Defining "Yoga" in Schools is not as easy as you might think.

Controversy over yoga

My grandmother showing off her flexibility before yoga was a thing.

My grandmother showing off her flexibility before yoga was a thing.

When my grandmother started teaching yoga back in the '60s, her church was concerned. They didn't understand how one of their own, a devout Methodist, could turn to the devil's work. My grandmother was undaunted. "It's just breathing and stretching," she would tell them, "there's nothing heretical about breathing and stretching."

The controversy around yoga is not new, but continues to resurface as the practice spreads to secular settings. Recently it came under fire at a school in Georgia, where fear of crystals, the word namaste, and bringing hands together at heart center left parents in an uproar. A March 24 headline in the Washington Post read, "Ga. parents, offended by the 'Far East Religion' of yoga, get 'namaste' banned from school." The school apologized for the misunderstanding, and agreed to stop using the word namaste and "prayer position" with the hands, though denied claims crystals were being used. It is notable that they are not backing away from the program. Calming and relaxation techniques are benefiting students and schools, and schools don't want to give these up because of misguided fears from parents.

This was not the first time, nor will it be the last, that yoga and mindfulness programs in schools are challenged. Last year in Encinitas, California, a group of parents brought a case to court arguing yoga in school violated separation of church of state rules. The outcome?  "California Appeals Court Rules Yoga Doesn't Violate Religious Freedom."

It is clear that while yoga may be practiced for religious reasons, it cannot be said to be inherently religious or overtly sectarian,’ the court said in a ruling on Friday.
— The Wall Street Journal

Yoga's Shifting Definition

Part of the confusion may lie with the fact that the word yoga has gone through its own identity crisis over the years, and the way it is often understood in the West is a far cry from what Pantanjali meant when he wrote it down the Yoga Sutras in the 2nd century BCE. As explored in an Elephant Journal article, yoga was an eight point plan meant to overcome physical manifestation and the cycle of rebirth, and is said to mean "yoke" or "union."  Only one of those points, or limbs as it was called, was about the physical posture, known as asana. That is the same Sanksrit word we see tacked on at the end of all our various postures today: Virabhadrasana, Adho Muhka Svanasana, Savasana. But originally, it meant seated posture, or the posture one took when meditating. Only a little later on— 1600-1900 years later— did yoga even start to talk about specific postures one could take, and none of them included the kind of sun salutation, warrior, nor down dog that are foundational to the yoga we practice today.

In sum, the religious roots of the word yoga have very little to do with the crazy modern sweat-inducing movement based "yoga" we practice in the West.

QUESTION: So then where does our modern "yoga" come from?

ANSWER: Scandinavian Gymnastics.

Say what?

According to Mark Singleton, who explored this question in his article, The Roots of Yoga: Ancient + Modern, in the early 20th century there was a rise in concern over strength and agility connected to greater social-political movements, and suddenly they were blending wrestling, gymnastics, and strength training into yoga. A physically rigorous practice was used by some of the more hip-to-it yoga gurus at the time to try and capture the hearts, minds, and bodies of the younger generation. Thus, many of the yoga postures of today are actually part of an exercise routine developed in the 1900s.

Where does that leave us?

We need to be very clear about what we mean when we say we are offering "yoga" in schools. 

When Little Flower Yoga, one of the top yoga-for-kids training programs in the country, talks about their program, they break it down into, "Connect, Breathe, Move, Focus, and Relax." They talk about the physical, mental, emotional, and attentional benefits. These are all words we can presumably get behind, and want, for our kids. There is nothing that talks about spiritual ascendence or resembles religious indoctrination. And that's because this "yoga" is a different "yoga" than that which Pantanjali originally wrote about.

When I started teaching yoga to high school students at Baxter Academy, a STEM school in Portland Maine, I did teach my students a little bit about the history of yoga. I wanted them to understand the greater context of the physical practice we were engaging in to open our bodies and calm our minds. As part of my "yoga" teaching, we put our phones away and invite our attention into the present moment, rather than getting caught up in the worries of yesterday or what is yet to come. We start with the sound of a chime, listening for the end of the sound to focus the mind. We move, and breathe, and stabilize. We notice sensations as they arise in the body and see if we can stay with discomfort. At the end, we relax our whole bodies before we again rise to re-begin our days, hopefully with more awareness. This is the yoga I bring to schools. 

