I bow to the lessor teacher
I’ve noticed a tendency in life at studios and online of this idea that some teachers are more worthy of students, of classes or calling themselves a teacher. This little box has been around since I can remember. We’ve all heard the dismissive tone “oh, that’s not yoga” or “they’re not a real teacher.”
When I started yoga, what seems like a millennia ago at least in digital news cycles, people said restorative yoga and yin yoga weren’t yoga (even well-known national studios that now have such classes and offer such training). Confession, I was also one of those people, I didn’t say it in public, I just didn’t want to do it. Others said, “Hot Yoga isn’t yoga.” Hot yoga was my callisthenic gateway. I was into meditation and philosophy long before I ever associated asana with anything beyond sitting and abiding.
People now say the same of those who teach other things. I am not going to argue some things aren’t an example of capitalism or that others are remotely reminiscent of tradition, or if they are examples of appropriation or if I even think these things go together. What resonates for you? That’s the question.
I am respectful of history, mindful of culture, but also skeptical of claims that assert that one thing is the ultimate truth. I have found through my study both traditional and mainstream, that what things actually are, is subjective.
I think as teachers, we have to be mindful of what we share and where it originates. Hopefully, we pay homage to those who came before us, but we don’t need to throw our filial piety to a teacher or guru without question. Especially, those in the West that argue that things are not what they think they should be. I am the first to defer to someone’s interpretation of their culture, it’s not for me to define what culture is or how others perceive it, but I won’t yield to who or what can be considered a teacher.
I am not discussing philosophy (of which I have based much of my life). I am speaking of semantics and judgment. I believe, if we are a willing student, anyone can teach you.
I’ve seen many deflated and feel unworthy of sharing their passions. That, to me, is a great disservice. I am a forever student and have found learning in a variety of places.
My teacher Mrs. Knepler, in kindergarten taught me the importance of sharing, caring, and play. These things are essential, are they the things that save the world? No, but they are foundational.
You may not be able to teach dwi pada viparita dandasana (upward-facing two-staff), but you can teach someone how to stand in samasthiti. You may not be able to perform tittibasana (firefly pose), but you know how to take a seat in sukhasana. Your pronunciation of Sanskrit might sound like you can’t say banana (I know I felt that way early in my practice) adding additional an-nan-as. You may not be well versed in all the methods of Pranayama, but you know how to lead a person through breath awareness.
Each teacher serves a purpose, a stage in life. Some of us will be lessor teachers, and that’s okay, not everyone needs to be a guruji. Some of us can share our interpretation and give our students free rein to explore on their own terms, according to their values and goals. We just set the stage.
A kindergarten (or year 1) teacher isn’t a great teacher in the context of saving the earth (they may be marvelous and wonderful). However, I guarantee for most people in the West that teacher opened doors and created a foundation for them to make a difference, whether marginal or grandiose. Someone, out in the world that’s doing something to change the world, had a kindergarten teacher.
So, I bow to the lessor teacher because opening doors, lighting fires of inspiration to explore, to be curious, to engage that matters too.
Not everyone is intended to be on a pedestal (more than likely, many who are shouldn’t be). And quite honestly, being closer to the ground is much more comfortable it’s much easier to learn from this location.