A yoga teacher reminisces about her social service days
By Shana Sturtz
Some people say working in social services is a thankless job, but, having done both, I think being a yoga teacher is actually less gratifying. I worked in social services for many years before I became a yoga teacher, and perhaps my clients didn’t always express the utmost gratitude, but hell, at least there was agency recognition, awards for strong programs, and the personal reward of (sometimes) strengthening families. Not to mention, I had a good boss who recognized my abilities and helped me grow.
In yoga, about the strongest feedback I have gotten from a mentor is, “You should have said exhale instead of inhale.” When you teach yoga, you expose a personal side of yourself. Teaching yoga is your personal art form. What you say and the sequences you choose are an expression of you as a teacher. Anyone who says you shouldn’t give a shit what others think of your class may not realize how personal it is. It’s like saying “Don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of you,” and we all know that, to varying degrees, most people actually do. (Disclaimer: I am referring to yoga asana in this article, and not making a commentary on teaching meditation or any of the other limbs of yoga.)
After teaching a class, many students are kind enough to give me a sweaty “Thank you” or say how good they feel, even though I could have sworn they were pissed the whole time. Some students recognize something specific about the class, which I love, and others will leave class saying nothing, ever. So yes, it feels good to be recognized when you make others feel good, but doing this job, I still feel on empty much of the time.
I have tossed around this discussion with many of my yoga teacher friends, lamenting about the emptiness, and apart from that, my struggle of wanting to gauge the experience or depth of the class. Usually I get a hodgepodge answer about how the rewards need to come from within, and so on. Basically, I need to change and not give a flying fuck about what the student thinks, and just continue to teach from my heart, and then I will be at peace. To a certain extent I agree, but to another extent, teaching yoga makes me vulnerable. I want to know what people feel. Maybe from my social service days, I am longing to make a difference.
Yoga teachers are on stage, displaying our art, our abilities and our knowledge, just like any other teacher.
When people are indifferent or negative, it feels like they are rejecting a part of me. Oh, but right, I am a yoga teacher and I’m not supposed to get caught up in rejection. Who the hell doesn’t care about rejection? I am not so possessed with inner confidence not to care, not to notice, and not to want to know what my students think of their experience in class, and how I could make it better.
On the other hand, I am well aware that the yoga experience is personal and can be affected by all the life variables and baggage we each bring to class as students. If I make it to class when I am in an awful mood, my experience will be greatly altered, and I can only hope that yoga will soften some of the awfulness. So on those days, I don’t say much either, because I realize it’s my own shit going on.
In my social services days, I saw the results of helping people survive and meet basic needs, and so in comparison, teaching yoga feels a little vapid. Helping someone stay out of jail or find employment or whatever has its own rewards that have nothing to do with the client appreciating the work you’ve done. I left the social service world behind because I was burnt out, stressed and discouraged by many of my clients. I know the reality. Regardless, visible changes were happening with clients in either direction and it was exciting to see progress when it happened.
I can always see the lens to the past more clearly than the present.
It’s easy to romanticize something — even if it is social services, something no one has ever been accused of romanticizing before. One cannot imagine how I could be reminiscing about the social service days, because I am now a disgruntled yoga teacher. This must be a first.
All I know is that when I worked those service jobs, I may have been discouraged, but I had a boss to confide in, a system to support me, and the occasional success story to provide motivation. Teaching yoga, I don’t really have any of those things. Instead, I have a practice that makes a tangible difference in a lot of peoples’ lives, but to me often seems duplicitous and self important. Yoga and the yoga world have a complex, believing they are more important than they are, just as I believe the problems in my head are more important than they are. As a reminder to the yoga world, but mainly to me, there’s a big fucking world out there… now go find a career.
