Let's Talk About Sexual Abuse in Yoga

Over my decade-plus in the yoga industry, sexual abuse in yoga became completely inescapable. From high-profile teachers to studio owners to yoga teachers who you may have never heard of, sexual abuse was rampant in an industry that was supposed to be built on healing, not harm. What also became clear was the lack of attention paid to these abuses as well as the lack of accountability taken by both the accused and those who surrounded them. In a practice that bases itself on a close-knit relationship between teacher and student, what kind of industry have we created when those same teachers use that relationship to exploit power? What is the remedy for this when no one is willing to go against their teacher because of these same power dynamics? How can an industry based on providing healing and “safe space” continue when these spaces are no longer safe or healing?

When I first came into yoga, about fifteen years ago, there were a few burgeoning stories of abuse from prominent teachers - such as Bikram Chowdury (founder of Bikram yoga) and John Friend (founder of Anusara yoga). As a young teacher in yoga I really looked up to the more senior yoga teachers around me and, more or less, followed their lead, which is to say, not do anything about it. I remember people in the industry being disturbed by these allegations, but most of the people who I knew that practiced with these teachers decided to either keep practicing that same style of yoga with other, more respectable, teachers or they left that specific yoga practice for another type of yoga. As someone who didn’t practice Bikram or Anusara yoga at that time, I remember feeling like it wasn’t “my issue.” I actually didn’t even think these sexual abuse allegations were a “yoga issue.” I saw it as a specific issue with those teachers. Looking back now I see the flaw in this type of thinking and I see that many of us were just flocking around to different types of yoga, literally running, whether we knew it or not, from a huge problem that was unfolding. We were just moving around to different teachers without recognizing the underlying issue that was happening.

This cycle of abuse from prominent teachers didn’t become as real for me until it happened within the type of yoga that I practiced, which was Ashtanga yoga. As someone who dedicated so many years of my yoga practice to Ashtanga yoga, it was not only disheartening but extremely concerning when the founder, or as he was called in yoga, the “father”, of Ashtanga yoga was accused of sexual abuse.

Ashtanga yoga is a form of yoga that is traditionally taught directly to students from a “certified” or “authorized” Ashtanga yoga teacher. The teachings being delivered from an Ashtanga teacher directly to a student is a sacred passage of information, as is true for many traditional forms of yoga. The practice of Ashtanga yoga as we know it came directly from K. Pattabhi Jois, and he learned it from his teacher, T. Krishnamacharya. K. Pattabhi Jois passed away in 2009 and now his grandson Sharath Jois continues the Ashtanga lineage from his shala (studio) in Mysore, India. Truth be told, I loved Ashtanga yoga. I loved the repetition of it. I loved the steadiness of it. I felt grounded after I practiced it. I had a deep reverence for my teachers and for the practice. For as hard as this practice is physically, I truly loved and enjoyed it. It really meant something to me. This is why when the news broke of K. Pattabhi Jois’ many sexual abuse allegations I was, of course, really disturbed and disheartened. Because part of this traditional practice is also about giving reverence to the teachers that brought you this practice. The opening and closing chants of Ashtanga yoga honor these teachers, there are pictures of Jois in every Ashtanga studio I’ve ever been in. Ashtanga yoga is (or was) K. Pattabhi Jois in my eyes. So I found myself reckoning with the question:

How do you separate the practice itself from the teacher? Or do you?

But it was what happened after the allegations broke that was even more disturbing. Which was nothing. Nothing happened. No one addressed it. No one talked about it besides a few articles here and there. None of the teachers that I looked up to who taught Ashtanga yoga and had been students of Jois, many of which were men, were talking about the abuses that occurred at the hands of Jois. At least not initially. Certainly not in the timely manner that should be expected for the horrific allegations that were made against Jois.

I kept waiting on high-profile teachers like Eddie Stern, who has run an Ashtanga yoga studio in NYC for decades, to speak out about this abuse. I waited on my teacher, David Swenson who teaches globally but is based in Austin, TX, to speak out about this. I waited and waited and waited. I think a lot of us did, we wanted to hear someone, especially Jois’ students who were most of our current teachers, speak out about these abuses. Eventually, years after the initial allegations came to light, Sharath Jois, K. Pattabhi Jois’ grandson, spoke out about the abuse allegations against his grandfather. This finally prompted Eddie Stern to speak out. But for me, it was too little too late. The harm had been done in my eyes. This was not accountability.

The abuses that we saw at the hands of such a prominent teacher like Jois is just the tip of the iceberg. Sexual abuse allegations began to spring up everywhere in the yoga industry. Due to cultural reckonings like #MeToo and #TimesUp those who are abusive in the yoga industry started to be exposed like clockwork.

Of course, there is Bikram that I mentioned above (who has an entire Netflix documentary about the abuses he inflicted on his students). There is John Friend, also mentioned above, who was accused of using his influence to sleep with students and to bring them into “a Wiccan coven called Blazing Solar Flames”. There are sexual abuse allegations against teachers at Jivamukti in NYC. There are the rampant abuse allegations that came forward in the past year from NYC studio Yoga To The People, many of which can be read about on an account called YTTP Shadow Work. Just last week the white woman founder of Africa Yoga Project was accused of sexual misconduct and a slew of other abuses. Honestly, the list goes on and on, but you can read about many of them here.