After this first week, the students had this to say:

As a performer, I’ve always needed a way to relax before going on stage...before a show I did some of the moves you taught us and it was great.
— 10th grader
I often get stressed very easily so I have learned to stop and take a minute for myself. I have found myself over the last few days doing the motions we often do after or between a pose.
— 11th grader
I feel that this class and this exercise makes for a less stressful day.
— 10th grader

This is after just one week of practice from students who are new to yoga. Their anecdotal experiences about stress relief are just starting to be backed by research into this new field, and it will take some time for us to know the extent of yoga's usefulness to students.

In the meantime, it's on us to be clear about what we mean when we say yoga, since we have dramatically shifted away from the origins of the word. We also need to continue to look at what is actually happening in the classroom, as opposed to relying on the historical connotations and new age symbolism with which the word has been loaded down. In this way, we can best come to a common definition, and hopefully avoid some of the fears of parents who understandably do not know what is actually happening with their children when they are practicing "yoga."

Deering High School Shares the Love

Card signed by Deering HS mindfulness students

Card signed by Deering HS mindfulness students

It has been a few months since my last day at Deering High School, and I had the pleasure of being treated to chocolate mousse by the teacher I worked closely with when there. In addition to the delicious cake, she brought other sweetness in the form of a thank you card from the students and her evaluation.

I wrote a blog post recently for Mindful Schools about the importance of trust when working with mindfulness- trusting our practice to support us and trusting our students to take what they need from the practice. We can't always see the impact of our work. We aren't always so lucky to get feedback from our participants, and so after prepping and delivering lessons, there is a certain level of letting go we have to do in order to maintain our own peace of mind. 

This makes it especially important when we do get positive feedback to really experience it. To try it on and walk around in it for awhile. To roll around in it. To savor it. After all, our brains are wired to remember the negative more than the positive (a little something science likes to call the negativity bias), so we have to work to really experience those moments of light. 

In this spirit, a few comments I will hold close:

"Thank you so much Erica! You helped more than you know!" - Nate

"Erica, I'll really miss you... please do keep in touch. Keep us sane for the remainder of the school year! Due love." - Madlien 

And from the teacher:

"Erica, our trainer, had just the right presence for teaching mindfulness.  She was calm and personable with some very hard to reach students."

"The lessons were tailored nicely to the students' needs and developmentally appropriate...simple, yet they addressed serious topics with depth and relevancy. Students sometimes talked about a lesson long after it was taught, showing that they really internalized the skill and are maintaining somewhat of a practice."

"I just want to share my gratitude for a time well spent learning a much needed skill for all of us."

Thank you for sharing, Tracey. The cake, card, and evaluation were a much appreciated boost.

Newburyport Wellness Day: Stage Fright Revisted

2001 Graduation from Newburyport High School- I'm the front left.

2001 Graduation from Newburyport High School- I'm the front left.

As a young student in grade school, I could not get up and speak in front of people without incapacitating fear. I wrote an entire speech in high school on, "How to look ridiculously nervous while public speaking," and illustrated it perfectly with my strained shaky voice and nervous laughter. I avoided the stage as much as possible, and performed only in large musical groups where I could hide behind others. But today I stood twice in front of over 150 adults and shared what I had learned about mindfulness.

Today I went down to Newburyport, Massachusetts to deliver two keynote addresses and lead four breakout workshops in the very school district from which I graduated fifteen years ago. It was a surreal experience to stand in front of a stage where I sang a Pocahontas medley and played orchestral pieces with my middle school classmates. Even more, to have an auditorium filled with past classmates and teachers of mine. My favorite math teacher, Mark Littlefield, was there, and we commiserated on students' addiction to cell phones. My favorite English teacher, Debbie Szabo, introduced me and delighted in learning something from one of her former students. My middle school math teacher in one of my breakout sessions said she remembered my face from 21 years ago. It was an honor to be able to offer something back to these educators who helped shape me. And still...