About Shana Sturtz
Shana Sturtz is a certified yoga teacher and survivor of the exploding Portland, Oregon yoga scene. She currently lives in Guadalajara, Mexico with her husband, Tom. She continues to teach yoga and tutors in English. She has practiced yoga for 15 years, and yes, she is older than most yoga teachers. She is currently looking for more ways to occupy her time in this new land where she hasn’t quite grasped the language, and she is too scared to drive. Coming from Portland, you only learn to ride a bike. While no longer living in Portland (where a new yoga studio opens every hour) she is forced to practice her yoga within the comforts of her home, often with her cat looking on admiringly.
18 Comments !
Leave a Reply
Vision_Quest2 says:
Just so you know, in the years I’d taken yoga classes at a studio, loud clattering noises and noises like human bodies being thrown, i.e., noises like someone being beaten up in the middle of the night from the apartment on the floor above kept me from getting sufficient sleep before many of my yoga classes. Yoga teachers did not directly teach to that class of people who live in tenements.
[I came to class sleep-deprived and pissed off and I'd let them know what was wrong about their class. Granted, they did not care since my class of student is not in their target demographic. But they did not have to be nasty and defensive about 2/3rds of it!]
Yoga teachers who don’t want to be social workers of sorts, well, I think the market weeds them out, too …
kate says:
being a yoga teacher myself, i can get behind most of this. there are a lot of fluffy, flowery, woo woo type yoga studios and teachers out there who encourage you to just be one with the universe and all else will come. and while i don’t subscribe to that very much, i DO find significant support from my fellow teachers, studio owners, and students. (it took a while to find that community!) many students have become close friends. those students who do seem pissed the whole class, may or may not come back, and quite frankly, i actually don’t care, because you can’t be everyone’s best teacher.
i also teach in a high school and elementary school, which is insanely rewarding and fulfilling– perhaps in the ways you miss in the social service world. there are lots of ways to share yoga that’s not only to lululemon-clad, green juice cleansing, holier than thou trophy wives. but i believe that’s actually a form of service work too. we all need this yoga shit in one way or another.
lastly, i think this is a pretty sweet career to wake up thrilled to go to work, make enough money to save and travel, and be able to have that flexible schedule to have lunch dates almost any day of the week.
Shana says:
Kate, I am happy you have found support from other teachers and students in your community. I did have that also to a certain extent when I was living in Portland and teaching in a larger yoga community. I made friends with a lot of students and loved many of my fellow teachers. I also had some negative and discouraging experience, which is part of the reason for my perspective and writings on these subjects. I just recently had kind of an epiphany about this while teaching yoga in Mexico. Although I sometimes feel lucky to be doing this work, I also often feel like I am not doing enough, and that I would be respected more intellectually and for my other skills if I chose something for my future other than teaching yoga. It’s my own stuff.
whitney says:
Make enough money to save and travel? ha– not in this economy as a yoga teacher…. at least, not for me, 9 years into teaching. Phew.
Shana, this article was hilarious and true. I feel like an under-appreciated receptacle of negativity some days on the job, and there’s no co-workers to complain to. Oh, and I’m not supposed to be complaining in the first place.
Sometimes I want to just own the downsides of being a yoga teacher and say them out loud. Thanks for doing just that– I’m glad you’re here!
Jill says:
You sound discouraged – and you shouldn’t be. You’re feeling what any normal human feels. We all need to be acknowledged and thanked. Especially when you give your all to something for the good of others and it never gets recognized. It’s insulting and it hurts!
Perhaps your students are falling into the trap of thinking that they pay for the class, therefore they dont’ need to say thank you. Or that yoga instruction is a “calling” that you do out of the goodness of your heart and therefore you don’t need acknowledgement? Both are untrue and unfair, of course.
I’m reading your post on Secretaries Day – another profession that can feel thankless. I think your essay is a good reminder to us all that EVERYONE needs recognition and appreciation – - regardless of their salary, title, calling or whatever.
