States in Pasadena, California in 1956, during a time when most martial arts were still taught in garages, back rooms, or private circles. His accessible, intelligent, and practical approach drew a wide audience—from law enforcement and military personnel to Hollywood celebrities.

Through his seminars, books (such as the seminal Infinite Insights into Kenpo series), and international tournaments, Parker spread American Kenpo globally. But he remained steadfast in his belief that Kenpo must remain a living art—not bound by tradition for tradition’s sake, but free to evolve with the needs of the world it served.

Perhaps Parker’s greatest legacy wasn’t just the art he created, but the method of thinking he instilled in his students. He gave them permission—not just to practice, but to question. Not just to defend, but to understand. In doing so, he gave birth to an American martial arts system rooted in tradition, but forged through logic, adaptation, and purpose.

Today, the name Ed Parker is synonymous with modern martial innovation. His vision laid the groundwork for generations of martial artists to build upon, always with the understanding that Kenpo was never meant to be static. It was, and always will be, a system of motion and evolution.

What distinguishes Kenpo from many other martial arts is its fusion of East and West, hard and soft, theory and application. It borrows the linear, forceful strikes of Japanese Karate and combines them with the circular, flowing, redirectional techniques of Chinese Kung Fu. These elements are not blended haphazardly, but organized through a structured logic, where each movement flows into the next with purpose.

Rather than memorizing a strict catalog of movements, Kenpo practitioners are taught to understand motion itself—to move with intention and awareness, like a chess player responding to an opponent's choices several moves ahead. This is why Kenpo is often called a “system of motion.” It isn’t just about striking or blocking—it’s about adapting, analyzing, and moving in real time.

The system prepares the practitioner for a wide spectrum of possible attacks:

• Grabs, chokes, and joint locks
• Punches, kicks, and weapon threats
• Single or multiple attackers
• Offense from any direction—front, side, rear, high, or low

In Parker’s vision, Kenpo was meant to reflect the unpredictable, messy reality of street-level violence. That meant building techniques that could evolve in real-time, adjusting to the attacker’s position, resistance, or failure of a given move.

Every motion in Kenpo is part of a flow, where the next strike, block, or check is already beginning before the last one ends. There is no wasted motion, no hesitation, and no reliance on perfection.

This is where principles like “economy of motion,” “point of origin,” and “marriage of gravity” come into play. Kenpo practitioners learn to hit from wherever their hands are, to drop their weight into each strike for maximum force, and to keep moving until the threat is neutralized or evaded.

Every technique is taught with an understanding of physics and anatomy—leverage, timing, torque, and angle all matter.

But the philosophical heart of Kenpo is just as critical as the physical. Ed Parker famously said, “Whatever the attitude, so the response.” In Kenpo, the goal is not domination—it is resolution. A Kenpoist learns to escalate only as much as the situation demands.

The art teaches restraint, discretion, and control, even as it builds the capacity for overwhelming force if necessary.

This principle-based approach also makes Kenpo a self-correcting system. Students aren’t just told what to do—they’re taught how to think. If a movement fails, they can analyze why—was it out of alignment? Poor timing? A violation of principle?

This fosters critical thinking and situational awareness, turning every drill and sparring session into a learning opportunity.

Kenpo also cultivates a deep internal awareness—the mental readiness for confrontation, which includes de-escalation, verbal defense, and the ability to read an opponent's intention. A true Kenpoist carries themselves with a quiet confidence, grounded in the knowledge that they are prepared—not just to fight, but to survive, endure, and walk away with honor.

As a philosophy, Kenpo teaches that a martial artist must be a student first, a warrior second, and a protector always. It encourages continuous learning, honest self-evaluation, and the humility to accept that the journey is never complete.

In Kenpo, the belt may change, but the goal remains the same: to master oneself, so that one may better serve and protect others.

Sifu Hull trained under Professor John Conway, Sr., a man he admired deeply, whose mentorship extended beyond technique into the realm of personal character. After Professor Conway’s passing in 1994, Sifu Hull was asked by the family to carry on the instruction at the studio, continuing the lineage and upholding the standard. His training then continued under Sifu Johnny Conway, who not only tested him for his black belt, but introduced him to a progressive integration of ground fighting and Judo techniques—years before mixed martial arts entered the public consciousness.

In 1996, Sifu Hull opened his first studio: Advanced American Martial Arts. For the next several years, he worked to create something that was more than just a place to train—it was a place to learn, grow, and develop real-world confidence. Rather than dilute Kenpo by blending systems, he and his team preserved the integrity of Kenpo while offering complementary training in ground fighting through a distinct and parallel track.

Over time, Sifu Hull’s teaching philosophy deepened. He noticed that across many schools—including his own in the early days—there were three critical areas being overlooked: basics weren’t drilled enough, students advanced too quickly, and mindset training was largely absent. These gaps didn’t just weaken technique—they undermined confidence, clarity, and survivability. So he made changes. Serious ones.

He refocused his curriculum around fundamentals, critical thinking, and mental preparedness, reinforcing the idea that a black belt isn’t just a destination—it’s a responsibility. He taught students to take their time, to repeat the basics until they were second nature, and to embrace the grind as part of the transformation.

In 2001, he founded American Martial Training Systems to reflect this broader, evolving philosophy. He began incorporating his firearms training into the overall approach—not as a gimmick, but out of a sincere belief that martial artists in the modern world must be prepared for all threats, not just the ones they hope to face.

At the heart of his approach is a simple threefold belief system:

• Be well-rounded: Train in all aspects of life and combat. Stay curious. Never stop learning.
• Be honorable: Tell the truth. Own your actions. Respect yourself and others.
• Be prepared: Expect the unexpected. Build the skills before you need them.

Today, Sifu Hull continues to train, reflect, and refine—not because he believes he’s mastered the art, but because he knows the journey is never truly over. While no longer running a commercial school, he still shares his knowledge with those closest to him, passing on the lessons of a lifetime through quiet consistency and personal example.

Sifu Hull currently holds the rank of 6th Degree Black Belt in Kenpo. Over the years, he has had the privilege of training with many renowned martial artists—as well as many exceptional practitioners whose names may not be widely known, but whose skill and spirit left a lasting impression.

His training is no longer about proving anything to anyone—it never really was. It has always been about testing and sharpening himself, striving for personal growth, and staying true to the warrior’s path.

For Sifu Hull, Kenpo isn’t something you teach once and walk away from. It’s something you live. It shapes how you think, how you move, and how you show up in the world. Because in his eyes, a true warrior isn’t defined by the belts they wear or the fights they’ve won—but by how they carry themselves, protect what matters, and continue to grow— in the dojo, as a human, and in every quiet corner of life.