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BestSelf, doula, Healing, Honesty, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

In Response to Masculine Birth Ritual

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November 29, 2018

- BestSelf, doula, Healing, Honesty, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

Masculine Brith Ritual – A Podcast About Creating Life Outside The Lines

Masculine Birth Ritual is a podcast created by Grover Wehman-Brown, a writer, Baba to two  kids, and a transmasculine butch who has carried a child. The podcast came out of a desire to connect queer and transgender people to roadmaps for survival in pregnancy, birthing, and parenting, and create space for more representation of transmasculine and gender-non-conforming people in those spaces. 

I absolutely adore this podcast and the stories that are being shared through it. The discovery of this podcast came at an extremely critical moment for me, both personally and professionally. So I thought I would give a little bit of background and then return to the podcast itself and share pieces of it that have been most meaningful for me.

If you would like to learn more about Masculine Birth Ritual and listen, click here!

& consider becoming a Patreon to support the production and longevity of this amazing work! 

Acknowledging and Affirming: My Own Gender Identity, Expression, and Social Transition as a Birth Professional

This past spring, I was in one of those places where it feels like everything is pulling apart just so that you can piece it back together in a new way. After leaving an unhealthy living situation to the call of, “go home, Jenna,” I moved back into to my parents’ house for a temporary hiatus (5 months) from a sliver of the responsibilities that I could give up (rent, groceries, utility bills), and I acknowledge the fact that I was able to do so is an immense privilege. I was exploring sobriety after – justly – questioning my relationship with alcohol. I was expanding my work as a doula – rebranding, establishing an LLC, hiring an accountant, adding new service offerings, working in a business coaching program, taking multiple courses related to my professional development… 

Still, all of those shifts were nothing compared to one piece of myself that, while it had always been there, had recently begun to swell up, throb, and demand action – my gender identity. “Now is not the time,” I tried to convince myself. 

Fast-forward through a whole mess of internal work. 

Many of you know what came next, or you can probably guess. I ultimately decided that I couldn’t step fully into the deeply personal work of a doula without being authentically myself; I had to be transparent in order to be trustworthy, even if it meant being misunderstood by many, and all the loss that comes along with that misunderstanding. I began the social transition to out as a trans non-binary person in both my personal and professional lives. 

It always seems like massive shifts happen all at once, rather than one at a time. Like nearly all transitions, the ones I was experiencing at this time in my life were painful, but worth it. 

The only one of these changes that I ever catch myself doubting is my choice to be out publicly. I could look to blame others for this lack of confidence, but I won’t. The onus is on me for the way that I internalize the cultural narrative of the gender binary, and as a result fight with my own transphobia on a daily basis. I am responsible for the way I allow being misgendered and misunderstood to invalidate my sense of self, and the way that I question my value as a non-binary birthworker. This is an every day battle for me, and until recently, I failed to fully realize that this struggle makes me even more valuable as a doula, not less. 

It was one moment recently – one small moment – that was so meaningful in affirming both my identity and my identity as it relates to my profession. Scrolling through Instagram one day, I noticed my friend Ray of Refuge Midwifery had posted about a new podcast. Enter, Masculine Birth Ritual. 

My experience as a non-binary doula, and also as a non-binary hopeful future parent, is defined in part by a sense of isolation, despite knowledge that there are other people out there like me. So when I come across any connecting force for birth-y genderqueer folks – a podcast, an article, a facebook group – I find myself instantly uplifted. 

As I began to listen to the podcast, I immediately felt parallels between the stories shared and my own experiences. Though each of the individuals interviewed have vastly different backgrounds and stories than one another, and myself, the connections I felt were extremely validating. Rather than diving deeply into analysis of those connections (because I’m not even sure I could articulate them clearly), I will instead share a few excepts from the transcripts of two interviews below, and then a very short list of affirmations I have been working with.

From Rabbi Elliot Kukla, a trans Rabbi & non-binary Papa, who cares spiritually for folks who are dying, as they process their grief. 

Listen to Episode 5 here.

I actually came out as trans the same year I was ordained as a Rabbi in 2006. So they were very connected for me. I didn’t plan to come out really that year it was a really difficult time to come out in the same moment as being ordained. But it really was you know discovering that I couldn’t step into this role of being a Rabbi without a coming out process.

…

We have a stereotype that elders are going to be the least open to a trans population and very sick people are you know the least open to something new. And I really discovered just the opposite that you know elders and people who are very sick and people who are dying and in moments of transformation. Are often you know going through a similar process that I went through when I came out of you know… cracking open and are often at their most open and most vulnerable. And that being served by someone who clearly is liminal in some way and is fairly marginal in some way can be a profound form of connection. In fifteen years now of being a chaplain of doing this kind of work I can count on one hand really at the times that someone’s really struggling with my gender. And those times have been spiritually powerful often. You know there’s been a couple of times I’ve had to just not serve someone but most of the times it’s been spiritually meaningful when someone struggled with my gender.