What almost all of these examples have in common is an imbalance of power that is created through a very specific student/teacher relationship fostered through the practice of yoga. The student/teacher relationship in yoga is taught as a sacred relationship. The culture of yoga is to trust your teacher beyond all else. To trust that your teacher knows what poses you are ready for, to trust they know what is best for you, to listen to them about not just yoga, but about life, because after all, this is supposed to be a practice of healing with so much more to it than the physical practice. In Ashtanga yoga, in particular, the practice is strict and students look to their teacher to tell them what poses to do and when to do them. It’s a built-in part of the practice.

You are supposed to “trust” your teacher. But where is the line? How far is too far?

And should you need to speak up about feeling uncomfortable with something your teacher did, specifically in the case of Jois, with how they touched you during a “hands-on adjustment” will people believe you? Because after all, these teachers are looked up to by thousands, some of them, millions of students. And many that look up to them also look up to them in an unquestioning light. After all, they are the “guru.” This is just one of the reasons many of these abuses go unspoken for so long. Many of the allegations against Jois are from decades ago, and yet we only learned of them after he passed in 2009. And with so many of these abuses students who experience them are left questioning if what they had experienced was inappropriate, because they really do trust their teacher to not take advantage of them. So they are left unsure, isolated, and not sure where to turn.

This abuse doesn’t just stop with prominent teachers who are known across the globe. I have personally been touched inappropriately by a male yoga teacher in NYC in 2016 during a hands-on assist (it’s worth noting that I didn’t consent to be touched by him in the first place, he just touched me because of the assumed-consent many teachers feel entitled to). In another scenario, I quit a yoga studio (and walked out on the spot) in Dallas, TX, because the male studio owner wouldn’t stand up for me when two male students were sexually harassing me before class. In fact, the owner requested I go ahead and teach the class with just the two male students and me alone in the studio room, even though I told him I was uncomfortable. I have been ogled by a male studio owner in NYC leaving me feeling wildly uncomfortable, especially since I was there for a job interview. I could probably recount at least 100 other examples told to me by fellow teachers or students that I have spoken to over the years.

What became so toxic about all of this is that very few people were talking about any of it and so these teachers, studio owners, studio managers, etc, could just continue on with their abuses while survivors were left ostracized and alone. People cover up this abuse in yoga so regularly that the stories lose traction, they become diluted, they are glossed over because at the end of the day no one wants to risk their own position of power should speaking out against this result in their own loss of followers/ job/ money. This is not just in the yoga industry, of course. Sexual abuse is everywhere, in the workplace, at school, in relationships, everywhere. The same abuses are occurring everywhere, but it strikes me as especially disturbing in a practice such as yoga. A practice that should be based on healing and not on perpetuating the same cycles of harm found outside of this practice.

There has also been a huge debate throughout the years about physical adjustments, which could be (and will be) its own article entirely. What touch is and isn’t appropriate? What does consent look like? I’m not asking these questions. To me, the answers are clear. But these questions are being asked all the time in yoga teacher trainings around the world. “What does consent look like?” How could we ever create an environment in a place that is supposed to be “safe” in which a question like this could be asked? And even more disturbingly, that teachers, who have been trained under these abusive teachers, legitimately don’t know the answer? Because the men who created these practices had almost free reign to touch their students however they wanted under the guise of being a “guru.” Of being “all-knowing.” Of being the one who could say when students were equipped for certain poses or not. And don’t get me wrong, many brilliant teachers have studied human anatomy, biomechanics, and physiology and can warn students about ways they are moving that might create more harm in the body, or encourage them into poses that they may be unsure of if they’re ready for. Those teachers’ trust has been diluted by the ones who have abused their power to only create more power for themselves.

Of course, this doesn’t just stop with these teachers. Our entire patriarchal society runs rampant with abuse from men in power (and, of course, others in power too). Yoga is just a microcosm that has replicated the same types of abuses that are prevalent everywhere. The same types of power dynamics that thrive on secrecy are present in workplaces, academic institutions, social settings, and more. Yoga just gives a very specific “access” to those in positions of power to touch those, and exploit those, with less power than them.

Students and teachers of yoga should all be interrogating the conditions that have given rise to these types of abuses. What is the root of these specific power dynamics that have created these conditions? Conditions in which not only is abuse occurring, but abuse is kept secret. Of course, this is not just specific to yoga, but I can’t emphasize enough how truly harmful it is when a practice that should be healing only replicates abuse cycles, especially under the guise of “healing.” Those who come into this practice searching for healing, seeking to learn from teachers who are established, can be vulnerable to these abuses, and as a collective, it’s up to us to uproot and expose the places where harm is occurring. Because I know there is healing in the practice of yoga. But first, we must deal with the harm present if anyone can be expected to truly heal in these spaces. If we are always wondering if we are safe we will never find what we seek.

There are without a doubt so many more allegations that we don’t know about yet, which I hope will be exposed when and if the survivors are ready to speak about them. But we shouldn’t wait for that to occur. We should be constantly asking ourselves, especially yoga teachers should be asking, what power dynamic am I upholding in this practice? How do I view the autonomy of my students in their practice? What is my relationship with the teachers that I learn from and are those teachers abusing their power? If so, how can I use my voice to expose these exploitations? How do we break these power dynamics down every day? How do we find autonomy in our practice and shed the archaic views of all-knowing teachers, especially when that idea is at the expense of everything this practice should be about? Including all of our safety. Is this even possible? I believe it is. But for real healing to occur, as this practice claims to be about, and many of us believe it to be, we have to shed the oppressive systems within it. We have to get rid of the idea of all-knowing teachers if the cost is abuse. A practice that is focused on healing cannot be truly healing until these abuses are exposed and those who have caused harm are held truly accountable.