As a White British Teacher
When I think about how I try to honour the roots and traditions of yoga as a white British yoga teacher, I am first and foremost grateful that I completed my training during 2020 and the COVID-19 outbreak. For context, our first weekend of training was swiftly followed by the first lockdown at the end of March. The political climate was also becoming more and more polarised due in part to the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement, which led to learning about and discussing topics we may not have otherwise considered. This is not to say I walked away with full knowledge and understanding of trauma-informed yoga or a complete understanding of the inner workings of yoga philosophy and culture, but rather, I believe, a deeper respect for it and a desire to keep working on deepening my knowledge. I strive to appreciate the traditions and culture and share this with my own students while being open to making mistakes and being called out when necessary.
I consciously strive to step out of my own way by always trying my best to be respectful, open to learning, and aware that I will likely make mistakes. However, I’m okay with this, knowing it will lead to gaining new perspectives and sharing them with fellow teachers and my own students. I began by reading Embrace Yoga’s Roots by Susanna Barkataki, which is written in a conversational style that makes you feel as if you’re sitting down for a cuppa with the author and having a meaningful discussion about respecting and honouring the traditions of yoga.
Since 2020, there has been an increase in white fragility experienced by many yoga teachers, causing them to either walk away from teaching or, in contrast, turn away from deepening their relationship with yoga. This is a shame and avoidable by simply doing the work: reading books, signing up to learn from Indian teachers who are part of the culture and grew up immersed in it, asking yoga festivals to actively recruit and pay Indian teachers, connecting with other teachers who don’t look exactly like you, and exploring new teaching methods to share this vast culture with your students in a new and exciting way.
One area I’ve worked hard on is chanting, as discussed in my last article, which you can read [here] . Another area is yoga philosophy, which I find fascinating. I’ve attended too many “fluffy” practices with little to no substance, focusing only on the āsana (the physical movement). As a student myself, I want more than that. I want the magic, the philosophy, and to leave feeling inspired and motivated to deepen my understanding or work on myself. I think others likely feel the same.
Many of us come to yoga for the physical aspect…
…but we stay for the magic.
Soon after starting my 200-hour YTT, I learned the meaning of “namaste” and quickly decided not to include it in my practice. Years before, as a student, I heard it used in many classes without explanation. Searching online, I found beautiful poetic translations that left me confused; how could one word translate into an entire poem? My teacher explained that the true meaning is simply “to bow,” nothing more or less. Namaste can be interpreted differently depending on who you ask within the Indian culture because it has become more of a greeting, similar to how we say “hello” in the UK. It suddenly made more sense to say namaste at the start of practice than at the end.
What matters is not whether a person says namaste at the end of their practice or not, in fact some of my own students say it at the end of our practice together. What matters to me as a teacher, is the reason why we might choose to use it in our practice, and this applies to other aspects of yoga as well. I choose instead to honour the lineage I’ve learned from by expressing gratitude for it and all the teachers who came before us at the end of our practice because this feels more genuine and appropriate for my practice and the practice I share with others.
I’m not certain if my process for honouring the traditions of yoga as a white British teacher is right or wrong, but I’m open to learning from feedback. The key thing is that it feels right because I’m constantly learning and sharing what I learn each week with my students, who hopefully deepen their yoga experience and evolve their personal practice.
Main – Photo by Arina Krasnikova
