The culture of culture
By Shana Sturtz
There is a culture to every community. There is the culture of environmentalism and activism, the culture of spirituality, fitness, crafting, drunkenness, you name it — not to mention the anti-culture of all of these cultures. There is the culture of being a parent, a culture I don’t attempt to understand or fit into. The only place I have ever fit in was the culture of my college newspaper, writing and editing for enough time to extend my stay in higher education.
It’s kind of a fucked-up place not having wholeheartedly fit into any culture for 13 years. I had a glimmering hope I would fit into yoga culture, only to be disturbed by so many aspects of it, including restrictions imposed upon me by a corporate yoga studio, and being belittled by a private studio owner having a shitty life. My yoga world was kind of on a power trip, and I didn’t have the stamina to keep up. It wasn’t all bad though; I mean, I did love my students.
I was just similar enough to some teachers in my community to get down on myself about not being more like them. This meant feeling pressure to lead sun salutations in open air locations for the masses, having the latest Lululemon tank I couldn’t take a full breath in, or being a Lulu ambassador who smiled while doing a one-armed back flip. If I wasn’t planning my very own yoga fundraiser or workshop, I wasn’t doing enough. If I couldn’t nail that particular posture that really fucked up my back, I had to practice more, because isn’t that what yogis say: practice more!?
Portland, Oregon: it’s like the cast of Friends; everyone is a different shade of pale white.
In the Portland yoga culture, where I taught and practiced, there was also a lot of sameness. Amongst the beautiful power Vinyasa students, with their perky, spandex covered asses, there was usually one special student who stood out: a person not fitting into the culture whatsoever, but never deterred from being part of it to the fullest extent. In my experience, these were often men. And if you have spent any time inside a hipster yoga studio, you may know some of these characters.
There was the pseudo ex-hippy dude with unkempt, long hair who practiced shirtless in torn shorts; I never real saw his face, just his tattoos. There was the ex –addict from the ’80s, suffering from a slew of health problems from back in his party days; he wore translucent white spandex and had coiffed hair with blond highlights. There was the guy who was extremely timid and needed subtle encouragement after each class to return; he always averted eye contact, and practiced in abundantly baggy street attire. And, there was the random middle-aged lawyer, completely oblivious that his shorts were too tiny. One of these students may have been known to go out with a teacher after class for a guitar jam (cringe), give out legal advice, lend a helping hand at the studio, or say something incredibly gracious and sincere.
I don’t know what brought these guys to power yoga initially—where creating pools of sweat and slipping on their mats would be an obvious problem—but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that they were there, breaking up the monotony, oblivious to the culture, without regard to the latest yoga trends, and without awareness that everyone else had spent $200 on their outfits and practiced modern dance on the side.
I know some of you are thinking: they were there for the women, duh, but I adamantly say no. In fact, they were there for the practice, a practice that made them feel better than when they walked in the door. My point is, these are the people I strived to be, then and also now: the person that is not looking for a perfect cultural fit. Unknowingly, they set a shining example of bringing their own culture into a tight-knit existing one, and not being consumed with the details or the context.
While I could not get inside their heads, there seemed to be no pretentions there, no “us vs. them” mentality. They were not trying to fit into the mold, but instead elevating the studio to a new place with their distinct personalities and backgrounds. So, all yoga bashing aside, I appreciate these students who taught me I don’t have to wear special wicking fabrics to practice yoga. You set such an inspiring example for me, in so many ways.
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.
10 Comments !
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steph says:
i could have written this, i relate so well. THANK YOU for making realize i am not the only anti culture non yoga clone ♥♥
Shana says:
It’s nice to not feel alone, right?
Matthew says:
Nice to see some mentions of men doing yoga that aren’t bullshit clichés. Thanks for writing this.
Anna says:
Thanks so much for sharing this. I think part of the reason why the Portland yoga community can seem limited, and can be limiting is because Portland isn’t a very big place. And it is not diverse at all. Portland is more of a big town–not really a city. I think that leads to a bit of a homogenous culture overall. The pressure to fit in perfectly with the community you find is greater because it feels like there is a risk that there might not be a community in Portland, given its limited size and lack of diversity, that you can be completely unselfconscious in. Having lived in New York until four years ago, I can definitely say that the types of people doing yoga in New York are much much much more diverse, and there are a lot of studios that cater to very different populations. In Portland, you have a lot of studios, but they only cater to very similar populations. I might even go so far as to say they maybe cater to only one population. All that being said, I do really love doing yoga in Portland, but I see my practice as meditative and very personal. It’s something that I do for myself. That sense of having a solitary practice even when in the midst of a large number of students probably comes out of my Ashtanga days from many years ago, but it has stuck with me and is much more important to me now.
Shana says:
Thanks, Anna. Portland really does have a fantastic yoga scene for its size, and I taught in about a dozen studios there during my tenure. I had my struggles in some places and others had wonderful and supportive teachers and studio owners. It was a mixed bag. I love the diversity you get in a place like New York City as far as studios and people. I think you really get spoiled in a place like that and I could probably find my niche. Now, I mainly practice alone and teach small groups because I live in Mexico, where yoga is not a scene and not nearly as popular. It’s very refreshing in a lot of way. Best to you.
bonnie cohn says:
A very interesting, often humorous, and insightful article. Thanks for writing it.
steph says:
portland sounds a lot like the philly yoga scene. ive been teaching for 6 years and have taught at more than 15 studios, they open and close like revolving doors! also, i have never fit into the stereotypical yogi role myself. i was always the fattest yogi in the room, wearing the cheapest pants and shirts! promised myself when i began teaching that i would be true to myself and not sell out to a stereotype or an image.
200 lbs lost since those days, and teaching full time, my classes are full of real bodied people wearing all kinds of clothes, breaking all kinds of images of what yogis should look like.
i really loved this article ♥♥
Shana says:
My friend made a good point about yoga. She said: Yoga has all sorts of ups and down, just like everything else in this world. It’s really true. There is no reason to be shy about being you and also liking yoga, even if the 2 things don’t seem to coincide on the surface. Let yoga serve you and don’t let the culture of it dictate whether you can be involved or not. I like your post, Steph. It sounds like you have some interesting stories to tell. You should submit to this blog!
Kanani Fong says:
Well, you’re a writer, who teaches yoga. That’s why the only place you ever felt was home was the college newspaper, writing & editing. As a fellow writer, I don’t think we ever really fit in anywhere –and even when we are with other writers, there is that feeling of love, though also competitiveness that we can’t deny. Even poets.
But still, what you’ve written is wonderfully detailed, has a certain structure to it that leads the reader to surprises. I suspect you can’t help but notice things, and also even be amused by the very things you poke at.
I hope you’ll keep writing. Because really and truly –you are a fun read, and a good observer of details.
Shana says:
Kanani, thanks so much for your thoughts. You have encouraged me, yes, to keep on writing.