On a Wednesday night at Makoto Kai Judo dojo in Norwalk, the clinking sounds of weights dropping onto the floor and hip-hop music can be heard on the right side of the room.

Then on the opposite side, a judo instructor standing at 5 feet, 10 inches tall in a blue gi uniform with a black and red belt tied around his waist steps onto the 2,500-square-foot mats, ready to teach a class of children and adults.

When he is not donning a gi, he wears another uniform with a badge pinned on the left side of his chest, along with a black basketweave belt attached with pouches of equipment around his waist and four silver stars on the collars of his neatly ironed uniform shirt.

That man is Matthew Vander Horck, 57, who was hired to become the 10th full-time chief of police at the El Camino College Police Department, which was founded in 1970, following demonstrations and concerns about campus safety.

He succeeds Michael Trevis, who led the department for 16 years, and Sgt. Ruben Lopez, who served as interim chief of police in 2024 after Trevis’ retirement.

Vander Horck brings more than three decades of experience in law enforcement to the department’s 55-year history, mentoring officers the same way he mentored deputies at the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department as well as students at Makoto Kai Judo.

“As a leader, you coach everybody and then you mentor those that work directly underneath you — you’re trying to get them to learn not just their position, but your position,” Vander Horck said.

Long before practicing his judo throws on the mats and serving communities for 33 years with the department, Vander Horck grew up in Long Beach playing cops and robbers with friends in his neighborhood, with aspirations of becoming a police officer.

Law enforcement runs deep in his family.

Vander Horck’s great-grandfather, Christopher Schonnesen, was a motor officer with the Minneapolis Police Department. His father, John Vander Horck, a 33-year LAPD veteran.

“My dad was my hero,” Vander Horck said. “He was Batman, Superman, Spider-Man all rolled into one man.”

The elder Vander Horck discouraged his son from becoming a police officer, wanting to drive his future into dentistry.

Intent on stepping foot into law enforcement, Vander Horck took classes in the administration of justice program at Long Beach City College, unbeknownst to his father and mother, JoAnn.

“It was a different time,” Vander Horck said. “I can’t recall a time when my parents ever sat down and asked me about my homework or what grades I was getting.”

That dream turned into reality when he was sworn in as a police officer in the reserve program at LAPD’s Harbor Division in October 1989, where he worked three to five shifts a week all while taking classes at California State University, Long Beach.

Eager to transition to a full-time role, Vander Horck was hired with the LASD in August 1991 after the city of Los Angeles unexpectedly faced a hiring freeze.

After graduating from the academy in December that year, he was assigned to the Hall of Justice jail in downtown LA.

More than three decades later, a long, wooden sword known as a rudis sits on the top corner of a shelf in his office, located in a small building on the southeast corner of ECC’s campus at 16007 Crenshaw Blvd.

The rudis commemorates Vander Horck’s 33-year career with LASD.

“Every decision I’ve made in life, whether it’s for my job, whether it’s when I transition from being an athlete to a coach, those opportunities put me in a position to be impactful,” Vander Horck said.

To his knowledge, Vander Horck is one of three people to have received a rudis in the department, given to him by his colleagues.

Also on that shelf sit football helmets of the ECC Warriors, the Michigan Wolverines and the Minnesota Vikings.

The Vikings helmet is representative of his father’s home state.

Next to that helmet is the one for the Michigan Wolverines, representative of his mother’s side of the family.

During World War II, his maternal grandmother and great-aunt accepted jobs teaching Japanese to U.S. Army officers at the University of Michigan, which served as a base camp.

The offer came after his grandparents were interred at Manzanar in California, which resulted in the Nozawa family on his mother’s side, moving to Michigan.

After the war ended in 1945, Vander Horck’s relatives on that side of the family stayed in Michigan to save up enough money to return to California after losing their livelihood.

“In my family, they associated the University of Michigan with saving them from the camp,” Vander Horck said. “Everybody on my mom’s side of the family are die-hard Michigan Wolverine fans and so I grew up on it.”

Commander Jennifer Seetoo, who currently serves at LASD’s North Patrol Division, has known Vander Horck since he was a training officer at the Compton station.

Seetoo describes Vander Horck as someone who is not only a colleague, but embodies intelligence, strategy and commitment to community engagement.

As a colleague, Vander Horck showed his sense of humor in many ways, including in the form of “Nerf Gun wars.”

Seetoo said Vander Horck was the “go-to-guy” at the station for issues including community relations, graffiti and fire communication strategies.

“He’s just really good at solving situations,” she said. “He would sit down and come up with strategies of how we could do better with fires, how we communicate during fires.”

