Helping, fixing and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul. – Rachel Naomi Remen,Helping, Fixing or Serving When I first started teaching, I thought it was my job to help students. Whether it was a physical assist to get a student deeper into a pose or setting a strict tone that mandated everyone be doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time. My voice, strong and commanding, would have every student in Warrior I bringing the hip of the bent leg back and craning the back hip forward. I’d scan the room purposefully looking for deviations and would gently but firmly insist that they work to fit my words into their bodies. Because after all, I knew best. This isn’t so unusual. Many classes fit this format. It’s great for the teacher. There’s only one thing to worry about: the class plan. Many times assists and scolding students who don’t do exactly what the teacher says speaks more about the teacher’s issue of dominance. That’s a heavy statement, but I mean it. Scolding even when done with love at best creates the dynamic that the student is there to show the teacher that s/he must win the approval of the teacher to ‘advance’ in their practice. At it’s worst it can discourage a student from coming back. What this almost Socratic style of teaching doesn’t consider is the variety of backgrounds and experiences that people bring to their mats. The physical differences in every body, the emotional experiences that shape the way they move or life experiences that may prevent or enhance a student’s expression of an asana. Last summer at the height of all of the racial turmoil that was exploding and Trump racing and raving to the White House, I found myself on my mat craving community. I was the only brown face in the room. Earlier that day another Black man had been gunned down on the street. I was feeling raw. I was sad. I was angry. I was vulnerable. As we sat in easy seat the teacher asked us to set an intention. It was offered to set an intention of positive thought. All I could see was the bodies of dead black men in the street. American cities burning and a deep sadness seeping into every neuron. I wasn’t in a place to float like a tree in the breeze and smile to a better place. What would have me smile is changing legislation around policing. My better thoughts (And why do thoughts have to be good or bad? Thoughts are thoughts) centered around the privileged acknowledging that something very wrong was going down in America. There was a sense of spiritual bypassing that not only didn’t sit well with me, but also actually made me feel out of place. “No matter what the situation, there is always a better thought that we can have.” Better thoughts felt like code for ignoring the very real thoughts and feelings I was having. I was annoyed. And frustrated. Helping is not serving. Teaching meditation and trauma informed yoga in jail has taught me this. Serving students means that I set a tone of support and safety. This means really seeing the people who take class. Class is no longer mine. It belongs to the student. I know, as yoga teachers we say that a lot. Class is yours, this is your practice. But do we really mean it if we’re mandating our experience and idea of an asana on a person we may know nothing about? Getting to this place wasn’t easy. I had to do some digging and reflecting on my own ideas of dominance, insecurity and motivation around teaching. “Class is no longer mine. It belongs to the student.” It took time and training, but I stopped viewing myself as the expert and chose to leave my ego at the door. Teaching became a humbling experience where there was no room for judgment, just compassion. Oh and I know there are teachers who’d say, ‘But what about safety?!’ ‘But I like giving hands on assists! And PS, ALL my students love them, thank you very much.’ But do they? In an advanced class I’ll give you that. However, when I see a student struggling with basic body awareness I believe it’s more useful for me to verbally set the stage for inviting an internal experience. For someone to feel it on their own rather than my hands moving a body to a place it may not be ready to explore. Moving a body that I don’t know. Moving a body that I don’t have any history about. If you looked at a class that I teach in jail you might laugh. For the most part it bears no resemblance to the studio class (With the noted exception of savasana because let’s face it, savasana is the shit). There is chatting. There are questions. There are pauses to express a thought or an emotion. But most noticeably different is the lack of conformity. I leaned into give up control and turn that control over to where it belongs: in a student’s hands. You know what this means for me? In a class in jail anything can happen. I need to be prepared to serve my students where they are. It’s no longer about “let me show you stuff that’s cool” or judge your current emotional state by saying that one way to feel is more acceptable than another. This shift has made me an infinitely better teacher and has allowed me to embrace the authenticity I bring to my own practice. Let me be clear, when I sat in that class last summer I wasn’t looking for a protest to be scheduled because I don’t have expectations that a yoga teacher needs to pick up a flag for my cause. (Though I do like teachers who have a point of view, even if I don’t agree with it.) I didn’t need a tissue or even a hug. But it would have been nice for the teacher to recognize that it’s not necessary for a person to smile and think shiny thoughts to have a decent class. Thrusting the idea that one can always be positive or turn negative thoughts into positive ones isn’t realistic. It can be dangerous. It can cause more suffering when it’s discovered that a consistent state of smiling joy is attainable. Peace comes from honoring where we are in the moment. When I teach a class where students get to explore internally it may mean that a student does Virabhadrasana I with their back heel raised. And guess what? That’s okay. That’s what these students need. The world won’t end. My idea of what they need isn’t the issue. If I’m really creating a safe space I’ll allow students to move in a way that is right for their bodies. I teach classes that serve my students in the moment.
