While I have enjoyed many novels considered “classics,” and many books in the capitol-L literature category, young adult dystopian literature is my go-to for pleasure reading. As I explain in my forthcoming book, Girls on Fire: Transformative Heroines in Young Adult Dystopian Literature, my obsession with YA dystopia became the subject matter for a class and for a book. And as I argue in both these settings, YA dystopia’s Girls on Fire provide a powerful lens for thinking about the future. But the stories of girls in the worlds of YA dystopia often share important similarities with their counterparts in dystopian Literature.

In Girls on Fire I analyze some of the similarities and differences, connections and inspirations, between and among young adult dystopian literature and dystopian Literature by women.* Several of these adult books feature teenage protagonists—usually just at the cusp of adulthood. In addition to the books I write about in Girls on Fire (like California by Eden Lepucki as well as In the Heart of the Valley of Love by Cynthia Kadohata), there are several interesting contemporary examples of adult dystopian stories that center not-quite-yet-adult protagonists like Memory of Water (2012; 2014 in the U.S.) by Finnish author, Emmi Itäranta and America Pacifica (2011) by Anna North.

Our vague cultural markers, like the age of eighteen, supposedly imbue a teenager with adult status though the reality of adulthood does not hinge on this marker. In the realm of dystopia, our protagonists have adult responsibilities and adult worries beginning in childhood, but they are often ignorant in the bigger picture of their society—the ways in which the past has shaped the present and the ways in which power and corruption have done the shaping. Becoming an adult—in both YA dystopia and adult Literature—means having the blinders removed and finally seeing reality for what it is, not what we have been brainwashed to believe.

This is the case in both Memory of Water and America Pacifica. In the former, the protagonist has been interning as Tea Master, an ancient profession reserved for men. Noria is almost through her training when her world shifts; her father dies, her mother moves away, and she is left to protect and discover secrets that change the course of her life as well as her community. In America Pacifica, Darcy lives in a world that revolves around her mother and their bare level of subsistence. When her mother disappears, she is left to uncover the secrets her mother has kept, secrets that not only reveal her mother’s hidden past, but also the potential for revolutionary change for the oppressed of Darcy's world.

Both girls, who are also women, put into motion the possibility of change in their oppressive societies. Both societies have reached the point where extreme corruption and greed have made life unsustainable; both Girls on Fire influence the tipping point in an attempt to restore balance. For Noria, the price is death, which comes about mostly through lack of communication and misunderstanding. But she leaves behind key information that shifts the roles of power and possibility by revealing the government’s generations of lies. For Darcy, the price is losing her mother and almost losing her life as she helps to topple the corrupt regime and then follows her principles and sets out on a lonely, dangerous journey to find people on the mainland.

In both cases, there is much more work left to be done. Though circumstances force these girls to grow up—to take responsibility not just for themselves, but for their community—their coming of age is similar to the coming of age for a society or culture. That shift toward hope for something better happens, but more development is needed. It takes time to mature into adulthood just as it takes time for a society to mature into a just, free, equal community. Girls on Fire survive their toxic, abusive, violent societies and spark progressive change. They provide inspiration and incentive for us to do the same.
 
*The main difference between young adult dystopian novels is the role of sex and romance. Typically, there is far more sex and far less romance. This is the case in America Pacifica where Darcy has very little experience outside of her life with her mother, but has still made out with a number of boys and agrees to have sex with a guard to get the information she needs. This is not, however, the case in Memory of Water where there is no sex and no romance besides the hint of love disguised as friendship.

I've been enjoying designing yoga classes around different themes and ideas--like yoga for snow sports or my new "Yoga Outside the Box" series I will be offering at Shanti Yoga Studio in March--and finally got around to writing about one of my favorite themes, the 2016 Bangor Pride Festival theme, “Bye Bye Binary.”

The "Bye Bye Binary" theme inspired me to design a special yoga class on the subject of binaries--that tendency in our culture to think of everything as either/or. I offered this class to a group of people fairly new to yoga, many who attended my three previous weeks of gentle yoga classes, which gave a solid foundation in the basics of yoga. As I have been thinking about yoga and feminism, I was inspired to share my approach here and to expand it to other classes that I teach.

The ideas I write about here were woven together with movement designed to reinforce the ideas. The ideas are complex, but they can be broken down in classes to be more accessible and, like yoga, to be a life-long learning process.
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In my work in American studies and Women’s and Gender studies, binaries are unpacked. Things we think about as being opposite are complementary. They are not polar opposites, they are two sides of the same coin. However, our culture tends to value one side of that binary, giving it power over its subordinate. Men are considered superior to women. White is seen as preferable to black. Straight is normal; gay is wrong. We are often uncomfortable with ambiguity.

