What Makes a Serious Teacher or Serious Student?
Despite hosting a podcast called, The Funny Thing About Yoga, where episodes are filled with banter you’d never anticipate hearing on a yoga-related platform, we do take what we do seriously. Bradshaw and I, however, do not take ourselves too seriously. In a time where we are all witnessing wars, surviving a global pandemic, and are continuously inundated with stimulation and media, whenever we can experience silly moments of joy, we take It. Whether It is “stupid talk” as we call It, sending each other ridiculous memes, or talking on the phone multiple times a day about nothing, the truth is connection and humor help us break from the heaviness of everything else. These moments of joy are equally as important to us as our practice, be It yoga or meditation. Both help foster ease and growth and cultivate a sense of peace. We take sharing these moments with others very seriously and we both share them full-time. Be it through our podcast, group classes, workshops, teacher training, or retreats, and yet with all this said, I still tend to ask myself if this makes us “Serious” teachers.
This may be the imposter syndrome writing, but a question I have been asking myself, specifically on a local level, is “Where are the serious teachers?” and conversely, “Where are the serious students?”
My definition of a serious student is someone who is dedicated to their practice and eager to learn. They’re the type of student where you can see their physical advancement as well as witness a mental shift and investment in their learning off the mat. It’s pursuing workshops and further training, reading books about yoga history or philosophy, chatting with the teacher before or after class about practice, or a general investment in their overall wellness and growth. While serious teachers maintain these same qualities, they also provide support, attention, and a level of care for their students and their growth.
During our Live Podcast event (recording), we asked our student-based audience some difficult questions like ‘How can students achieve measurable growth in their practice?” and ‘How can teachers help better serve them?’ The majority of the audience shared preferences that equally liked the supportive teachers who offer options and suggestions, the technical teachers who detail alignment, anatomy, and form, and also the teacher who speaks with authority, command, and discipline. Everything was overwhelmingly positive and varying teaching methodologies were celebrated. And while I understand people have different learning styles that will dictate these preferences, I felt like something was missing.
After being away from Chicago for a year and recently returning, I am witnessing my students struggle with the same physical challenges that they had before I left. In a time of multiple options with teachers and studios, online platforms, or even other movement modalities, I wonder if this is the reason for a disconnect. I also see a shift in the way students receive guidance and sometimes I can observe a lack of awareness or care. But rather than point a finger at the student, I have been looking deeper inside myself and my teachings for the answers. Hence my very first question of self-doubt.
I keep thinking back to what inspired me to take my practice more seriously and besides the grief or heartache that led me to it, It was the measurable progress I felt in the physical practice and the concurrent mental benefits. I came for the crow pose, but I stayed for the clarity. So if the “serious” student doesn’t exist in my local community, I am presented with a prime opportunity to inspire one.
For some students getting out of their head for an hour a day is all that they want. With all that’s going on in the world, who cares if their backs are rounded in half lift or if their Chaturanga looks weak? This is valid and while I respect and honor whatever intention someone brings to the room, I also hold the responsibility of caring for and inspiring the students in front of me. So when I see repeat attendance and limited progress, I want to help reduce the potential for injury or soreness AND ALSO inspire the type of growth detailed above. Physical improvements and bodily awareness help to honor and connect one to oneself. This is just one of the several tools the yoga practice cultivates and there are many branches that offshoot from here. The more benefits we excavate from the practice, the more a student may feel inspired and equipped with the tools to take off their mat and into the real world. A serious student will have the tools to take home and continue putting to use.
Right now, I feel inspired to give my students my all. Since returning to Chicago and setting up my life to look differently, I have been mindful to not burn out again. I am taking good care of myself so that I can provide a deeper level of care for others. Sharing this inspiration with Bradshaw has proven to be infectious. We’re both bringing a new spark of passion to our classes and waking up from autopilot. When you teach 15 + classes a week it’s easy to be on cruise control with the routine: showing up, doing what you need to do, going home, getting paid. There is no time for yourself let alone to endure a greater energy output needed to foster this type of growth. We hope that this new sense of inspiration will help us wake up our students, as well. The practice is so much more than something to check off the to-do list or tune out for an hour.
It can be a moment of joy, a way to foster ease and growth, and even help cultivate a sense of peace. And in our classes, we know we can do all this and also make you laugh a little bit.
So what makes a serious student or a serious teacher?
I don’t fully know. But, I am investing deeper into my offerings, and with an open mind, I am observing and learning and figuring It out as I go….