…meaning that we are able to use that struggle in something that is relevant for their spiritual care and that’s what I’m for for that usually you know we’re able to not get stuck in that but but figure out what it is that is what is being touched on in them. And maybe it’s something about their own gender or something about their own transition in that moment or feeling outside or feeling in-between things
or feeling like the world is changing really fast.

From Mac Brydum, a social worker, doula and transman who is trying to conceive.

Listen to Episode 3 here.

I’ve found over the years through trial and error that that’s really where I shine and that’s where I’m happiest professionally, is being with people as they’re going through major life transitions and having a baby is one of the biggest life transitions anyone can go through. And I also just have a real love and passion and a real wonder, actually, about pregnancy and birth and parenting. And I think that stage of life for so many people is confusing and overwhelming. You hear a million different opinions and
sorting through all of that and figuring out what you actually want to do can be really really complicated.

So in the last few years I’ve found that being a doula is the perfect fit for me because it’s this fusion of, you know, I think of it as a form of social work because I am supporting people through a major life change. And I also think of it as a spiritual practice in a lot of ways as well because when somebody is becoming, you know, they are taking on a new identity…

…and as a trans person I can understand a shift in identity. While I’m not a parent myself yet, I hope to be soon, and so one thing that I’m really big on is just holding space for that shift in identity for the parent. 

Affirmations…

My trans non-binary identity makes me stronger as a full-spectrum doula supporting people through birth, postpartum, pregnancy loss, and abortion because…

  • I understand personal loss.
  • I am practiced in transformation.
  • I know what it feels like to question myself.
  • I understand that grief is inherent in transition.
  • I know what it is like to feel misunderstood or invisible.
  • I live in the space between who I was before and who I am becoming.
  • I am familiar with the feeling of being lonely, even when I am not alone.
  • I relate to the experience of existing outside of the “norm” in a space where “norms” are an illusion.
  • I know that while others may relate to my experience or try to define it on my behalf, my experience is mine alone.
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birth, doula, Intention, Loving Kindness

A Blessing For Birthing People

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November 27, 2018

- birth, doula, Intention, Loving Kindness

 May all birthing people everywhere be safe and free from suffering. May they have access to information and care that aligns with their sense of safety and freedom, regardless of their status in society, the color of their skin, their gender, sexual orientation, or family structure. May they feel respected, heard, and held through the sacred rites of pregnancy, birth, and postpartum. May all hold space for the loss that is inherent in these sacred rights. May birthing people seek to thrive, not simply survive. May all see the grace that is intimately intertwined with the experiences of carrying, birthing, and caring for new life, regardless of outcome. 

Words by Jenna Brown

Illustration by Dan Gluibizzi

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Loving Kindness

Trans Violence Comes in Many Forms

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November 9, 2018

- Loving Kindness

CW: Gender discrimination, racial discrimination, suicide, privilege

 

In the spring of 2018, I came out publicly as trans non-binary in both my personal and professional lives, which are intimately intertwined as a doula. I questioned the timing of this alongside the growth of my business, but ultimately decided that I could not effectively show up in service of others without doing so transparently as mySelf – more on this and why I see my gender identity as a strength in the work I do in the cis and heteronormative world of birth in a future post. 

 Since, I have dealt with some hurtful push back, but even more so, a whole lot of well-intentioned, but alienating nonsense. What is more important to me about these experiences than my own feelings around them, are the ways in which they have helped me begin to understood in a completely new way what transgender, non-binary, and gender non-conforming people who have fewer privileges than I, have to deal with/have been dealing with for all of human history. I am someone who is generally accepted (if misunderstood) in society because of my appearance and behavior, and so in addition to privilege as we often think of it, I also acknowledge that folks may be marginalized to varying degrees based on demands and exceptions when it comes to conforming socially. 

 

I get a lot of questions from people in my communities about trans identities and experiences. I can only ever speak to my own experience, and then show up to hold space for others. Some of the most common perspectives I hear from cisgender people about “trans issues” are laden with microagressions. In many ways, I find that I am forever negotiating the differences between impact and intention, and so I thought I would address some of the most common harmful everyday transgressions against transgender people that I come across. 
 

