While on vacation in San Francisco my sister-in-law and I dropped in her neighborhood yoga studio for a class in the Iyengar style. The room was narrow and small. Ropes or straps of sorts hung off the wall, looking a bit daunting and peculiar. Our instructor was a young guy who was shirtless and wore baggy shorts like old fashioned bloomers. He began the class with a long chant that the small group of us tried to follow as we sang disjointedly. I did not know what to expect and did not want to pass judgement without giving the instructor or the class a chance. I kept an open and curious mind.
We were barely into the class when he came over to me while I was getting settled into warrior pose. Suddenly, he pushed down on my thigh firmly and screamed, “Give me your groin! Give me your groin!” I thought at first that I must not be hearing him correctly. Then he repeated his demand. I wondered what he wanted with my groin. Maybe he meant my hip, to open my hip. Being a fitness instructor, I am sensitve to how instructors communicate and empower or disempower students. Besides, I certainly didn’t want to give him my groin, such an odd and uncommon demand!
I glared at him and told him firmly, “This is as far as I am taking the pose.” I wanted to use some martial arts punches and kicks on him and yell, “Back off Buddy! This is my body that you are attempting to mess with!” I remained in a strong warrior pose, mortified and wanting to leave that instant. My sister-in-law glanced over at me and saw the look on my face.
How dare he push me and touch me without asking permission? Isn’t yoga about listening to and respecting your body and those of your students? He then proceeded to defy yogic philosophy as I understand it, and began to press my sister-in-law’s breast bone, trying to force her into a pose that she clearly wasn’t ready for. (She returned home with red marks on her chest.) If this wasn’t enough torture for one night, as I was lying in corpse pose, breathing audibly (sighs of stress and relief that this awful experience would soon be over,” when he screamed, “There is no place for that kind of breathing in this class!” That sour and sharp note concluded the yoga class from hell!
