I'm having a crisis. One of my most loyal students has recently been missing my classes. I don't know whether to assume she's had a busy few weeks or go into total panic-mode.

I don't have many students, so I get the know the ones I have really well. I know when they go back to school after their summer break. I know which ones take dance and piano classes. They tell me things in the time before and after class. Most importantly, they usually tell me when they plan to go away on vacation or have other things to do that will hinder them from attending my class. (I appreciate this because it saves me a lot of trauma, wondering if they'll ever come back.)

My rational brain knows that if a student quits coming to my class, it likely isn't because of me. There are a million things going on in people's lives that don't involve me (Take that, Ego!) or yoga. I miss classes with my favorite teachers all the time because I didn't feel like getting out of bed, had too much work to do, had a dentist appointment, forgot my mat at home, or just wasn't in the mood, etc. etc.

So why do I find myself lying awake at night thinking: "Maybe she didn't like the music I played. No, that's not it. She hated the partner poses? No, those were fun! Did I correct her alignment too much? I was just trying to keep her safe! Did I pay more attention to my new students than her?"

Then, I spend a lot of time strategically planning how to lure her back in. "I could call her mom to make sure everything is OK. No, that might be a little too stalker-like. I could email her and let her know how much I miss her. Would that be weird after three weeks? Yes, and would seem way too desperate."

I know I should let it go after one short, sweet email, but this is not an easy task for me. How can I continue to care for my students' well-being and personal development, but avoid getting too attached to them at the same time?

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 06:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I've always thought of myself as an open-minded, understanding person. I don't go into shock when people don't agree with me. I can have an amicable conversation with people differing opinions about politics, religion, and other hot-button issues without getting angry. I even feel compassion for George W. when he embarrasses himself (and the country) by saying something incredibly stupid while attempting to give a speech.

This week, I found out that I'm not so tolerant when it comes to yoga.

I went to a hot yoga class for the first time over the weekend. I was excited to try out a new yoga style—get a new perspective. I knew the 105-degree temperature would make me cranky, but I was shocked to find just how quickly cranky can turn into rage. Anger boiled up inside me at an alarming rate while the instructor coached people to "lock the knees" and "push harder, go further!" I contemplated leaving when the instructor looked at a student who was struggling and said, "I see that you're feeling pain, my friend. That's normal when you're learning this pose." I was appalled.

Now that I've had some time to cool off (literally), I realize my reaction was a little extreme. I've made tons of teaching mistakes, and I would feel just awful if I knew another teacher were taking my class—judging my every word. The teacher, despite being a little (or maybe a lot) misguided, had good intentions for his students. And my anger didn't help anything or anyone. Am I taking myself, and my yoga, too seriously? Or was I right to be really, really concerned that a lot of beginning yoga students left that class thinking that it's OK to hurt during yoga?

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 06:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (27) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the most difficult things about teaching beginning yoga students (especially if they're teenage beginning yoga students) is striking the right balance between offering adjustments and allowing them to experience the poses fully.

When I was a beginner, I abhorred being called out for an alignment mistake. It was embarrassing, and I felt like I had done something wrong. With that in mind, I've been really careful not to do too much of that to my students. I wait until a new student has taken at least a couple of classes with me before I offer adjustments (unless, of course, they're doing something that could potentially harm them). I also find myself preaching over and over again how my adjustments are meant to take them deeper or increase their awareness in the pose, not to fix them.

I'm happy to report that I've discovered a savvy (if I do say so myself!), beginner-friendly way of adjusting my students without making them feel like they've been naughty.

Let's say I want Student A to relax her shoulders, but Student A is new and I don't want to make her feel bad. Instead of saying, "Student A, relax your shoulders," I can scan the room to find someone who is nice and relaxed, we'll call her Student B. I say, "Student B, I love how your relaxing your shoulders away from your ears! Everybody, make sure your shoulders are soft and relaxed." It's a win-win because Student B gets praised for doing something she's doing well, and Student A gets a verbal adjustment without everyone in the class knowing she needs it.

I've been experimenting with this method in my classes, and it worked like a charm. I'm hoping that focusing on the positive, my students will quickly gain confidence and become more comfortable. This is why I love teaching. It's like a really big, on-going experiment. You try one thing for a while, then assess how it worked. Then you try something else.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 11:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the most astonishing parts of being in a beautiful setting, couped up with strangers you don't know from 8-5, is that you learn so much about your yoga teacher colleagues than you would if they were simply teaching classes at the same studio. I was as inspired by the beautiful women in my group (and the ways they're reaching all kinds of teenagers) as I was by the material we were taught, so I thought I'd share with you some of their stories and all the wonderful ways they're sharing their yoga with the world:

Molly and I spent more like 24 hours together a day during the trip because we decided to split our hotel and car expenses for the trip so I have to start with her. As tourists, we did a lot of driving around and gawking at all the huge, gated homes, and searching (to no avail) for Jessica Simpson. She's a Cincinnati girl whose passion is working with teenage criminals living in a detention center. Beneath her sweetness and soft demeanor, you can tell that she's up for the challenge of working in the horrible, heart-wrenching conditions of a prison. She also, planned and executed a "yoga camp" for children over the summer. My heart swells with gratitude when I think about all the lives that she has touched through yoga.