So here are some ways that you (and I) might be acting in a way that is exclusionary or even violent towards trans folks, whether you are cisgender or not:

  1. You forget, or you do not know, that trans people of color, and especially trans women of color are disproportionately impacted by all of the injustices expressed on this list and beyond. You forget, or you do not know, that trans women of color are often murdered and those homicide cases almost always go unserved. You forget, or you do not know, that trans people, and especially children and teens are more likely to commit suicide.
  2. You question or deny the validity of trans and gender expansive identities (even in a way that to you seems harmless). Maybe you do this out of fear. Maybe you do this out of misunderstanding. Maybe you simply do not realize that you could never define someone else’s experience on their behalf. Maybe you do not know that there is historical, cultural, and medical precedent to support and validate these identities.
  3. You forget, or you do not know, that trans people generally have much more limited access to necessities like healthcare, housing, and paid work. 
  4.  You stay silent in the face of discrimination towards trans, non-binary, and gender non-conforming people. Your silence is exactly what has the power to erase us. Just because you don’t outright deny the existence or validity of trans people doesn’t mean you aren’t violent towards them.
  5. You have questions about gender, but you don’t bother doing any research or seeking out information that will help you deepen your understanding.
  6. Or, you don’t have any questions (in which case you very likely are not reading this post) because you think that none of this applies to you or anyone you know/love. You think that you would know if someone in your community or life was trans. You think that they would tell you. You don’t realize that your apathy marks you as an unsafe person. You don’t realize that you likely do know and/or care for someone who is trans. 
  7. You ask someone in your life who is trans to be the one to educate you, your community, or your business partners/employees on gender. … And if/when they comply with your request to do so, you don’t even consider that perhaps you should compensate them for their time and emotional energy.
  8. You wait to begin learning about transgender rights until there is an out trans member of your family, community, or a trans coworker/employee at your place of work.
  9. If you are a business owner or manager, you avoid hiring trans employees and/or make it difficult for them to work in your space by not having gender inclusive policies in place. If you are a public servant, health care provider (especially if you are a health care provider!!!), housing provider/landlord, or in a service based profession of any kind, you avoid serving trans people and/or make no effort to make your service inclusive of them.
  10. You know someone who is transgender, non-binary, or gender non-conforming and you choose to ignore their identity. You misgender them, use the wrong pronouns, use their dead name, or avoid talking about them/to them all together because it makes you uncomfortable. You think this is okay because you, “still love them,” and aren’t explicitly cutting them out of your life. 
  11. You acknowledge and stand with trans people in your community, but you forget that allyship is a dynamic relationship, not an identity you can claim for yourself. If this is you, please continue to be in conversation with those who you want to support. Be mindful that not everyone is out in all of their circles, and be sensitive to the ways they might want/need support. 

Just because you don’t outright deny the existence or validity of trans people doesn’t mean you aren’t violent towards them. Love is an active practice, not a passive state of being – especially when it comes to loving those who live in the margins. Fear and shame fester in silence and inaction. 

 

New to this conversation or these ideas, but inspired to learn? Here are just a few resources to get you started:

 

https://www.genderspectrum.org/quick-links/understanding-gender/

Click to access allys-guide-to-terminology_1.pdf

Click to access asking-for-name-and-pronouns.pdf

 

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birth, doula, Healing, Honesty, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

Through a Trauma Lens: The Need for Doulas

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May 3, 2018

- birth, doula, Healing, Honesty, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

