The Changing Face of Yoga Teaching – College v. Fitness Culture

Yoga teachers (and their more thoughtful students) may well feel that a sports/fitness centre is a totally unsuitable venue. Classes entitled “Fatburner” and “Butts ‘R’ Us” (I kid you not) may seem like very uncomfortable bedfellows! However, we must also ask ourselves whether the culture of an adult education college is any more sympathetic. More about this later, but suffice to say that I believe that yoga is strong enough to adapt to changing circumstances as it has for millennia. Yoga has survived official hostility and (in some countries) persecution; public hostility and ridicule, the sneering tendency, the freakshow mentality and the occasional scoundrel and charlatan. I think it is strong enough to survive the commercial pressures of the fitness culture. However, a lot of responsibility rests on the shoulders of teachers. If we cannot adapt to a different style of venue (only the outer shell, when you think about it), we cannot expect our students to be able to. The sports/fitness centres are only responding to public demand; if they cannot find suitably trained teachers, they will be tempted to look for less well-trained ones. That would be a disaster for yoga, bringing the whole ethos into disrepute. After all, it only takes one cowboy plumber to damage his profession.

When I first started to practice yoga nearly two decades ago, there were only two routes into a class. You could enrol through your local adult education college (as I did) or, if you were lucky, you might find a private class by word of mouth. In those days, this set up worked reasonably well. It was an educational ghetto, but it was a comfortable ghetto. Colleges had fewer funding and results pressures, and if a private class took a year to get off the ground, it wasn’t the end of the world. Times have changed. The colleges have been totally seduced by the examination system and box-ticking culture. Any course that cannot provide tangible, measurable “evidence of learning” (not my jargon!) is regarded with some suspicion. Yoga, as we all know, must be experienced rather than observed. How can I measure how a student is feeling? I once spent some time devising an elaborate questionnaire about psychological well-being. It contained questions such as “Do you often feel angry?” “Do you ever feel depressed?” “How many units of alcohol do you drink per week?” Etc. When I showed it to a colleague she was rightly appalled. “You can’t ask intrusive questions like these”, she commented. The questionnaire was duly binned. The thorny question of student assessment is a different issue altogether, but we can now see how the comfortable adult ed. overcoat no longer fits quite so well.

Another issue is the ludicrously short academic year – usually only 26 weeks, hardly enough to give students the continuity they need. In some colleges, there is a marked reluctance to encourage students to re-enrol at the end of the summer term. “Time to move over and make room for someone else” seems to be the attitude. The term “conveyor belt education” springs to mind. This is, of course, entirely appropriate for examination courses, but not for yoga, where regular long-term attendance is essential for motivation and progress. In the past, my long-term students have sometimes found themselves languishing on college waiting lists, though that situation has now changed as a disillusioned public (and tutors) vote with their feet and avoid the now soul destroying college set-up with its “teach to the test” culture and endless paperwork.

In addition to student grievances, yoga teachers in adult ed. colleges are carrying a few of their own. This is not the place for a lengthy whinge, but here in Essex, tutors have suffered pay freezes, classes cancelled at short notice and bureaucratic muddle – hardly conducive to financial security and peace of mind. They feel underpaid, undervalued, bogged down with bureaucracy and taken for granted. I understand that these feelings of alienation are common in other areas also. I am a passionate believer in the adult ed. Ideal of affordable education for anyone who wants it but I have now, after much soul searching, bowed to the inevitable and taken two of my classes out of local college management and, effectively, privatised them. The answer to these adult ed. problems would indeed seem to be the private class, but these are not so easy to set up these days. Halls do not come cheap and the teacher needs considerable marketing skills and resources. Gone are the days when you could hire a village hall for next to nothing, place an ad. in a shop window, open the doors and the yoga-starved multitude would beat a path to your door. There are many competing pressures on people’s time and money. Moreover, the public is getting choosier about where they spend their spare time. They are not prepared to put up with a venue that is cold, draughty, dirty or difficult to get to, and I for one don’t blame them.