I will not deny that for the first 10 minutes of my first keynote address, I was shaking in my boots. Literally, my legs were vibrating as I had everyone arrive in their bodies. But I used that nervousness to share more about the nuances of mindfulness. I explained that we could notice internal cues in our bodies, like my shaky voice and fluttering heart, which was a result of my nerves. I shared that mindfulness does not necessarily rid us of uncomfortable emotions, but does help us be more comfortable in the discomfort. We don't necessarily get rid of our foibles with mindfulness, but we can be with them more gently. 

And so, by not denying or fighting my anxious energy, but acknowledging and embracing it, I found it dissipated on its own accord. And for the rest of the day, through four break out sessions and a second keynote, I felt a greater sense of ease and lightness. This is what the practice offered me today: alleviation from the added suffering I heap on to challenging experiences, space to honor what was, rather than needing it to be different, and trust that the emotion would subside when it was ready. 

So I hope the teachers of Newburyport gained a deeper understanding mindfulness today. I hope they understand that it does not eliminate thoughts and emotions, but brings us more clarity around them. It is a tool that takes a long time to develop, but ultimately bears fruit that is worthwhile. It allows a woman who was terrified of presenting anything in front of any size audience to return to her old school and speak openly about her passion. 

For more information on the wellness day, please see the article in the Current, "Newburyport Teachers to Host Professional Development Day."

 

 

The REAL School Student Evaluations

Teaching mindfulness to students at the REAL School was not always a simple task. For students who had not been successful in traditional settings, there is an extra layer of wariness towards weird strangers telling them to focus on their breath. They seemed on edge, like they feel unsafe. Over the course of the eight weeks I spent with them, I saw some cracks in their facades. They occasionally would offer an insight into their experience or agree to read a line of a poem we were dissecting.

When the eight weeks came to a close, we ended with a beach pebble ceremony, each taking one as our anchor and sharing one thing we would leave with. I told them the one thing I hoped they remember is that we have more control and freedom than we often think we do. And that freedom comes from noticing what is going on for us. I told them just the night before, I was feeling really angry, and I decided I was going to eat pizza and watch bad television. I told them that mindfulness doesn't always mean we choose something healthy or sit with our emotions every moment as they arise. Sometimes, it means we notice those strong feelings come up, and we choose to not deal with them right then. Sometimes, it means we eat pizza and watch bad television, and reinvestigate the emotions the next day when we're ready (as I did on a walk to the water the next morning). But we choose that, instead of falling into it without awareness. 

When I collected the feedback from students, I was pleased to see that many of them found it useful. Many of them had ideas about how it had or could help them in their lives. Even if they wouldn't share it in front of their peers, many of them saw the control and freedom it offered. 

Staff also had a positive response to mindfulness, 100% of whom enjoyed learning about mindfulness, thought it could help them in their own lives, and thought more students should learn about mindfulness. Some of their reports:

"I love using it to try and fall asleep at night and to unwind after school."

"...practice daily, incorporate mindfulness into walks, and help with inability to sleep."

"When I'm overwhelmed, I benefit from the breath exercise." When I'm angry, the straight spine and feet on the ground posture helps me regain my composure."

"Wonderful tool. Great way to live. Thank you for your courage and generosity."

Ocean Avenue Elementary Professional Development

I have been coming to Ocean Avenue elementary for awhile now, substitute teaching across the grades and serving as a support person for students with special needs. The staff have always been welcoming, and the culture of the school is warm and inviting. Thus, I was thrilled when I had the opportunity to present to the staff about mindfulness. 

I am always struck how the energy of an entire room seems to settle as we walk our way through various activities with body, listening, and breath. When I called for folks to share about things they feel grateful for, their answers filled through room with hope. I found myself with an idiot smile plastered to my face, overjoyed to facilitate this moment for folks who I witnessed working so hard day in and day out.