Trigger warning: trauma, doctors, hospital, birth, sex It is very important to me to approach all of the work that I do from a trauma-informed perspective. Whether it is asking for consent before touching a student in yoga class, offering self-regulation skills to those I work with, or preparing clients for potential triggers*, I do my best to incorporate my on-going learning in the field of trauma into my professional practices. Recently, I began taking trauma classes for professionals through Lakeside Global Institute (formerly IFP), and have been layering in what I am learning with my preexisting trauma-informed approaches. One of the biggest impacts these classes have had on me so far is the ability to speak to why I do things differently than other professionals like me.  Why remind yoga students over and over that everything I offer in class is optional? Why ask about family relationships on my doula client intake forms, or wait until the third and final prenatal meeting to practice hands-on skills with my birth clients? It has also given me the language and understanding to better explain why trauma should be considered when understanding that doulas are a necessity, not a luxury. The scope of this post will be specific to birth doulas. I feel obligated to insert the following disclaimer: I have now put myself in an interesting place, because I am saying that there is a need for birth doulas, and that they are a necessity… but I also deeply believe that the cultural narrative surrounding birth is flawed because it necessitates the help and presence of professionals and paraprofessionals during childbirth. I believe that instinct alone CAN be enough to guide someone through labor, but because birth has become medicalized and pathologize-d, and because most folks feel safest under the observation of a medical professional during childbirth, I am making the assumption that the majority of those who might read this would plan to give birth in a hospital, birth center, or under the care of a midwife at a home birth. Do I think that you need a doula order to have a positive birth experience? In the deepest sense, no, but in the cultural sense yes. That being said, through a trauma lens… what makes doulas a necessity?
Evidence Supports the Use of A Birth Doula Did you know that there have been 25 randomized, controlled trials that studied the effects of continuous labor support, including doulas? The 2017 Cochrane Review compiled the results of these studies. Overall, those who received labor support had a decrease in unwanted medical intervention (including a 39% decrease in the chance of unplanned c-section), and overall less anxiety AND less pain. Any measurable differences between those assigned labor support or those who went without, were more significant when the assigned support was a trained doula. When considering trauma, the most relevant piece of data from this review is the significant decrease in a person’s feeling of dissatisfaction with their childbirth experience… a 31% decrease in those who were supported by a doula. Now, the word “dissatisfaction,” leaves a lot open to interpretation. Let me put it this way… childbirth is demanding physically, emotionally, mentally, energetically, financially, relationally… the list goes on. This isn’t a shrug your shoulders kind of dissatisfaction, as you mutter, “Eh, we’ll get it right next time. Easy come, easy go.” This isn’t a time to be polite about the small intrusions or discomforts. Trauma is sensory. It is stored in our bodies in a way that can feel mysterious because it exists beneath conscious thought. You had better believe that someone touching you in an unwanted way (especially invasively or internally), talking to you in a way that distracts (especially in an inappropriate tone or using thoughtless language), smelling strongly near you, or being in your sensory space in any way that is overwhelming, will be much more intense when you are in labor, and the impacts may be longer-lasting. Now, add in that labor is always unpredictable. Whether you are having your first child, or your fifth, you have no idea what this experience will bring. New sensations and signs of labor, new timelines, and new thought patterns can throw us into an alarmed or fearful state. When we lose the ability to think clearly due to fear, everything starts to feel like a potential danger. In a medicalized labor setting the sensory overload and feeling of fear could be amplified. To give an oversimplified example, if you are being monitored, there might be the constant sound of your baby’s heart rate, and periodic beeping from the monitor when it is out of paper, or the band slips off of your belly and it can’t get a read. The loud beeping continues until someone is comes in to stop it, and while they’re in your room they likely also touch you and ask you questions. Double or triple that pattern of alarming sound, medical disruption, and the anxiety it might cause if you are receiving IV fluids or medication. With each disruptive trigger, you might drop into a lower brain state. You forget the tools you prepared to help you through labor – your breath, your affirmations, your movements – and minutes start to feel like hours. A doula can help you self-regulate. No matter your labor setting, the level of medical intervention you choose, or the unpredicted twists and turns of labor, your doula will remind you of your coping mechanisms. A doula can also help you improve the sensory setting. Whether its turning down the lights, or coaching your partner when and how to best communicate with you, or asking the nurse to please wait until this contraction is over before they try to place that IV. The little things that a trained doula knows to look for and prepare for make a big difference when it comes to how the memory of your labor experience will be stored and processed.
