In jiu-jitsu, a boy finds his path

With 6-year-old Candon Bushong on the mat near the end of his lesson, his jiu-jitsu instructor, Clay Mayfield, asks him to demonstrate a complicated move.
“That’s a lot of steps, Clay,” whispers Candon's mother, Amy, sitting on the edge of her chair, her body taut and her hands clenched.
Candon, however, is not fazed. He goes through the move flawlessly, then assumes the self-control position to end the lesson.
Amy breathes a sigh of relief.
“A month ago he could not have done that,” she says.
Studying the martial art of jiu-jitsu has apparently worked wonders for Candon, whose parents not long ago observed him to be slow to speak and inordinately “clutsy.” Amy and her husband, Chad Bushong, both of Christopher, knew something wasn’t quite right.
“As a parent, I knew something was wrong,” Amy says.
Those concerns turned to fear when Candon went to Pre-K at the age of 4.
“It was hard,” Amy says. “He had a lot of communication and social issues. There were several times I just wanted to pull him out.”
The problems and issues continued to mount when Candon entered kindergarten.
“He had a lot of problems with behavior,” says Amy, who is a teacher at Candon’s Christopher school. “He had trouble forming friendships. He was very awkward. It was almost like he didn’t know how to play.”
Amy says her son also had a hard time communicating with other people.
“When he would talk, it was kind of abnormal, like he didn’t know what to say,” she says.
Ultimately, his language problems led the Bushongs to a definitive diagnosis of what was wrong with Candon. While working with a speech therapist, Candon was trying to make the “L” sound by sticking out his tongue and raising it up.
“He kept tilting his head back,” she says. The therapist told Amy about it. “I could tell by her demeanor something was wrong.”
Amy’s education skills kicked in. She went home and began to research. The word “dyspraxia” popped up. Candon’s pediatrician referred the family to Cardinal Glennon Children’s Hospital in St. Louis. Candon went through a battery of tests before the Bushongs were given the diagnosis.
“When we found out, it all made sense,” she said.
Dyspraxia is a neurological disorder in the brain that results in impaired motor, memory, judgment, processing and other cognitive skills. It also impacts the immune and central nervous systems. According to the Dyspraxia Foundation website, each dyspraxic person “has different abilities and weaknesses as dyspraxia often comes with a variety of comorbidities.”
The most common of these is Developmental Co-ordination Disorder, which impacts fine and gross motor development.
Simply put, the brain can’t transfer to the muscle how to perform its function.
“We researched,” Amy says. Among other measures, the Bushongs altered Candon’s diet, removing red and yellow food dyes. “We exhausted all out routes.”
When Candon failed to thrive during kindergarten, the Bushongs even considered home schooling. Ultimately they made the decision to have him repeat kindergarten.
“His dad and I felt he needed a second year if, for nothing else, the social skills,” she says. “We wanted him to have a successful year under his belt.”
As Candon entered his second year, the problems continued, but so did the Bushongs' quest for help. All of their research pointed to martial arts. Roughly three months ago, Candon became a student at Inward Quest (iQ) Jiu-Jitsu in Benton, taking private training from instructor Clay Mayfield.
The change has been nothing short of astounding.
“The first time he was so nervous,” Amy says. “Now he can’t wait for Clay to say he’s ready to get on the mat.”
The iQ academy was founded in July 2010 by Jared Jessup, a professor and Royce Gracie black belt. Jessup was training several law enforcement officers from the Benton area in Paducah.
“They asked if I could come to Benton,” he says. “I told them, sure, if the area can support it.”
Jessup began coming up to teach lessons. He soon located a building and began renovations.
“I slept on the mats for about seven months,” he says with a grin. “Now I have a building, a home, a wife, a daughter and a son due Jan. 29.”
Jessup’s wife, Misty, also works at iQ.
Jessup has been “doing this for 20 years.” In that time, he has worked with numerous individuals with special needs.
“I’ve worked with autistic kids and adults," he says. "I’ve had students with prosthetic limbs and mental retardation.”
What he found is that the principles of jiu-jitsu as embraced by Grand Master Helio Gracie can have a dramatic impact on the student.
Dr. Sara Malone, associate professor of family and community medicine at SIU Family Medicine in West Frankfort, agrees.
“Martial arts has been shown to be beneficial for children with special needs such as autism spectrum disorder,” she says. “Consistency and repetition create a familiarity that allow all children to do well with the classes.
“Often with martial arts, the competition is within oneself, leading to the building of life skills that affect and improve all aspects of life.”
Amy is astounded at the change in Candon in just three months.
“He can hop on one foot,” she says. “Some parents might think that’s not a big deal, but he couldn’t do that before.”
That is not the only change Amy has seen.
 “There’s a position called ‘self control,’” she says. “The first time, he was all over the place he could not sit still.”
Candon is also afflicted with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, a sister disease to dyspraxia.
“Now he can sit calmly and a have a conversation with Clay,” she says, barely able to contain her joy.
Mayfield’s own journey into the world of jiu-jitsu bears a remarkable resemblance to Candon’s.
“I was hyperactive and had some attention disorders,” he says. “I was blessed because my mom home schooled me and taught me in the way that I learned.”
Mayfield began his journey on the mat at age 15.
“Jiu-jitsu gave me a healthy way to channel my energy,” he says.
Aside from the hours of personal learning, Mayfield has undergone more than 2,000 training hours to become an instructor -- something that is required of all instructors, according to Jessup.
The skills learned by Mayfield are evident in his interaction with Candon.
“As I kept training,” Mayfield says, “I saw the benefits it brought to my life and I wanted to share it with other people.”
Over the years, Mayfield has had students with ADHD, cerebral palsy and autism. “These students thrive in jiu-jitsu where they can’t in team sports,” he says.
Mayfield has seen the changes in Candon. “At the first lesson he was so shy and retracted he wouldn’t come on the mat or look me in the eye,” he says. “He was so shy he actually cried.”
Now, Candon can’t wait for Mayfield's invitation to join him on the mat.
“He has a great attitude,” he says. “He’s smart. It’s great to see his excitement.”
Amy says the changes in Candon’s behavior have manifested within the classroom.
“There have been no behavior issues in a long time,” she says. Where Candon once gravitated to playing only with the girls, he is now venturing onto the jungle gym with the boys, something he used to avoid at all costs.
Chad says he has been amazed at the “unbelievable discipline” his son now displays.
“I love his excitement for jiu-jitsu,” he says, watching Candon for the first time at a lesson. His work schedule has not allowed him to attend the lessons.
Candon’s 13-year-old brother, Carson, has also seen the changes.
“He’s more calm,” he says. “He acts a lot better.”
Following complex directions is something that is quite difficult for those with dyspraxia. Mayfield teaches the moves step-by-step, hands-on, and reviews each week.
Although the private instruction is not cheap, Amy says “the excitement on my child’s face at a lesson is definitely worth it.”
As for Candon, he says, “I like doing things with Clay. He’s handsome.”