While brief, an hour of mindfulness was enough to offer a taste of the benefits of learning how to pay more attention.  When I came back to sub the next day, a teacher cornered me in the hallway, "That was the best professional development we've had," she confided.  I'm so glad.


WCSH 6 covers local yoga and mindfulness programs

The work I've been doing at the REAL School on Mackworth Island was briefly featured on WCSH 6 last night, sandwiched between some adorable shots of toddlers trying to do yoga. While I wish some of the language I used in our interview had been incorporated into the story, perhaps it will at least pique people's curiosity. These is so much depth to this practice that is challenging to capture in a short news clip. 

Feel free to check it out under the headline, "Should Schools Teach Children How to Meditate?"

The importance of personal retreat

Pain, right shoulder blade, excruciating. 

The pain in my right shoulder blade was almost immediate when I sat down. As I sat in stillness, I wondered about where it arose from. Did I hurt myself?  Was it from the two and half hour drive getting to the retreat center? Was it ever going to go away?

This was the beginning of a five day silent meditation retreat I attended over school vacation. I didn't have any particular goals for the time beyond strengthening my own personal practice. I was unprepared for the intensity of the experience from the first moments of beginning.

After the second day of sitting with this pain, I began to get angry at it. What the hell?  I'm healthy. I take good care of you. What's wrong with you? Can't you give me one moment of relief? As the anger built, I found myself grow more rigid in my seat. More upright. Taller. Holding on against the pain. Gritting my teeth in frustration as it intensified. 

By the third day, I was so frustrated I was nearly in tears. I dreaded coming to sit for the forty-five minute periods the community came together. When the pain came up, I started panicking. I fantasized again and again about getting up and leaving. I stretched aggressively to the left and right in desperation to escape it. And still, it persisted. 

On this day, we were allowed one group Q & A with a particular teacher. Oren Sofer, who teaches with Mindful Schools, was one of the teachers of this retreat. I came to him with a question about the panic, which was arising alongside the pain. He told me I could consider skipping some of the shorter sits and use that time for walking meditation, which I preferred (and didn't find painful). And he said this: Be gentle. Be gentle with it.

As I went on my first walk-instead of-sit, I cried tears of relief. I didn't have to force it. I was given permission to back off.  

From that moment on, I felt something shift inside. Not the pain. The pain was still there. But how I approached the pain. I began to really notice the pain. Notice that when I breathed in it lessened slightly. Notice that there was an occasional breath when it was completely gone. I noticed that if a subtly shifted my weight to the left hip, sometimes it would ease the intensity. I began to imagine it being hugged from all sides. I let go of my judgments about the cheesiness of this and said to it: It's okay. I hear you. I know you're uncomfortable. I'm here. 

And I felt different. I felt like I could come to sit without the fear. I could be comfortable with the discomfort. And it translated into other parts of my being. My yoga practice shifted. Whereas I was in the habit of ignoring minor aches that arose in a typical practice, I began responding to them and backing off. I slowed my movements and really took note of how it felt in different parts of my body. I looked at how I was trying to force myself to be okay with recent events in my life and my responses to those events. Could I be okay with the being upset? Or could I at least be okay with the disappointment of being upset? Was there some level at which I could let go of the judgement and be okay with whatever was?

Translation to the classroom: We are capable of being uncomfortable.

The Thursday before I left for my retreat, three boys walked out of the classroom at the alternative high school where I was working in week 6 of curriculum. When questioned by a teacher, they cited that they thought it was "hippie b******" and didn't want to go anymore. I asked to speak with them after they returned to the class, but they refused.

Before I came to the classroom today, I asked the teachers to ask everyone to stay for just two minutes of time. When I got there, I wasn't sure what would happen. I thanked them for being there, and told them the story of the silent retreat. "Sounds sh*tty" one student responded. "Yes," I replied, "It was." 

I told them I was sharing that story because I saw how I was asking some of them to do something that was uncomfortable. That they thought was dumb, maybe. And that I didn't need them to like me, or like mindfulness, but I hoped that they would try and be uncomfortable for that time. I told them that I asked this of them because I could sit for five days in pain, and the only difference between me and them was more practice, so I thought they could handle the twenty minutes, no matter how rotten. I told them they could choose to stay or leave, it was up to them, but I hoped they would choose to stay and try it. Because sitting with it has power by showing us how we can stay with those crappier moments in life.

