No Toll Booths on the Mat: Thoughts on Charging for Drop-Ins

There’s something sacred about Jiu Jitsu. Anyone who’s been on the mats long enough knows it. It’s more than a martial art or a workout. It’s a language—passed hand to hand, roll to roll, gym to gym. And like any true language, it lives best when it’s spoken freely.

That’s why the idea of charging people just to visit your school, especially for a single class or open mat, feels so backward to me. If someone is dropping in from out of town, trying to get some rolls in between work trips or family obligations, and their first experience is being handed a Venmo QR code, we’re missing the point. It turns Jiu Jitsu into a transaction when it should be an invitation.

Of course, if someone is coming consistently, becoming a regular part of the room, yes—training should be paid for. That’s how you sustain a gym. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about people who are traveling, curious, trying to stay sharp and connected while on the road. These are people who pack a rashguard before a dress shirt. Who find a local gym before checking into the hotel. That kind of dedication should be celebrated, not monetized.

When I travel, I make it a point to buy a T-shirt, rashguard, hat, or hoodie from every new gym I visit. Not because I need more gear—I run a rashguard company, after all—but because it’s my way of saying thanks. I tag the school on Instagram, I drop a positive review, I shake hands and ask questions. That kind of support, especially when it comes from within the community, is worth far more than a twenty-dollar mat fee. That’s how you build relationships. That’s how you create a tribe that stretches beyond your own walls.

Open mats especially should be protected from this pay-to-play mindset. They’re the watering holes of our sport. The place where belt color, affiliation, and even language start to fade in the background. Everyone’s there for the same thing: to roll, learn, test, and connect. Charging someone to take part in that feels like charging someone to have a conversation. It kills the vibe before it even starts.

I’ve been training since 2013. I still remember the nerves of walking into a new gym, especially early on. The feeling that you weren’t welcome until you proved yourself. That unspoken elitism. Now, twelve years later, as a brown belt, I’ve worked hard to be the opposite of that. I make it a point to greet the new guys. To ask where they’re from. To roll with them in a way that builds confidence, not breaks it. Because the truth is, most people who drop in are humble, grateful, and just looking for good rounds.

Every now and then, yeah, you get a jerk. Someone who treats open mat like a tryout for ADCC and has no awareness of pace or etiquette. But those are outliers, not the norm. You don’t build your entire house for the chance it might rain once. You patch leaks when they happen, but you don’t board up the windows permanently.

And let’s be real: the majority of us teaching Jiu Jitsu aren’t making a living off it. We teach because we love it. Because we want to share what we’ve learned. Because every time we pass along a concept or a detail, we get sharper too. The notion that every piece of instruction must be paid for, every roll must be profitable, just doesn’t sit right with me. It creates a wall where there should be a bridge.

I’m not a gym owner, so I won’t pretend to know every line item on the books. But I’ve taught classes, I’ve run open mats, I’ve stayed late to drill. And I’ve felt firsthand the energy a visiting grappler can bring. They ask new questions. They move differently. They challenge your students in unexpected ways. They offer a glimpse into another room’s culture—and that kind of cross-pollination is how we all get better.

This art lives through community. Through mutual respect. Through the willingness to share. If you’re building your gym on walls instead of doors, you’re not growing Jiu Jitsu—you’re bottling it.

So the next time someone asks if they can drop in, maybe don’t default to a mat fee. Maybe ask them to tag the gym, buy a shirt, leave a review. That kind of gesture lasts longer than a payment ever will.

Jiu Jitsu doesn’t belong to any one of us. It belongs to all of us who are still showing up, still rolling, still learning. Let’s keep it that way.