To address questions of cultural appropriation in yoga, it is essential to acknowledge that my perspective is influenced by my personal experiences, education, and background. While my response may be limited by these factors, my aim is to approach the topic with sensitivity and a commitment to learning and understanding, prioritizing the principle of doing no harm and listening more than speaking.
In my view, nearly every vinyasa class contains elements of cultural appropriation to some degree. This can manifest through practices such as chanting mantras, wearing bindis or saris, and sporting Sanskrit tattoos. These actions often stem from admiration but can be problematic if they lack a deep understanding and respect for their cultural significance. For example, chanting mantras without knowing their meanings or origins can reduce these sacred practices to mere performance, stripping them of their spiritual value. In fact, embarrassingly I did not know that “Shree Ram, Jai Ram’s” meaning has been tainted as a political call to attack Muslims- though I do not chant in classes I have relayed this to all staff at my studio, as they were unaware as well. I do believe on the whole instead of outright condemning many of these practices (aside from the aforementioned), I strive to understand the intentions behind them. this approach is not about being complicit but about fostering a space for dialogue and growth as I am both a studio owner and teacher I try to remain close to staff so they understand our job is to serve the student and the practice.
Yoga’s origins are deeply rooted in diverse cultures (including the Indus Valley modern-day Pakistan,; North Africa, and China), influences, and belief systems, and its evolution has been shaped by the various social and political contexts in which it has been practiced. It is important to recognize that the modern practice of yoga is a culmination of contributions from many cultures, and to claim a singular “birthplace” disregards this rich tapestry.
Most yoga teachers in the West are certified with a 200-hour Registered Yoga Teacher (RYT) credential, which equips them to lead movement-based classes. However, the incorporation of mantras, quotes from Rumi or Hafiz, and references to texts like the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali often lacks the necessary context and depth of understanding. These elements can confuse students who are new to yoga, as they struggle to connect the physical practice with the philosophical teachings being presented.
In my opinion, integrating philosophical or spiritual elements into a yoga asana class is challenging and often does a disservice to students. Effective Dharma talks require careful threading and sequencing to be meaningful and coherent. As a member of the Yoga Alliance Registry, I see the importance of establishing minimum standards to prevent the misuse and miseducation of yoga. However, the current standards often fall short of truly valuing and preserving the integrity of the practice.
Yoga, in its commercialization, has become a business, and navigating this capitalist landscape necessitates certain guardrails. While it is unfortunate that such measures are needed, they are essential to ensure that yoga schools maintain a standard of education and practice. The broader question that arises is: what is yoga? For many, yoga is perceived as a spiritual practice, imbued with sacredness and holding answers to life’s challenges. I view yoga as a tool—a means to achieve wellness. Over my 15 years of teaching, I have observed that everyone who comes to yoga seeks well-being.
When teaching yoga, whether within my own culture or another, my goal is to offer options, techniques, and practices that guide individuals toward wellness. This includes breathwork, movement, the use of props, and guided meditation, often inspired by nature, which is a universal experience.
If I were to practice yoga in a culture outside my own, I would begin by introducing myself, expressing gratitude for the opportunity to share in their practice, and acknowledging my status as a visitor. I would explain my teaching approach and emphasize my hope that the students find value, comfort, and accessibility in their journey to wellness. Listening to students is paramount—paying attention to their breath, ensuring they can follow the sequence, and offering modifications as needed. While I often use Sanskrit as a universal language, I am mindful of my audience and may choose not to use it, especially with individuals who may find it triggering, such as those with PTSD.
In conclusion, addressing cultural appropriation in yoga requires ongoing learning, sensitivity, and a commitment to honoring the practice’s diverse roots. By fostering an environment of respect and understanding, we can navigate the complexities of practicing a culture outside our own while offering meaningful and accessible yoga experiences.