In a time when most Americans had never seen a roundhouse kick, one man believed he could master it.

Born in 1947 in Korea, Dong Shin began learning taekwondo when he was 10 years old. According to Shin, taekwondo at the time was a violent sport, often associated with gangsters rather than being suitable for young children. 

“My parents didn’t want me to join, but every day I went to the dojo and sat outside and watched. Eventually, I befriended a high school student who taught me a lot of my basic knowledge from his backyard. We sparred every day for hours, which helped me get into the dojo. I think I was 15 when I decided it was something I had to pursue,” Shin said.

The dojo was a small space with dirt floors that sent up small clouds of dust with every movement and rows of wooden boards for breaking that lined the walls. The air was thick with the earthy smell of sweat and soil, and the shouts of students echoed off thin wooden walls.

After almost 7 years of progressing in his training, Shin was recruited to join the Republic of Korea’s elite Tiger Division during the Vietnam War, where he was tasked with teaching the soldiers how to defend themselves.

“When I joined the military instructor group, everybody came from different schools. When we began, they put everybody together and even though we do things differently, the military ordered us to combine all our training so it would all be identical. We had to listen or we would be killed,” Shin said.

His role in the Tiger Division would challenge not just his skills, but also his mindset.

“When we began, everybody was so proud of their schools and their training; everyone in there thought, ‘I’m the best.’ And it was a young group, we were all in our 20s and not very humble,” Shin said. “Because I learned a lot of kicks from Hokkaido and Korean traditional martial arts, I was the best kicker. That time, taekwondo and karate were pretty much the same, and people only knew the most basic kicks, except for me, I had more experience,” Shin said.

Looking back, Shin reflects on his younger years with a tinge of regret.

“I trained a lot, but I didn’t compete as much as I should have when I was in my prime,” Shin said. “I didn’t realize then how important it was to gain recognition through competitions. If I had competed more, I think it would have opened more opportunities for me later.”

In 1978, Shin opened the Hwa Rang Kwan Dojo in San Francisco, one of the first Korean schools on the West Coast. Many Americans were unfamiliar with martial arts, and some were skeptical of the idea of a foreign sport. However, Shin’s determination drove him forward. According to the article “History of Taekwondo in the USA,” there were fewer than 300 martial arts schools in the U.S. when Shin first opened. Today, there are over 15,000. 

The mats were brand new, their bright colors adding life to the plain, bare walls. A lone punching bag swayed gently in the corner, catching the morning sunlight that poured through wide windows. By afternoon, the dojo was alive with stomping feet and sharp yells, the faint smell of rubber mats and sweat filling the air.

Getting the gym started was not the only challenge. In the early 2000s, Shin’s Redwood City studio became the target of multiple attacks by unidentified vandals. His car was set on fire, windows were shattered, and firebombs were hurled into the gym, leaving many supplies destroyed and repairs costing thousands. 

“When I first arrived in America, a lot of people came over and challenged my dojo. Boxing champions and other martial arts teachers came and fought me, and vandals attacked my studio. If I lost to them, I would have to shut down my school, those were the unspoken rules. Thankfully I never lost.,” Shin said.

For a man who had spent decades teaching discipline, and integrity, this wave of destruction felt extremely personal. 

“I spent my whole life learning to defend myself and others,” Shin said. “But this was different. I couldn’t see the attacks coming.” 

Despite his efforts to stake out the studio at night and even with the help of devoted students, the vandals were never caught.

Students stepped up to watch over the gym, protecting a place that felt like home to many. It wasn’t just about the building — it was about keeping alive against unseen challenges.

Despite the hardships, Shin’s passion for taekwondo and his in-depth teaching methods began to draw attention, attracting students from all walks of life — including a young Bruce Lee.

“In San Francisco, most dojos don’t allow the people to watch their training. It’s a secret practice, but I needed the business, and I let everyone watch,” Shin said.

Shin’s openness to sharing his art is what first attracted the young star.

“Bruce Lee showed up at my door and would watch me teach, the same way I watched the older children back in Korea. He became my student, and I trained him for many years. Before he was famous I taught him all my techniques, if you watch his movies you can see that his kicks are exactly the same as mine. I did a demonstration with him a few times in Long Beach,” Shin said.

This connection to Lee, who later became a global icon, marked a turning point in Shin’s career. Lee’s rise to fame brought well-deserved recognition to Shin’s teaching methods, though Shin remained humble about his role.

Shin and Lee worked closely during Lee’s early years, and their partnership included more than a few demonstrations in Long Beach.

“He never performed in a group, and only practiced alone. He was very shy, but I knew him well,” Shin said. “He was determined, and I was happy to help him.”

During those early years, the dojo was rarely quiet — the crisp crack of breaking boards mixed with the thud of feet striking mats. Voices echoed against the walls, while the hum of conversation filled the moments between drills. Buzzing fluorescent lights illuminated the room, giving the room a vibrant hum of energy.