There is another human psychological hurdle that is seldom aired. Many people (especially the male of the species!) are highly resistant to formal “educative” instruction, often because of negative childhood experiences at school. In their mind’s eye, college equals tedium, sports centre equals fun. The needs of these missing millions are just as valid as those education enthusiasts who are just as much at home in a yoga class as they are studying Russian history. In my opinion, any reason for starting yoga is a valid reason. If someone starts for the “wrong” reason, e.g. to improve appearance, it doesn't matter one iota. As they progress, other more positive reasons will emerge. It is interesting to observe that my Tuesday evening class at Dovedale Sports Centre has a much higher proportion of men and a younger average age than any of my Adult Ed. classes. This brings us to another important point. Adult education has, for perfectly good reasons, a strict over sixteen policy. I believe passionately in encouraging youngsters who are interested in yoga. Sports and fitness centres (and community associations) have a much more relaxed attitude towards age. Even if they only attend a couple of times, the seed is sown. In recent years, I have taught a number of teenagers and a girl of eleven. At the other end of the age range, I have taught a lady of eighty and another of ninety one. The eighty year old had to give up because the college in question arbitrarily cancelled the “Yoga Over Fifty” class. I rest my case.

Most sports/fitness centres operate their classes on a “drop in” basis, without formal term structures. This system, understandably, rings alarm bells with many teachers. Where is the opportunity for growth and personal development? We could ask the same question with today’s adult ed. set up. Here in Chelmsford, my beginners’ class was cancelled. There was no advanced class, so all my classes were mixed ability. At the end of our meagre 26-week year (now 27 weeks), there is a lengthy break of about 13 weeks, then everyone starts again at week one – small wonder that some don’t come back for the start of the new academic year. I get round this problem by offering a ten-week “summer yoga” course, but a less busy teacher might have problems filling such a course. The answer to the “drop in/drop out” culture is not to fight it, but accept it as part of modern life and adapt our teaching accordingly. Adaptation is not the same thing as uncritical acceptance. I don’t much like today’s T.V. culture, but I still have a set in the corner of my living room.

So, how do we adapt? It’s easier than you think. Teaching styles vary enormously, but try to visualise a typical yoga lesson. They usually (though not always) start with a relaxation, followed by some gentle “looseners” or “warm-ups”. The lesson invariably ends with a relaxation. There is no reason why any of these should be varied much because of varying ability or experience. It is the “guts” of the lesson, after looseners and before final relaxation, which is problematical. It is absolutely essential that the teacher is familiar with a wide range of postures and other practices. S/he also needs to know how each posture relates to other postures and suitable alternatives for the less (and more!) able. I am not able to comment on the current British Wheel of Yoga diploma syllabus, but the one I trained under was excellent in this respect.

If you are lacking in variety in your repertoire of postures (and other practices), invest in some good yoga books and get practising! It is not a sign of weakness or incompetence to face up to any technical deficiencies we may have, but a sign of strength and humility. Yoga books are not the only source of information. I have picked up ideas from magazines, newspapers, books on complementary therapies and, of course, other teachers. In fact, I have to plead guilty to acts of wholesale theft, but in mitigation, I am always happy to reciprocate if asked. You often have to wade through a lot of dross to find the occasional diamond, but it is usually worth the effort. Not only will it make you a better teacher; it will also help your personal practice enormously. Simply teaching the postures we were taught years ago when we were students is in my opinion, no longer an option. Our classes become impoverished and our students bored. We must grow so that our students can grow. Once we have become familiar with a wide range of practices, it is a simple matter to juggle the different degrees of intensity according to the ability and motivation of the individual student. We should never lose sight of the fact that we are not teaching a class of twenty, but twenty individuals, all with different emotional and physical baggage.

An example of posture adaptation might be useful. The camel posture (Ustrasana) puts in the occasional appearance in my classes. The essence of this posture is a kneeling back bend. The bend is quite strong and we cannot see the feet. The head is tilted back so far that it is almost inverted, while most of the body is facing forward. This makes it very difficult and intimidating for the inexperienced student. I simply demonstrated the full posture, then the same posture using a chair to support the elbows, then (for the less bold/able) the “sphinx” posture, a very gentle prone backbend similar to the cobra (bhujangasana) but with the forearms resting on the floor. Obviously, the class received the usual safety warning about tilting the head back if there are any problems with the neck. Nobody knows the body as well as the sitting tenant. To suggest otherwise is sheer arrogance. I therefore leave it to my students’ own judgement which version they attempt, but I always qualify my information by saying “beginners and near beginners are strongly advised to use a chair or try the sphinx posture” or words to that effect. This principle holds good for almost any posture. We find the essence of the posture, then think of other postures that have a similar essence. The flank stretch (Parsvakonasana) is a powerful sideways stretch. Rolling forward is an ever-present pitfall. We can rest the elbow on the knee rather than place the hand on the floor, or try the gate posture (Parighasana), a gentler sideways bend. I appreciate that these postures are not exact equivalents, but they are close enough.