Benefits the Development of Your Child Did you know that your baby begins storing emotional memories in the 3rd trimester of pregnancy? And, emotional memories are the longest lasting memories? And, the younger a person, the greater an impact that trauma has? The way that you feel in the final weeks of pregnancy can have lasting impacts on the development of your child. When the brain is sent signals of stress or fear, development is focused in the brain stem and midbrain. Survival becomes the goal. We want our children to thrive, not simply survive! Often, stress in the 3rd trimester is related to preparation for labor. Perhaps you’re beginning to question your abilities or your level of preparedness. A doula will not only spend time in prenatal meetings helping you to prepare in the way that is best for you, but they can also answer any lingering questions. Many birth doulas are also childbirth educators, so they are a wealth of information to supplement any classes you may have taken, or books/blogs you are reading. Having a professional who will answer your texts, calls and emails, and who will validate your ability to birth and to parent makes a huge difference in your stress level in the final weeks of pregnancy. The increased positivity will help your baby store memories that are positive, too. When the brain learns love, rather than fear while still in utero, it sends a very powerful message – grow, develop, be unafraid, there is a lovely world waiting to meet you.
Helps Mitigate the Impact of Transgenerational Trauma Did you know that trauma can be passed down? We might be okay with our children having our green eyes, or creative mind, but we probably want to prevent them from feeling the hurt that we have felt in our own lives. If you have a traumatic labor, then your baby has a traumatic birth. It is that simple. If you do not adequately process your traumatic experience in childbirth, it will perpetuate. Both you and your baby can avoid unnecessary trauma, and heal from unavoidable trauma with the help of a trauma-informed doula. As a trauma-informed doula, often this means that I refer clients to professionals with higher levels of training and capacity than myself. We don’t know what we don’t know. Someone who can help you identify what is traumatic, and seek out the appropriate path towards healing is invaluable.
Long Term Financial Benefits Did you know that from a systems perspective, it is more socially and fiscally sustainable to identify, prevent and heal trauma, than it is to ignore it and find quick fixes for trauma symptoms? Okay, that was a mouthful. I want to avoid getting into unrelated politics here, so let me just say this… There is a cultural tendency to ignore trauma. Sometimes,  this is because we don’t recognize it for what it is, so how could we possibly identify it? Instead, we see and treat the symptoms of trauma. We see a new parent struggling with postpartum depression, and a doctor who prescribes drugs instead of nutritional balance in order to address hormones and mood. We see a new parent return to work after minimal parental leave, and get penalized for shirking their professional responsibilities as they adjust to a major life change. We see someone who has given birth unready to return to their pre-baby sex life, and a partner, friend, or family member say, “well your doctor cleared you for sex, didn’t they?” Consider, too, the way that any trauma in a growing child might be misunderstood and improperly treated over time. Where is the financial element in these social trends? There are layers and layers to this, so to oversimplify… drugs cost money, an inefficient workforce costs money, families in turmoil or separation cost money. Trauma impacts all of us, whether directly or indirectly. It takes a toll on our families and our societies if it continues on ignored. If we can properly prevent and heal individuals from their traumas, everyone benefits.
Remember that disclaimer I started with? I just want to remind you that you CAN do this! You can give birth, and you can parent! You are also capable of doing this without the input of an outside professional. But, we all like to feel heard, seen, and supported. Feeling heard, seen, and supported should not be a best case scenario, it should be a reality that you demand. A doula can help you create that reality, regardless of your intentions or preferences for labor. If for no other reason, consider a birth doula as a necessity – not a luxury – through the lens of trauma. As always, choose Love Over Fear. *This post does not include explicit discussion of how past traumas might be triggered in pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum.  
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birth, doula, Healing, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