Over the years, Shin’s dojo became a cornerstone of the martial arts community, but financial hardships and neighborhood changes forced him to relocate three times. Each move was a challenge, requiring him to rebuild from scratch, but his students’ loyalty and perseverance kept his vision alive.

“I had to pack up everything and start over,” Shin said. “But the students followed me. They believed in me.” Most recently, Shin relocated the dojo to 1201 Old County Road in Belmont, CA, where it continues to thrive as a space for students to grow and learn.

Today, Hwa Rang Kwan continues to shape future generations of martial artists. The new dojo feels like a fresh start, with polished mats gleaming under bright overhead lights. Photos from Shin’s past line the walls, their black-and-white frames telling the story of his journey. 

“Grandmaster Shin is probably the best martial arts teacher I’ve had. I was his student for more than 5 years and only had to stop when I moved away. His teachings and understanding of the sport make him really special, and if it weren’t for the distance, I would still be trying with him today,” Justin Ji said, a Carlmont sophomore who used to practice at Hwa Rang Kwan.

Over the years, Shin’s gym grew, and taekwondo became increasingly popular in the U.S. Today, taekwondo is a globally recognized sport and as a ninth dan black belt and revered figure in Kukkiwon, Shin’s rank is extremely impressive.

Shin’s dojo is a blend of history and vitality, with rows of students practicing in crisp white uniforms. The mats bear the marks of countless training sessions. The walls are a timeline of his journey, filled with photographs that celebrate the dedication of generations of students.

“I’m probably one of the few living ninth-degree dans. It’s a very difficult process. One woman, my junior, was supposed to get her ninth dan, but she has cancer, so I don’t think she will be able to attain it,” Dong Shin said. “It’s very strict. You have to do the physical routine for the promotion test, and they don’t give a certificate without a permission test, so a lot of people fail when they get too old.”

Shin’s perseverance and lifelong commitment to the martial arts world helped him become an extremely well-known and respected figure in the world of taekwondo.

Despite financial struggles, Shin’s generosity always stood out. Near the entrance of the dojo, there’s a small jar labeled “For the Poor,” where donations are collected for those in need and are given to the Samaritans every month. Even when facing his own financial difficulties, Shin continues to give back.

“Helping others is part of what taekwondo teaches,” Shin said. “The 12 meridian points are all vital points, and in training, you’re learning how to use them to defeat your opponent. But the stronger you get, the more you learn about how to flip this knowledge and use it to save others.”

The philosophy of taekwondo is unlike most of the other martial arts, and Shin puts a strong emphasis on the thinking behind the movements.

“You must know the theory behind your movement. It is important to be not only a technician but an engineer. Unlike technicians and mechanics, engineers not only understand what to do, but why it is important to do so. They understand the whole system, which is the most important part,” Shin said.

According to the article “Mindfulness and Madness in Martial Arts Philosophy”, studies show that martial arts improve mental health by reducing anxiety and stress in over 70% of participants, with many reporting increased self-confidence.

“It wasn’t just about teaching people how to fight; it was about teaching them discipline and respect,” Shin said.

His emphasis on character development resonated deeply with his students, allowing them to not only grow in martial arts but also in life. 

“Grandmaster Shin is the real deal. From my time with him, I can tell that he is not interested in simply making money out of students. He cares about the development of his students and about imparting proper techniques without watering down the syllabus. It is rare to find such martial arts schools these days,” said Janice Goh, a student and friend of Shin’s.

Shin’s journey is a reflection of the immigrant spirit and the power of passion to break through barriers. His legacy is carried on by every student who steps onto the mat, inspired by his vision and perseverance. 

“Hwa Rang Kwan is the best taekwondo place we could only imagine. Small dojo led by the highest-ranked Grandmaster Shin, who has a very personal approach to each student. It was an honor to be part of that school,” said Maria Shpakova-Steuck, one of his former students.

As he reflects on his journey, Shin acknowledges the challenges he’s faced, including the need to adapt as times change.

“I’ve had to restart so many times. When you lose a gym, it feels like losing a piece of your life,” Shin said. “But I tell my students: you don’t stop, you don’t quit, you keep moving forward.”

For Shin, teaching was more than a profession — it was a way to keep his spirit alive.

“I love teaching, and I am still learning,” Shin said. “Teaching is my exercise. When you get old, you cannot train, but when I am teaching, I revive my training. When I teach a little kid I can correct myself and learn from the teaching.”

Today, as taekwondo continues to thrive in America, Shin’s influence is still felt by those who practice the art. His impact is not only seen in his students but in the way taekwondo has become an integral part of martial arts culture in the U.S. 

His story serves as a reminder that the path to success is never easy, but with belief, dedication, and the courage to follow one’s passion, it is possible to overcome even the greatest challenges.

“Taekwondo taught me about life,” Shin said “And now, I hope it continues to teach others.”