Marnie, "like the big, purple dinosaur but with an M," is one of two token school teachers. This was a big help since we were learning about how to bring yoga into school systems, which are ripe with bureaucracy and burn-out. She already utilizes yoga tools in her classroom of 3rd graders, so she had a lot of information to share. Her aspiration is as big and admirable as her personality—she hopes to open a school of her own that includes yoga as part of the curriculum. She wants to, as she puts it, "Serve children that are financially rich, but emotionally starved."

And then there was Nikki. I was particularly touched by Nikki because in our first introductory session she spoke about how she hoped to bring a greater health awareness to her son and into her son's school. (A private school that refuses to offer healthy choices at it's snack bar.) She is one of the most fun, free-spirited women I've met in the yoga community. When she packed her things to leave us on the last day of the training, she put her arms around me and another younger woman in the training and advised us to have fun being young and single "Don't worry about it!," she said. This is why I know she is going to be an amazing teacher for high school students.

It never ceases to amaze me when I hear about all the creative and meaningful ways people find use their yoga. The world is a better place because of these women and the love and care they put out into the world with each breath.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 08:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

My biggest "Ah ha!" moment during my recent yoga retreat/continuing education for yoga teachers came as I was preparing my practice class. This was the time when I was supposed to cobble together some of the new things I'd learned—games, poses, imagery, stories, metaphors, etc.—to create my own lesson plan and practice teaching it in front of my colleagues. A couple of my new friends had already gotten in front of the class and taken a stab at it. Every few minutes, Leah Kalish, our lovely and talented teacher, would stop the group in our tracks and give guidance—in front of everyone "so we could all learn from it."

This format made me very nervous. My stomach was in knots by the time we took our first break of the day because I knew my turn was coming. I'm insecure when I teach in front of my own small class of beginning students, so the pressure of performing in front of teachers who would know when I mess up was a lot to handle. I walked into the next room and took a really deep breath. I think Leah could tell I was on the verge of having an anxiety attack, so she came over to chat.

I can't remember her exact words, but the gist of it was that she gets nervous too. Leah was a Hollywood actress before she became a yoga teacher. (A google search reveals she had roles in shows like Walker, Texas Ranger and Who's the Boss?) She never got nervous acting in front of the cameras or crowds of people, but the second she got in front of a yoga class it was a different story.

She continued: We put teachers on a pedestal because they've touched us in such a meaningful way. So when we take on the role of teacher, we think we have to live up to that. That's enough pressure to make anyone nervous, and nervous teachers make for awkward yoga classes. But if we can just let go of that expectation, we're able to explore, interact, and grow with our students. This opportunity for exploration and growth is precisely what we want to give to our students. All we have to do as teachers, is embody what we want to teach and the rest will fall into place naturally.

That's when it hit me! The students who have been coming to my classes really are being affected by how I hold myself in class. When my students are a little shy, quiet, and timid it's probably because that's what I portray when I teach. I wondered if I tried to portray something stronger, bolder, and more courageous would they feel more safe to be themselves, too?

When it was my turn, I got in front of my peers to teach. I started with a time in, a short, guided meditation. I led the group in a visualization that came from my heart. I asked my "students" to envision themselves standing on the edge of a diving board,with their toes hanging off the edge. "Feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. As you contemplate jumping, watch your friends splashing and playing in the water below. Put your fears out of your mind for just long enough let gravity take you to the pool, you'll be able to join your friends."As I was speaking, I took the plunge too. My butterflies fluttered away, and for the first time I was able to actually be myself (in all my glory) as I led them through a sequence of poses.

When I was done, Leah looked at me and said, "You were that shy kid, weren't you?" In may ways, I still am.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I showed up at LAX at 7:30 a.m. and caught a shuttle through the winding roads in the Bel Air hills to the most beautiful property I have ever laid eyes on. I argued with the shuttle driver a bit ("Seriously, it's supposed to be a yoga studio, not a mansion") but he insisted this is the address I have written on the note in my hand. As the shuttle drives away, I panic. I was certain I was going to end up in jail for trespassing at the Aaron Spelling estate, which would make for a pretty funny story later but a really crappy way to begin a five-day yoga training. I walked toward the gardener (yes, really!) and politely asked him if this could possibly be the Yoga Ed studio. He pointed toward a window where I could see a group of women sitting in a circle on the floor. This was a far more familiar sight so I tentatively open the door. This was the beginning of my five-day initiation into the world of teaching—actually teaching yoga.

As you know, I've been "teaching" yoga to teenagers for a while now. But until my training last week, I've thought of teaching as calling out pose names, offering modifications, and making sure everyone stays safe. Don't get me wrong, this is a perfectly good approach to teaching most classes, but it's not always enough. Through the Yoga Ed program I've realized how much more compelling and fun yoga can really be through incorporating music, dance, laughter, community, discussion, visual aids, and even games. This covers all of my bases so that no matter what kind of learner my students are, I'll have a way to reach them, and bring them into their bodies. And the best part of it all, is that they won't even realize they're working they'll be so engaged.

Teaching this way is so much fun I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to the boring, old way of thinking about it again.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 07:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)