On Re-membering

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February 11, 2018

- birth, doula, Healing, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice

I’m sitting across from Sam, a new friend and one of the most animated and excitable individuals I have the joy of knowing. Sam talks with her hands. She stares off into space as she talks, the same way I sometimes do, as if she’s reading from an invisible teleprompter that helps her to articulate her consciousness. After she has taken the time to beautifully explain what she means, Sam also listens – like, really listens – and she asks – like, real meaningful questions. And so I’m sitting across from Sam, talking about being a doula, and studying and working with birth when she asks me… why? “I hear that you are doing this work because you’re responding to a need. I can see that need is real. But, if you could sum it up in just a few words or sentences, why do you do what you do?” I stare down at my coffee as I try to figure out, aside from the medical model, aside from the lack of perinatal care, aside from the limiting cultural narratives… why? I close my eyes. “I guess… it’s just so… human. Humanness.” I look up at Sam, her eyes are lit up and she’s gesturing for me to keep going, “Yes! This is great…” “Remembering how human we are. Birth is the divine feminine and masculine together. Just – human. Remembering that this is a part of what makes us human,” I finish, feeling a little unsure and pretty inarticulate. Sam doesn’t seem to mind my less-than-eloquent delivery, in fact she is pumped. In her animated response to my answer, Sam does this… well, thing. She mock-dislocates her shoulder, and pops it back in with her opposite hand as she says, “remember. Re-member.” Apparently this word carries a lot of weight for her right now, and I feel it too. “We are all just piecing ourselves back together,” she says. Re-member.  Memory is such a fickle thing to me, personally. I have a terrible memory. I often find myself fighting to remember. But, to re-member. Wow. That is exactly what I see happening when I attend births. That is what I try so desperately to help my clients to realize. They know how to do this already. It is part of their own humanness to know how to labor and how to birth. If they listen, if they trust – their bodies will tell them how to move, how to breathe, where to focus, and what to ask for from their labor support partner(s). Whether it is their first baby or third, they know. Likewise, those supporting them will know too, if they can tap into the ferociously human experience playing out around them. In the throes of labor, if they try to hard to remember in an analytical way (details of all of the books they read, classes they took, advice they got, etc.), then they will be overwhelmed. So this, re-membering, must be different. To re-member is to reintegrate yourself in a trusting, loving way. So much of what I consume related to birth culture is founded in fear and distrust. We either distrust our bodies and are afraid, so we hand over power to the medical model. Or, we distrust the medical model and are afraid, so we expend all of our energy in the countercultural fight for autonomy during childbirth. What if – regardless of our circumstances, regardless of how we choose to labor, regardless of how we choose to live – all we had to do was trust ourselves and re-member? Piece ourselves back together. Be fully human. Re-member. Imagine how empowering that would be.
I see similar themes on the yoga mat. What if we could re-member there, too?
Thank you to Samantha Rise for letting me use our conversation in this post! She is an artist and has a new album coming out this summer that I am sure will contain so many excellent human themes and ideas. Check her out @samantharisemusic on Facebook
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Honesty, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga

