What is this moment we are living in?
Here’s the view from Detroit as of April 12, 2020:
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Our Black elders are dying. We are reeling from
the shock of the transition of one of our most prominent and beloved patriarchs,
Baba Kilindi Iyi, a few days ago. He was a picture of health and mental
sharpness. While another of our babas was struggling to recover from Covid19 at
home, his mother died. Our Michigan State Representative, tireless 44 year-old social
justice warrior, Isaac Robinson, also died of complications of Covid19. To name
just a few.
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The shelter down the street from us appears
deserted. Where are our houseless “sheltering in place”? Who is keeping count? And how
many residents and staff workers were exposed before the closure?
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The water shut-offs have been suspended. But
many are still waiting to get their water turned back on. We’ve never
understood better what it means to say none are safe until ALL are safe. When
our neighbors are at risk, we are all at risk.
I could go on and on but, hopefully, you get the picture. It
may be a very different picture in your city and neighborhood, but, hate to
say, Detroit has always been ahead of the curve.
Meanwhile, we persist. Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective is teaching
exclusively online, and managing to stay afloat. In some ways, these are glory
days for Iyengar Yoga. With the proliferation of online classes, we have an
unprecedented opportunity to study with teachers across the nation and across
the globe. It’s amazing to have access to so much excellence.
For a price.
One Black colleague, who, herself, got swept up in sampling
Iyengar Yoga worldwide, commented, “It’s become a playground for the white
wealthy.” At first, $15-$30 for a class doesn’t sound exorbitant in the Iyengar
Yoga world. But many of these classes, especially with the “rock stars,” are
attracting 50, 70, 100, or more students at a time. Since the Zoom classroom
has no space limitations, there’s no harm in allowing everyone to enroll. When
a class is so big, however, the teacher loses the ability to see and interact
with each student. They have to scroll through the pages, and all they get are
thumbnails and inadequate camera angles. Individualized feedback is scanty, and
the teacher is either monologuing or busy scrolling and scanning screens. For
the student, it’s more or less the same as a pre-recorded class.
At a lowball $15 a pop and 100 students, that’s $1500 of
income. I don’t begrudge anyone’s need to pay their bills. And like everyone
else, we are still paying rent and utlities on our empty brick and mortar
studio. But can we put this revenue into perspective?
I mean, people are dying in the streets. Cities are using
refrigerated trucks as temporary morgues. If you’re not seeing any of this, it
must be because you do not live in majority Black and Brown cities. Before herd
immunity is established, about half of us must contract Covid19. Working from
home is a luxury, and not feasible for so many, who have now lost all their
income. Low-wage workers are now in highest demand and at highest risk, and
suffering disproportionately.
In the face of all this loss and suffering, I am having a
hard time abiding with what feels like profiteering in the global Iyengar Yoga
community. Resourceful and opportunistic Americans are promoting favorite
international teachers to do online residencies and teach for them. Like
everyone, I’m thrilled and excited at the chance to be in these classes without
having to travel. Then some questions start to arise in me.
All of this is growing out of our hunger for the master
teacher and guide. We’ve lost Guruji. We’ve lost Geetaji. Abhijata is no longer
touring. Manouso is officially de-certified. Who’ve we got?
Is this not a golden opportunity to cultivate the inner teacher?
Do we not already have the books on our shelves, and the mat, blocks, and chair
in the corner? Do we not have the years of study under our yoga belts? Do we
not already have our peers, friends, and colleagues to study with? As an
activist involved in direct action, I used to make the distasteful joke that we
needed to learn yoga so that when we were imprisoned we would still be able to
practice, because all you need is a 2 x 6 foot space for a mat. (When this
lock-down is over, I will no longer be cracking this joke, especially as
Covid19 spreads like wildfire through tightly packed prisons.)
