This week, I got an email from a student who is enrolled in the teacher training program. The student said she is interested in working with teenagers, bless her heart, and she asked if she could observe my class to see how it's done. (I'm not joking! This really happened.)

At first, I was completely dumbfounded. I haven't been doing this long really, and I wouldn't consider myself an expert by any stretch of the imagination. Next, I was flattered. I am embarking upon my second year of teaching in the next couple of months. I guess I might know a few things this student doesn't. But those feelings were quickly replaced by sheer and utter terror. What if I mess up in front of her? What if I set a bad example? What if she writes down everything little thing I do, and shares it with her class so they can pick it apart . . . pointing out all the things I could have done better? (I've been through teacher training. I know what it can be like.)

Ultimately, I decided not to be a wuss. I'm proud of what I do. And I know I've grown leaps and bounds as a teacher in the last year. So what if I mess up? There's value in seeing a teacher mess up when you're in teacher training, right? I know I still feel a little tinge of validation when I hear one of my senior teachers tell me to bend my foot instead of my knee. I told the student I'd love to have her! And I meant it, too . . . eventually.

I admit it was intimidating at first to have someone watching, taking up her pencil and notebook between Downward Dogs. But it was nice to have a little extra grown-up support, too. When I went to help one girl, a girl on the other side of the room could ask the teacher trainee for help. Most of all, it was an amazing reminder of how far I've come since I sheepishly entered one of my own teacher's classes as an observer for the first time. What a rewarding experience!

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 05:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

The class I taught this week seemed like a success. Besides a few mis-spoken words, it went pretty smoothly. There were no loud outbursts. If anyone rolled their eyes, I didn't notice. And the sequencing seemed to be well-received. So when class was over I gathered my belongings with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.

But looks can be deceiving, I suppose. When I walked outside of the studio one of my students was waiting on me—and she didn't look particularly pleased. "I'm so happy you made it to class today!" I said with a hopeful smile.

Her response was more or less a list of grievances—a very long list. She poses I teach are too hard. She gets a headache during class. And, frankly, she's only coming because her mom is making her.

How's that for honesty? Ouch!

At first, this hurt my feelings. But as I gave it more thought, I realized what a brave act it was for this young girl to confront her teacher with issues that were bothering her. She should be applauded for bringing this to my attention. If the class isn't benefiting her, I need to know about it. Maybe I should offer more modifications or give more personalized instructions for different bodies. (Of course, this is easier said than done. I am who I am, and there's a limit to my knowledge and how much attention I can give one student in a group class.)

If that doesn't help, maybe I should just accept that my teaching style won't be everybody's cup of tea . . . and hope she can find a class, and a teacher, that meets her needs.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 11:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

A couple of days ago I woke up with a scratchy throat and a bad feeling that I was coming down with a cold. This is never good news, but it is even worse if you know you have to teach in a few hours. There are a million arguments for not showing up to teach a yoga class when you're under the weather. Of course, there is the concern of spreading germs. Then, there's my personal dedication to embodying what I teach—and how can I really say to my students, "Slow down and take care of yourself," when I show up to teach sniffling and sneezing. Realistically, though, I knew it was too late for me to find a sub. I had two choices: cancel class at the last minute or put my game face on and teach to the best of my ability without hands-on adjustments.

It was the first class I had the opportunity to teach since my studio closed for the holidays, so I opted to teach. It was the only time I'd hoped for a small turn-out. Naturally, it was my biggest class ever. I had four brand new students—two who showed up alone, and two who were friends of my regular students. (One of them even brought her big sister who was visiting from college!)

I knew I had made the right decision when a number of my students wanted to chat after class. This was the first time I had ever been approached after class by any of the girls with anything other than questions about how much they owed for the class.

It didn't cure my cold, but it definitely warmed my heart.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)