An Open Letter to My Yoga Students: What I Will Never Do

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June 6, 2017

- Honesty, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga

Photo by Joe Longo Photography at Yoga Home

  Dear yoga students, I promise I will never take photos or videos of you in savasana. I will never take or post any photos of your practice without your consent. I will never touch you without your consent. I will never comment on your shape or size. I will never sexualize the cues that I give to you. I will never scold or judge the way that you choose to exist on your mat, physically, emotionally, mentally… and I will never tell you that you aren’t allowed to leave the practice. I will never force you to do anything. I will never be upset with you for taking another teacher’s class or developing your own home practice. I will never fail to remind you that you are your own best teacher. And if I mess up and I do one of these things, which I will from time to time – because heaven knows, I am human – I will own up to it and apologize. I promise to never do anything to make you feel unsafe during your practice in the ways others have made me feel unsafe during mine. And, if I do make you feel unsafe in any way, please tell me, because I will always be receptive to that feedback. Now, how can I make you feel more empowered? In gratitude, Jenna
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BestSelf, Healing, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga

Consent and Hands-On Adjustments in the Yoga Classroom

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August 3, 2016

- BestSelf, Healing, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga

“Throughout class I will offer hands-on adjustments, if you are open to receiving adjustments during your practice, [turn your palms to the ceiling] now, and if you prefer not to be touched, stay as you are.” I say the above, or something similar, towards the beginning of any yoga class I teach during which I intend to give students physical adjustments. To me, this doesn’t seem revolutionary. More and more, yoga instructors are being taught or coming to realize that it is important to ask permission before touching their students. Not everyone wants to be touched every day, and there is an enormous list of possibilities as to why that might be – injury, trauma, bad mood, distractions. I am not going to address those possibilities in any detail here, instead I will discuss consent. I have been asking my students’ permission before giving adjustments for about a year, but recently I have shifted to using the consent-based language above. Why? Thanks to a workshop with Gwen Soffer (Enso Yoga) and Melissa Lucchesi (Voices Inc.) my eyes were opened to the distinction of consent (see resources at the bottom of this post for more information). Consent is empowering. Consent allows you to say, “yes,” as emphatically as you want, so that you don’t have to say, “no,” with any emphasis (or panic). In a culture that is hyper-sensitive to political correctness, we have somehow neglected the importance of consent.  The baseline assumption when you request anything of another person, should be that the answer will be “no.” I don’t say that to sound negative, I say that because unless they consent, unless they choose to answer “yes,” then you shouldn’t expect your request to be granted. In the US you are innocent until proven guilty, well, in this life your requests are denied until they are granted. When you are acting in relation to others – you need to ask – you can’t just act presumptuously. I mean… you can, but if you do, you’re probably being a privileged asshole. That being said, just because you ask for something doesn’t mean you will receive it. The baseline assumption when another person requests something of you, should NOT be that you are obligated to find a way to say “yes.” Saying “yes” doesn’t make you a better person, more generous, or cooler. Saying “yes” when you don’t want to is not only exhausting, but also, by saying “yes” when you don’t want to, you are surrendering your personal power. We tend to fall victim to social obligation, rather than practicing our right to consent. I truly believe there is no personal freedom greater than the power to give consent. So, back to the yoga classroom… Here are some of my thoughts about consent, lack thereof, and hands-on adjustments in class, based on my own personal experience as a student and a teacher. If a teacher asks permission before giving physical assists in any way, even without using consent-based language, I believe that is better than not asking at all. For example, I used to say, “Throughout class I will offer hands-on adjustments, if you prefer not to be touched [turn your palms to the ceiling] now.” This is almost the same as how I ask now, but it requires that those who do not want to be touched take action to opt out. This is not the same as giving consent. This assumes that everyone wants to be touched, except for those that don’t. It also puts those who are opting out in a potentially uncomfortable position. Similarly, I have also heard teachers mention at the start of class, “I will be giving assists during class, if anything feels uncomfortable, you are welcome to say no thank you.” Social obligation may drive students to accept unwanted assists, or to feel guilty about taking action to say “no.” It’s like walking around a party with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and handing them out to everyone instead of letting people choose to take one for themselves. All the party-goers take on that distinctly awkward body language as a deviled egg is shoved into their hand and they mumble, “oh, okay, thanks,” and then turn to their friend and say, “I really don’t want this,” and end up leaving it hidden in the foliage of the nearest houseplant. If a teacher only asks permission while in the process of giving an assist, I still believe that is better than not asking at all… but barely. The instructor’s hands are on the student and then they say, “does this feel okay?” In some cases, a student will reply “no,” but more often than not they just nod their head in agreement. I have to wonder how many students have grimaced through a painful or downright bad assist out of social obligation and a desire to placate their instructor.  Finally, there are teachers who do not ask permission at all to give hands-on assists. Some of these instructors are my friends, and some are my teachers. I still choose to take many of their classes, but I am practiced in letting go of social obligation, setting my own boundaries, and saying “no,” and that is not the case with most students. Some of the reasons I have heard to justify giving hands-on assists without asking permission include:
  1. Two fold…
    1. “If a student comes to my class, they know they will be adjusted.” What about new students? What about students you know but have a new injury, or are in a bad mood, or just want their freakin’ space today? I can tell you from my own experience that there are certain teachers that I know will adjust me if I am in class, and when I am having a day that I don’t want to be touched, I don’t go to their class.
    2. “If they don’t want to be adjusted, they can just go to a different class.” Sigh. Well, shit.
  2. “I can just sense whether someone wants to be touched or not. I can sense their energy.” Even the most wonderful, in tune, energetically aware instructors have been blinded by their own ego and presumptions and given me assists that were unwanted. That is, before I learned to say “no.” Please please please, instructors, keep your ego in check on this one.
  3. “I’ve been teaching for so long, I’m not going to change the way I do things now.” Well that’s just a stupid excuse. The yoga practice is one of self-awareness and personal growth. If you have decided that you will continue to not ask permission before giving adjustments, fine, but at least come up with a justifiable reason.
I ask my instructor friends to join me in questioning why we approach adjustments in the way that we do. Is it our place to give hands-on assists? Should we ask for permission, and if so, how/when? What is the real purpose behind each and every assist? When might we be causing more harm than good? How much of how we view assists is our own stuff/ego? What might we be putting on our students? How can we best serve every student who walks into our classes? Historically, this conversation has gotten pretty heated. It is difficult to consider that we might be harming our students or making them uncomfortable when we have the best of intentions. Just try to take the time to reflect on consent-based physical assists. Whether or not it resonates with you as a teacher or practitioner, I believe that we owe it to our students. The teacher-student dynamic inherently has a power hierarchy, and as teachers, we need to take every precaution not to strip our students of their personal power. Consent is a personal freedom. Let’s give it back to our students.
Click the Links Below for More Resources: Affirmative Consent Arrives in Yoga Studios Permission Stones Trauma Informed Lens – Gwen Soffer and Melissa Lucchesi      
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Reframing: Street Harassment & Healing