Shana says:
Jill, I thank you for this. I think one of the reasons I find my post kind of ironic is because when I was in social work, I was often feeling unappreciated as well, but now I see all the ways it fulfilled me. So, maybe this is really a me thing. I see your point though. A lot of times we don’t think about being as appreciative of people who are doing a job that seems to be their calling or if we imagine they are doing it for the love of the job. Yes, everyone should be acknowledged and appreciated for what they do. A lot of people see teaching yoga as a fun hobby for the teacher and not really a job.
nathan says:
A few things are important to consider. First off, the way the average yoga class is structured allows for next to zero in class time to have any dialogue with students. Having been a classroom teacher in the past, yoga teaching is very different from working directly with students through conversation, projects, debates, and other forms of interaction. Sometimes, you can feel those energetic shifts and changes that occur, but too often yoga students remain virtual strangers to their teachers. (It’s a small minority the students who actually develop friendships with their teachers outside of class.)
Secondly, I see this post as about more than just recognition and getting some sense of approval. It’s really a response to the ways in which much of yoga in North America has been reduced to a physical practice, conducted in consumer-driven settings. I say this as someone who fully intended – after over a decade of practice and a recently completely YTT – to begin teaching myself. As I became steeped in studies to become a teacher, I was also looking around and seeing what the classes actually looked like and felt like. And too often it felt like a feel good experience, where the contradictions, challenges, confusions, and suffering in life were never really addressed. It was like folks were arriving for their “hit” of yoga, as if it were a drug they took to make it through the day. Obviously, providing stress relief is a very positive thing to do, but yoga is so much more than that.
Furthermore, the richness of yoga teachings and texts throughout history are often barely detectable in most classes, even amongst people who have supposedly practiced for years. In fact, in the teacher training program I recently completed, it was difficult to even get yoga teacher trainees to discuss and consider in depth some of these teachings. The majority of my classmates were so used to the model of heavy on the asana, light on everything else that, when faced with something different, they didn’t know how to respond.
Finally, I’m also a former social service rat. The jobs I had were quite challenging at times, and I, too, ended up burning out. However, when I have thought about teaching yoga in a studio or gym, and compared it with those job – the thing that stands out is how “real” everything was in those social service places. By “real” what I mean is whole. Complete. Joys and sorrows. Ease and painful discomfort. The need to really face the messy complexities of life together, and figure out the best way forward. Too often, yoga in North America is a highly imbalanced and one dimensional experience. It doesn’t have to be that way, but hey, the fluffy, sweaty yoga pill is the one people love to swallow, for better or worse.
Vision_Quest2 says:
Teachers who try to teach to the whole person, are not appreciated in the more trendy yoga class setting. The one who can’t afford the private session may be one of the more troubled students the teacher may have. So, the student will be neither-here-nor-there when it comes to availing themselves of the private session … and is more likely to be reached through distance learning (yoga teachers: hint! hint! … even OM Yoga in New York City will choose to go that route very soon, having lost their lease) … if at all (chances are that they have, over time, developed their own practice sequences) ….
Fluffy, sweaty pill, indeed.
When it could be a self-administered tiny-needle injection … a little more painful, but acting twice-as-fast ….
I’d left a trendy studio for one of the old-school: an underheated slow off-the-radar hatha place I’d been steered towards by word-of-mouth.
Sorry for sounding so retro. My bad.
I am readying myself for my home practice now.
Shana says:
Nathan, what it comes down to is teaching yoga is not going to be a totally fulfilling job for me, with or without the feedback and approval I am seeking. I will continue to do it for awhile, but I think eventually it will fizzle out and I will move on to a different career, where yoga teaching or fitness instruction of some kind is my hobby but not my main thing. And, when it is not the main thing, it should allow me to put it all in perspective. When it is my only job, it just doesn’t provide all of the aspects I need to challenge myself and feel well-rounded in my contribution to society, no matter how I alter it to meet my job needs.
Laura says:
teaching yoga can be as alienating as any other job. It really depends on where you teach and how much freedom you have to choose the format of your classes. For instance, a workshop format would enable you to better interact with your students, as there would be fewer time constraints, and besides performing asanas, you can discuss different topics, and address your students’ issues. Another option would be to keep a blog and invite your students to contribute to it ( in this way even the shy ones get a chance to express their thoughts.)