Is this not a golden opportunity to decolonize our minds
from hierarchy and authority and that insatiable hunger for approval and
status? What is it within us that hankers for contact with the latest, most
popular, acclaimed, celebrity figure? Social media has been an incredible
learning tool for Iyengar Yoga. You should see all the posts I have saved on
Instagram for variations of asanas I want to try on a rainy day. I love the
creativity and resourcefulness and playfulness! But social media doesn’t always
reward what is best for us. What if the work my body needs on a particular day
is slow and deep and subtle in ways that cannot be captured on a camera? The media
loves flash and color and music and novelty, and so do I. But it’s not always
what I need, and it may feed a part of me that is already overstimulated and
glutted. It may feed a part of me which is fat-phobic, ageist, and ableist, to
be perfectly honest. Is that how I want to feed my mind and senses?
Now getting back to the $$$ part.
Just as it’s unethical for medical suppliers, food producers
and sellers, and others providing pandemic necessities, to be profiteering, we
all should, instead, be creating ways to make the essential practice of Iyengar
Yoga more and more accessible. Here are some ways of doing that:
1.
Pay teachers hourly. If you want to reward
experience, create a sliding scale from, say $30-$200/hour.
2.
Cap classes at ___# of students if you want to
ensure that students get an analogous experience to the live classroom, and all
are able to be seen and receive individualized instruction (20-25?).
3.
Especially if there is no cap on enrollment,
make all online classes sliding scale/donation. Don’t make low-income students
have to ask for a scholarship, or pay it off with their labor, which is already
underappreciated. They are already beleaguered and marginalized. They should
not have to earn the right to take a class by placing themselves in a
subordinate position. Provide guidance and recommendations on how much to pay
by suggesting a scale such as:
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0-$5 if you are unemployed
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$6-$15 if you are partially employed
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$16-30 if you are financially comfortable
4.
A famous teacher will get hundreds of students. Hosts
should pay the teacher a respectable hourly wage, keep what they need to pay
their bills, and re-allocate the rest of the funds. The famous senior teacher
does not teach to rake in money. Here is a beautiful invitation to create the
interdependent, anti-capitalist society many of us yearn for. Who among your
students is completely out of work? Who is at risk of losing their housing or
healthcare? Who needs groceries? (If you don’t know anyone who is struggling,
it means you have lost touch with the working class, and that your Iyengar Yoga
community has become an enclave of the privileged. What does that bode for us,
and for Iyengar Yoga in the 21st century?) You could also give the
money away to nonprofits and other organizations working on the frontlines of
pandemic care and relief, or to Guruji’s Bellur Trust.
5.
The elephant in every yoga studio in the West
remains the issue of cultural appropriation. Frankly, every practitioner who is
not South Asian is appropriating yoga. The questions are: how are we minimizing
harm? How are we crediting our sources, through our words, actions, and
finances? How are we sharing the subject, rather than exploiting it for
personal benefit, financial and otherwise? What is our relationship to the
practice, to tradition, and to our lineage? How are we evolving the tradition
without discarding or disrespecting it? How do we handle the underlying issues
of caste, and the fact that almost all yoga of the diaspora has come through a
Brahmin lens? Refraining from profiting from yoga is one of many ways we can
repair some of the harm of cultural appropriation.
This is just the beginning of a new way of being in
community, both local and global. Many of us have been saying that we can no
longer go back to the pre-pandemic grind.
A month or more of spatial distancing has given us the space to
appreciate the cleaner air, the chirping birds and wildlife, time reconnecting
with family and elders, and many other benefits, despite the suffering and
irreparable losses of life.
The more holistic, well-rounded way of post-pandemic life
will not just happen. We must create it, and reinforce it over and over again.
Many visionaries, philosophers, social critics, and scientists are saying this
pandemic is a result of capitalism gone amok. So how will we redesign our
economy and lifestyles? Start now. Stop treating yoga as a commodity. Stop
seeking out the silver bullet of a perfect teacher. Cultivate horizontal
relationships, not vertical ones. Throw open the gates and expand your circle.
Open your eyes to what is happening in Black and Brown communities in New York,
New Orleans, and Detroit. Let your heart break open. Step off the treadmill,
now and forever more, and let your conscience guide your next steps. Just as
Guruji redirected his wealth to his home village of Bellur, we can redirect our
resources for the betterment of our communities.
May it be so.