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March 23, 2016

- Body, Healing, Honesty, Loving Kindness, Practice

It is a beautiful day in Philadelphia, and I decided to walk the mile-and-a-half home from the regional rail station through North Philly, instead of taking the subway. I had every intention of using the time to mentally prepare to get home and edit writing I had already done so that I could share it, and instead, I was inspired to consider and write about something new. I don’t have a car. And I’m afraid to bike on the city streets. So, I get around on foot and by using public transportation. And it’s worth mentioning right off the bat that I am new to city life. Sexual harassment is an every day occurrence for me. And one that I can’t help but notice and process. Sidebar: If you have found this and it is hard for you to understand why street harassment is not an acceptable way to interact with others, perhaps you are thinking what’s the big deal, anyways? Or, how do you even define street harassment? I encourage you to seek the wealth of both experiential and research-based information on this problematic behavior. Or, reach out to me individually. It is not my goal in this piece of writing to address this multi-faceted issue in great depth, but I hope you choose to explore it and form your own opinions. Here are my thoughts on street harassment today…. At the start of recovery from my sexual assault, everyone I passed – especially men, especially in uncrowded areas – registered as a predator to me. I was afraid of everything and everyone. It was a visceral, survival-based, gut-wrenching experience of fear. Even passing someone who looked at me, who did nothing more than witness my physical form, felt like harassment. If someone were to catcall me, or comment on my appearance, it would just about always end in panic, and usually tears. I felt no ownership over my body. I hadn’t confronted the reality of my story, my shadow, and I felt helplessly weak. At this time I was living in the suburbs… I can’t even imagine how I would have recovered my sanity if I had lived in the city then. Years of healing later, and months ago… When I first moved to the city, harassment was much more triggering for me than it is now. I was in the process of uprooting and re-grounding my life, and as I have found my roots here my sensitivity has decreased. I’d like to think this isn’t just because I’m becoming jaded, though I’m sure that plays its part. As a woman… a young woman** living in Philadelphia, there is no way to avoid street harassment. Not only are there simply more people in the city, but this kind of harassment is also culturally accepted here. And the more time you spend on foot, particularly in neighborhoods outside of the Center City District, the more you will be exposed to it. When I moved to the city this fall, I was prepared to brace myself and just ignore the calls and comments that I knew were inevitable. Easier said than done. In my case, I couldn’t help having a physical reaction to harassment – a little jump, increase in heart rate, nervous sweat… It wasn’t nearly as intense as it was years ago, but definitely jarring. I’ll just put my headphones in and listen to music instead, I thought. Then I realized how much more unsafe I felt (and was) when I was unable to hear my surroundings. So I started putting in my headphones but not playing any music. Maybe men won’t harass me if they think I can’t hear them. Wrong. Now they weren’t always talking directly to me, I just got to hear the disgusting ways they objectified my body out loud to themselves and their friends. Next, I found ways to avoid areas/times that I discovered I was more likely to be called out. This was a reasonable solution, but sometimes meant taking a cab or uber… a pricey solution to avoiding fear. (It’s worth noting here that I am not talking about avoiding actual danger, in which case, YES I would always pay for a ride and take measures to stay safe. I have never felt that I was in a truly unsafe area or situation, just unpleasant and uncomfortable). Over the past several months, I have made it a practice to confront the fear of walking alone and being the object of harassment. I confront this fear not just out of necessity to function and get around the city, but for the sake of confronting it. Today, as I walked through North Philadelphia, I noticed a real change in my experience with street harassment. I felt was fearless, but aware. I had no bodily reaction to the men who addressed me in an unwelcome and inappropriate way. I didn’t feel a noose of anxiety closing around me, or hear the voice in my head that used to tell me all the ways another person might be about to harm me. Why? Here’s what I think has shifted for me… I am in control of my body. I feel ownership over my body. It no longer feels like my body, because of its size, shape, sex, gender, race, or any other projected quality is powerless. This is a new normal. Maybe this is where becoming jaded comes in. Or maybe, it’s just learning to self-regulate in a new environment. I am able to see the good in others. I don’t see predators walking towards me down the sidewalk. I see beings capable of Truth, Love, and Kindness. I see people whom I want to know, even if only through a moment of eye contact or a smile, not people I want to run from.  I recognize that in my fear I was projecting negative assumptions on others – and while sometimes warranted, at their root these assumptions were still unfair. So today I walked past the unwelcome commentary with Fearlessness, open ears, a high head, and no waver in my stride. And with those who addressed me with Kindness, I connected through Love.       **I believe that factors such as sex, gender, age, race, appearance, etc. play into this narrative, but am not prepared to discuss their role in a educated and informed way. If anyone reading this post would like to engage in constructive conversation surrounding diversity and street harassment in a large city, I encourage you to reach out to me personally via the contact section of my site. I would welcome and appreciate an appropriate forum to explore this topic.  
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When Did I Become A Woman?

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February 14, 2016

- Healing, Honesty, Loving Kindness, Mind, Miscellaneous

When did I become a Woman? It’s not that today was the first time I saw these curves staring back at me, naked in the mirror. But today was the first time I loved them.   …Even the belt of softness around my hips. …Even the hole above my belly button where a piercing used to adorn. …Even the dimples on my thighs.   And I asked…   When did I become a Woman? It wasn’t the first time I bled. Or had sex. Or made love. But, the first time I lucidly dreamt of my own child suckling at my breast.   When did I become a Woman? It wasn’t when I was raped. Or harassed. Or heartbroken. Or hurt. But, when I was willing to admit I had been victimized.   When did I become a Woman? It wasn’t when I fell in love with a man or a woman. But, when I had the gall to own my fluid sexuality.   When did I become a Woman? It wasn’t when I put on a dress. Or a bra. Or had a manicure. But, when I felt beautifully human.   When did I become a Woman? It wasn’t when I learned about feminism in school. Or history. Or was rallied by my friends. But, when I realized on my own as I sat reading current events just how much the movement meant to me.   When did I become a Woman? When I realized I was graced by power not weakness. When I chose to be a Woman.    
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