That same approach translates to the training mats, where he teaches his judo students how to problem-solve techniques.

One of those students is Dave Romero, a brown-belt in the martial art.

“He doesn’t command you – he teaches you,” Romero, 59, said. “He will make sure that before you even know how to do the technique, you understand the principle behind the technique.”

Vander Horck, a fifth-degree black belt or “Godan,” is also a certified national coach and referee under the United States Judo Association.

As students are drilling techniques, he walks around the mats to check on their progress on a Wednesday night.

A student raises his hand to ask about a technique.

“I just want you to get the knee in there,” Vander Horck tells the student.

Vander Horck, along with black belt instructors Matt Everett and Jassen Andrus, spar with the students as the training session moves along.

A few minutes go by.

“9!” Vander Horck says, projecting his voice as he is counting down.

“8!”

“7!”

“6!”

“5!”

By the time he counts to five, the student he is training with – much smaller in size and physique, is pinned down from a “Kami Shiho Gatame” position, in which the two are lying in opposite directions, with Vander Horck’s chest-down on top, his body stretched over his training partner’s head and shoulders like a weighted blanket.

Moments like how Vander Horck instructed a student to bring his knee in is something Romero appreciates about his “sensei,” or “teacher” in Japanese.

“He would teach you the hard way first, until you understand and know that – he’ll give it to you and teach you the practical, easier way,” Romero said.

The 59-year-old added that the impact Vander Horck had on him was not only teaching the smaller details of a technique, but also led to a human value that he learned to improve on.

Romero said techniques learned on the mats are applicable off-the mats.

“I’ve learned how to be patient,” Romero said. “‘If you position your foot this way, it’s less effective than positioning your foot or your hip a certain way,’ that’s patience.”

Romero is not the only mentee to Vander Horck.

When Seetoo was an operations lieutenant at the Malibu/Lost Hills Station, Vander Horck was a captain, teaching her how to work logistics that included budgets, contracts and personnel.

“He invests in the people that work for him and teaches them how to think strategically,” Seetoo said.

Meanwhile, the brown rudis sitting in Vander Horck’s office tells a story of his growth as a deputy, inscribed with his ranks and years.

Deputy, 1991 to 2005.

Sergeant, 2005 to 2011.

Lieutenant, 2011 to 2019.

Captain, 2019 to 2025.

What the sword does not show are the controversies that can come with the job, something Vander Horck is no stranger to.

One of those controversies was his transfer to the Men’s Central Jail in Los Angeles from his Malibu/Lost Hills Station command in 2020.

The transfer came after an incident that year in which a student from Pepperdine University reported a sexual assault at her Malibu residence. The suspect, Matthew Fairchild, was convicted of misdemeanor sexual battery as a result.

Fairchild pleaded not guilty to charges of assault, first-degree burglary and first-degree residential burglary.

Several Malibu news outlets, including an article published by The Malibu Times reported Vander Horck was demoted after he was disciplined for how responding deputies handled the sexual assault.

However, Vander Horck told Warrior Life he was not demoted, but was instead transferred to the Men’s Central Jail. A report from The Acorn said he was reassigned and replaced on Feb. 21, 2020.

The article did not cite a reason for the transfer.

“You can’t demote somebody for something that one of their deputies did,” Vander Horck said. “I never received any discipline – in fact, there was no investigation or anything about any of that stuff.”

He added that the transfer to the Men’s Central Jail is part of the political nature of working for the sheriff.

“At the end of the day, the sheriff makes his own decisions, it’s his department,” Vander Horck said.

Warrior Life attempted to reach former LASD Sheriff Alex Villanueva for comment on Vander Horck’s transfer but he did not respond to multiple requests.

Chief Allen Castellano, who serves in North Patrol Division, worked with Vander Horck in the jails and courts as deputies.

Their careers intersected again at the Lakewood Station when Castellano was a captain, Vander Horck, an operations lieutenant.

Castellano is also Vander Horck’s mentor. He stood by him during this time in his career.

“My guidance to him was always stand up to do the right thing and no matter what move it is, stay positive and stay focused on being able to contribute to the best of your ability to the department,” Castellano said. “I know it was very discouraging for Matt Vander Horck to be told that you’re going to be moving from Malibu Lost Hills to Men’s Central Jail – but Matt never lost focus.”

Weeks prior to the sexual assault in Malibu, Vander Horck’s deputies at the Lost Hills station received backlash for sharing photos of bodies in the Calabasas helicopter crash that claimed the lives of NBA legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna Maria-Onore Bryant, along with seven other passengers.