Then I paused...

And no one moved.

So I began the lesson.

The power of personal retreat

In the end, this retreat was even more powerful than I imagined. It didn't just give me access to a deeper insight or knowing through the experience of being with my own discomfort. No, it also translated to the classroom, and allowed me to connect my students to this crucial insight. I sat those five days for myself, yes, but I also sat them for those boys, who maybe needed that reminder that they could do it, even if it was hard.

Heronfield Academy, Meet Mindfulness!

The Heronfield campus is an old converted horse farm that has rustic charm.

The Heronfield campus is an old converted horse farm that has rustic charm.

On Monday and Tuesday this week, I had the opportunity to meet with the welcoming students and staff of Heronfield Academy, a small middle school nestled away in Hampton Falls, NH. I joined the staff on Monday afternoon for an hour introduction to the practice and scientific basis for mindfulness. Through a study in Buddhism, many students had already been introduced to meditation. Flanking a round table, the staff talked about how it felt to sit with an attention anchor, like sound or our breath, for short periods of time. We also explored the usefulness of offering these practices to the students. As a former middle school teacher, I have witnessed the importance of giving this age group tools to stay present for their lives.

 

On Tuesday morning, I led a twenty minute community meeting in which the 83 students, staff, and I explored the experience of sitting with an anchor. A couple of brave students admitted they felt weird, and many noted they felt calm. One teacher how she noticed she was congratulating herself on doing a "good job" when she was able to follow her breath. 

I am always awed by a room full of people sitting in silence. Even in one minute you can feel the energy of the room shift. It was a beautiful quiet that morning on the farm. I am so grateful to have shared the space with these young people and the staff that nurture them.

Stories from the Field, Part VIII, Saying goodbye

I didn't expect today to be emotional for me. But when I finally had all of my students sitting  in a circle, I found a lump forming in my throat. I started by thanking them for investing whatever they could at that time and being willing to try out the experience. Then, I handed over a new bell to their teacher, Tracey Menard, so the class could practice mindfulness in my absence. She led us through one minute of light mindfulness, which drew some giggles from the class. I told them I would send along a script so they could take turns leading one another.

A week earlier, I scoured the snowy beach for smooth rocks to give as worry stones. I wanted them to have a physical anchor to remind them of the mindfulness practice. As they pulled the rock from the bucket, they each shared a takeaway from the course. Things like, "pausing when I am stressed...noticing my emotions...taking a breath...paying attention." The real depth came in the course evaluations. There, they shared how important the practice had become to them: 

"I use mindfulness when I’m having a bad day. I use what I’ve learned in this class. Mostly being aware of my surroundings."

"I think I can use it to help with my anxiety because I struggle with it a lot."

"I am really thankful for you teaching me about mindfulness because I really run away from my problems and now I can just stop and breath and think about what I do, so thank you so much."

"I really enjoyed it. The past month or so has been so tough with me ...and every Tuesday and Thursday when you come in, I really like forward to it because it makes me feel 10 times better."

I created an infographic to share some of the highlights from the evaluation below:

Not everything was positive. There are those three students who did not connect with the practice, and one who had concerns about my delivery. It has always been hard for me as a teacher, especially back when I was in the classroom, to let go of those "failures."  It's hard to hear the tough feedback without blaming myself or making the whole experience about the few students with whom I did not connect. But part of my work has been to allow myself to really soak in the good and hear the critical without drowning in it. So I continue my own practice. 

At the end of the day, there were so many sweet stories shared, and as I exited Ms. Menard's classroom to Adele's "Hello," with students singing me out from various corners of the room, I couldn't help but feel the love. I can't help but feel the love.

Update: Portland Public Schools posted about our work on their website in a post "DHS STUDENTS LEARN ‘MINDFULNESS,’ SHARE IT WITH OTHER STUDENTS"