I am a language teacher and use my blog to encourage students’ discussions. It works really well. I also teach private students, and find it very rewarding because i get a chance to get to know my students pretty well. Some of them want to talk about their problems rather than practice a foreign language, which is perfectly fine by me: i know that when your marriage is on the rocks, or when you lose your job, practicing the subjunctive seems a bit pointless.
One-to-one yoga is clearly a luxury that only wealthy people can afford, which means you may interact only with a privileged section of the community (i would find it very infuriating too) Teaching a group class on the other hand can be a very anonymous thing, you never hear your students’ voices, you are just dealing with their bodies. There is no dialogue,it’s a one way only communication: you give instructions, they follow them. This is the alienating format that deterred me from teaching yoga after completing my teacher training.
Vision_Quest2 says:
Some of the best yoga and dance teachers do both distance teaching and blogging. On one yoga site, for example, that combination goes on all the time. Some of the best interactions with the whole yoga student, happen in a distance-learning setting.
That OM studio I’d mentioned above is genius in that while they will still have the high-end services such as yoga teacher trainings and workshops/retreats, they recognize that we are moving into a new age now. This is the “post-instructional era” in yoga (I think I read it on The Flying Yogini).
Some will go to class to show off their Lulus, and others will go to a community class. But you are right, there is no time to interact with the teacher (or, most of the time – at least where I live – with other students).
Shana says:
I really like the blog idea. Then students can reflect on class and submit feedback after the fact. Very interesting.
Joe says:
Regarding not being supposed to be caught up in rejection… While I no longer have a supernatural spiritual quest I have tried not to throw out the baby with the bathwater. I like vipassana meditation because it is no-BS and develops acceptance of myself. In daily activity I still have to choose which thoughts and emotions to act on, but I don’t try to suppress the other thoughts and emotions because they are part of my Reality soup. I find this very freeing because I am not trying to play-act a “spiritual” state.
Nadine Fawell says:
What an interesting piece, Shana. I had a corporate job before teaching yoga, and that felt empty – so I am in the opposite boat where this is the job that fills me up. But I’d never really thought about the lack of feedback quite the way you’ve put it. I do find that because I work with private clients a lot, and keep my classes small in group settings, I get to know people well and see their lives change because of the yoga.
I suspect if I didn’t have that, I’d be feeling the emptiness, just like you do.
I can’t believe you chose MEXICO to learn to drive in! Ga!
David says:
Nice, heartfelt post. Thanks. My classes are usually 8 ~ 10 people. I find that a main source of feedback is watching the students as we practice. I believe that I can get a good idea of whether they’re with me and whether we’re all together by making my own observation. I think I can read the room. It is also very important to me that I greet each student upon arrival and that I say goodbye at the door to each student as they leave. I get lots of smiles and hugs – and thank-you’s – at this point. But that’s not why I do it. (Okay, not totally. I do want the encouragement.) I want them to feel welcomed and valued.
I know you know this, but… Being a yogi includes the practice of not being swayed by praise or blame. We do things because they’re the right thing to do. Difficult practice, to say the least. But there it is. You said that your fall back position is to teach from the heart and not worry about it. That’s it exactly. But it’s really hard to do.
And it doesn’t mean that you don’t care what happens. You obviously do care about people and what happens to them. Let your heart break. That’s just being who you are. And it’s fair for you to want a little recognition and re-assurance. Nothing at all un-yogic about that. Most of us have no business comparing ourselves to saints with perfect practice. You wouldn’t do that to your students; don’t do it to yourself. Be a mess if that’s where you are today. Let your students see that we all deal with the same shit – yogis included. Especially yogis. Yoga is mostly a battle in the mind. And next class, block the doorway after class and don’t let them leave without giving you a hug. That’s what I do.
Justin says:
I’ve got a good idea — stop teaching yoga. It doesn’t sound like you teach yoga, anyway. It sounds like you teach asanas.
Joslyn Hamilton says:
Justin, you’re boring.
Justin says:
True.