Vander Horck testified in court that three days after the helicopter crash, he received a notification from the Sheriff’s Information Bureau that a Lost Hills deputy trainee shared the photos at a bar of Bryant’s remains.

After receiving the notification, Vander Horck conducted a supervisory inquiry by enlisting a lieutenant to investigate.

That investigation identified the deputy who showed Bryant’s remains in photos through a tattoo he had on his arm, which led to an internal affairs investigation.

Villanueva later contacted Jorge Valdez, who was captain of the SIB and Lt. John Satterfield (ret.) with instructions for Vander Horck’s operations lieutenant, Hector Mancinas to find out if any photos were taken at the crash site.

Vander Horck said this was a violation of the Peace Officer Bill of Rights, because it prevents from admission to any wrongdoing.

He felt this directive raised red flags, telling the jury that the photos would not have evidentiary value.

Villanueva ordered for a deletion of photos, warning that deputies would be fired if members of the media obtained them. Vander Horck expressed his concerns to his supervisor, Chief Dennis Kneer, who contacted Villanueva to protest the order.

Kneer reported back to Vander Horck, informing him the sheriff has the authority to order deputies to admit to having photos and delete them.

Vander Horck did not want his deputies to face consequences similar to another case.

That case involved deputies who were sent to prison in an FBI investigation into the jail system under former LASD Sheriff Lee Baca who was found guilty in 2017 for obstructing the investigation into the correctional system.

Those deputies were ordered to move an inmate and change his booking name to hide him from federal investigators.

“My biggest concern was to my employees,” Vander Horck said.

Vander Horck does not like to discuss these matters and would rather highlight the positives of his job.

“It distracts from the really cool job we have as cops,” he said.

One of those periods of his career included the time when he was working as a training officer in Compton when his first child, Raiden, was born.

“I think the most fun I ever had on the department was when I was a training officer at Compton,” Vander Horck said.

Another highlight was when he selected by the FBI to attend the agency’s National Academy in Quantico, Va. for a 10-week training period.

He was one of the less than 2% of law enforcement officers in the U.S. given the opportunity to attend a professional development and leadership course, joining 231 officers who traveled from every state and 30 different countries.

That training and mentorship manifested itself throughout his career, on and off the judo mats.

Castellano, who was a captain at the time, appointed Vander Horck as his operations lieutenant when they worked together at the Lakewood station, because he showed the willingness to learn.

“He wanted more responsibility – I selected Matt, because he was so eager to learn,” Castellano said. “I would bring him everywhere with me and expose him to all the different aspects of the job.”

Passing on his knowledge, Vander Horck had an influence on other leaders in the department.

“What he was learning, he was teaching as well,” Castellano said.

Andrus, a second-degree black belt or “Nidan,” said that when Vander Horck is on the mats, he teaches the nuances of techniques.

“He’s like, ‘think about how your hands are going to be and then think about his balance and pull him off, make him react and then you react,’” Andrus said. “I don’t have a way of explaining it like he [Vander Horck] does.”

While Vander Horck continues to shape officers on and off the mat, others in the judo community are also championing its practical benefits for those in law enforcement.

Taybren Lee, a developer with the USA Judo P3 Program, has been practicing the martial art for 35 years.

P3 is designed specifically for law enforcement professionals, teaching officers how to use non-lethal judo techniques and body positioning to de-escalate situations without having to resort to deadly force with weapons.

Lee said the martial arts equip officers with the ability to be comfortable with themselves.

“Judo provides you a better way of thinking, your balance – it’s physical so you’re in better shape,” Lee said. “High-level judo is all about decision-making, so it’s very similar to law enforcement, being that you got to make quick decisions in a very small amount of time.”

He adds that while lessons learned on the mats are applicable on the mats, they also apply to the technicalities of police work.

“Training periods will make you better, whether it’s report-writing, arrest and control, shooting – the more you train you’re going to get better at those things that are needed,” Lee said.

The ideas Lee speaks to are the same ones Vander Horck brings to life on the mats and in his department.

At ECCPD, he’s mentoring a new generation of officers.

His top priority is to provide service at the highest professional level and fill key vacancies in the department.

Since stepping into his role, Vander Horck has added three new police vehicles to the fleet and is looking to reintroduce consistent enforcement of parking citations — a departure from the previous chief of police’s approach.

Decades after chasing his childhood dreams, Vander Horck is shaping the future of campus policing with the same discipline and focus he brings to the dojo.

Whether he’s adjusting a student’s footwork on the mat or leading officers, his approach is the same — detailed, deliberate, and driven by a deep sense of responsibility.

And that’s exactly what he plans to do — one throw and one decision at a time.