In my early days at Dovedale, I wasted an inordinate amount of class time talking about issues of safety and equipment. Every time a new face appeared, I felt obliged to repeat myself. I now get round this problem by giving each new student two handouts, one headed “Yoga Safety”, the other “Recommended Equipment and Clothing”. I also have a handout entitled “Suggested Reading” for those who wish to dig a little deeper, including some material of a more spiritual nature such as the Gita and Upanishads. The opinions in these handouts are very much my own, but if any teacher wants copies, they only have to send me an A4 S.A.E. or e-mail me.

When I first started teaching at Dovedale, I was terrified that my memory would let me down, so I listed all the equivalents on my lesson plan, a fussy and time consuming exercise. I am now confident enough to just list the basics and improvise any necessary alternatives. The class has now been running continuously for many years with only a two-week break for summer holidays and one week at Christmas. It has a large nucleus of committed regulars as well as a shifting population of occasional visitors. Playing the numbers game is a bit silly, but I couldn’t help noticing, when I first started, that it was rather better attended than the circuit training class that took place at the same time. Indeed, we occasionally had problems fitting everyone into the class. The centre receptionist sometimes turned people away. A short beginner’s class before the main mixed ability class eased the pressure of numbers and provided new users with an invaluable stepping-stone.

This brings me to another point that readers might want to raise namely that of noise levels. Aren’t sports/fitness centres a bit noisy? At Dovedale there is certainly some noise, but in my experience, it annoys the teacher rather more than the students, who simply ignore it. As the class is run for their benefit, not mine, I have learnt to live with it. My other classes in health and fitness clubs are blessed with almost complete silence for most of the time, though there is sometimes a problem with the noise of weights being dropped in the gyms. I have to admit that some colleagues I have talked to have less happy experiences. Air conditioning that sounds like an aircraft taking off, pounding rock music and noises like copulating dinosaurs have prevailed. The moral seems to be to discuss these issues with centre management before committing yourself to a class, either as student or teacher.

“Isn’t it all a bit commercial?” you might ask. Well, yes and no. A fitness centre has to show a profit, but not many teachers can afford to run a class at a loss and colleges have to have a very hard-nosed attitude towards money these days. What is most important is that the class is conducted with humanity and integrity and the responsibility for that rests firmly with the teacher. I don’t get paid by numbers, so provided my classes are viable, I am spared commercial and financial pressures. However, I know some colleagues have been offered deals where they are offered a percentage of the “door money”. Everyone to their own taste, but I would avoid such a deal like the plague. The strength of the fitness/sports centres rest in their large customer bases and marketing skills. Most teachers (myself included) are ill equipped by temperament, training and resources to take on such marketing tasks. It is a far cry from handling the occasional telephone enquiry at home. However, if you have confidence in your marketing skills and you have a sympathetic and reputable centre to work with, why not? I should add that the need to earn a living is not the same thing as commercialisation. An ethically ideal but empty class helps nobody.

“What about the culture gap?” is another understandable concern. I would be guilty of dishonesty if I said that it did not exist. However, in my experience it is no greater than the culture gap that exists in the colleges, simply different. Yoga has been very fortunate in recent years. We have had a very sympathetic press. Hardly a week goes by without a glowing newspaper or magazine article. New students and centre managers are much better informed about yoga than they used to be and they are not afraid to ask if there is anything they need to know. True, some people do perceive yoga as a form of “soft aerobics”, but part of the duties of a teacher is to disabuse people of this illusion. An occasional aside, often during relaxation, is usually enough. Another duty, as I see it, is to resist, as far as possible, commercial pressures that look as if they are becoming destructive. So far, I have not had to face this problem.

It would be naïve to assume that the fitness industry is beyond criticism, but it seems to me that we need to ask ourselves what, or rather who is yoga for? My experience teaching in prisons has led me to believe most strongly that it is not just for those who think of themselves, rather piously, as spiritually aware. It is for the man with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It is for the thief trying to finance his next drug fix. It is for the prostitute looking for a better life. It is for the adrenalin addicted business executive. It is for the harassed mother who is screaming at her children. It is for the violent bully unable to express his frustrations. It is for everyone and anyone. Like Jesus, we must talk to publicans and sinners. We aren’t going to meet them in the temple.