Yoga, which roughly means union, is the perfect prism for breaking apart the binaries that can hold us back from feeling whole and connected. Yoga comes with its own inherent binary: mind/body, though we might add “spirit” to break up that binary. And in our culture, the mind is seen as having control over the body. This control is seen as an ideal and this narrow idea shapes how people are valued in our culture. For instance, people who are overweight are seen as having a lack of self conrtol. Our bodies dictate many of our opportunities. Our mind is influenced by the contradictions of our culture, and our mind impacts the health and well-being of our bodies.

How often does our mind allow us to love our own body, to be at peace with our body? Yoga gives us tools to find that peace, and part of this is about letting go of our preconceived notions of the limits and possibilities of our bodies. Yoga gives us perspective; it connects us to our breath and helps us find our mental and physical edges. It gives us the literal and figurative space to stretch and expand. Our mind and our body work together.

There are other binaries that yoga can help us break, clear, or heal: male/female, man/woman, masculine/feminine. Gender is not an either/or choice as much as our culture would have us understand it as one, though this is changing. And while the tradition of yoga is also based on this gender binary, and many classes are dominated by women, yoga is not gender specific.

When we breathe consciously, we are practicing yoga. In yoga we can be warriors—the survivor, the fighter that needs no gender. We fight for our cause and for the people who cannot fight for themselves. Men can be more in touch with their emotions and more open to the power of the feminine. Any body can participate in the movements that comprise yoga. There are options and variations that meet us where we are at that moment.

In terms of sexuality, binaries of gay/straight, or even the binary of bisexual, fixes sexuality rather than recognizing the fluidity of sexual affection, attraction, and action. Yoga can help us learn to focus and connect; it raises our awareness of our body. There are many poses and ideas in yoga that are focused on fostering healthy sexuality. The second chakra is thought to regulate the mind and body aspects of sexuality. And energy knows no gender.

Yoga helps us to take care of our minds and our bodies, to not give too much of ourselves and to practice self-care and self-love. We can see the self as a part of something bigger, but also better sense the permeable boundary between us the and the wide universe that surrounds us—the endless universe that we can never know. We do not have to choose between one binary; we can choose among the limitless possibilities.

And if this all sounds too good to be true or too scary to try, I would have thought so once. Yoga is many things and not everything I describe here will be found by everyone who practices yoga or with every yoga experience. In fact, most yoga classes will not unveil the power of yoga to break binaries. Like everything else, knowledge, practice, and an open mind are some of the necessary tools to chips away at the binaries that define and confine us.
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[Side note on yoga and gender: As I noted in a previous blog, I attended a Kundalini yoga class at a conference where a popular yoga personality gave us an option to choose one particular hand mudra (position) if we were a woman and another if we were a man. This position was supposed to be held with intense breathing for an extended period of time while periodically chanting along with the music. I changed from one to the other periodically wondering what I would do if I were questioning or genderqueer. Through my movements I felt like I was balancing the masculine and feminine that work together, and I wished I had the knowledge to challenge the instructor. As it was, I probably interrupted the energy flow of our collective ecstasy. But, such rebellion in the face of gendered yoga experiences is important for breaking binaries.]

Well, I guess I better let the cat out of the bag. … Not that I would ever keep a cat in a bag, of course. I mean I love cats, so I would if I could, but….

You see I am totally stalling for a few reasons…

First, this news that I am breaking still feels a bit unbelievable to me.

Second, it is really hard for me to tell my students and colleagues that I will be away not just for the spring semester sabbatical that I am currently enjoying, but also for a new opportunity that I have accepted.

So, here it is:
For the academic school year 2018-2019, I will be the Fulbright Danish Distinguished Chair at the Center for American Studies, University of Southern Denmark in Odense. This means, I will not be teaching at UMA during the academic school year.

I will, however, be teaching for UMA this summer and next summer, so there’s that.

Despite that I applied for this Fulbright back in August, the news that I was selected was a bit of a shocker. With each application update I was sure that I would receive a rejection at any time. I was kind of looking forward to rejection because it would make my life far less complicated.

But I also told my dean, colleagues, family, and friends that of course I would get this Fulbright because I feel so completely unprepared for it at this current juncture in my life. But, I guess that we are never fully prepared for the opportunities that life throws at us. So, to add to my sabbatical list of projects: I will be getting prepared to spend next year living, teaching, and researching in Denmark.

Thus, my adventures (and blogging) will continue beyond my sabbatical project/adventure and into my Fulbright year abroad. … But until then, there is much to explore!

To say I am a feminist yoga instructor feels redundant. However, it is important to make this distinction more clear given the vast array of approaches to feminism and the similarly vast array of approaches to practicing yoga. Both are contested, commercialized, conflicted.

Being a feminist yoga teacher means being more than a feminist and more than a yogi. There are many overlapping aspects of yoga philosophy and feminist theory and pedagogy, but a yoga teacher is not necessarily a feminist unless they embrace the complexity of social and cultural systems and help the individual navigate this reality using yoga’s tools.

For instance there are strains of yoga that believe in the pure, unadulterated power of positive thinking. If you visualize it, meditate on it, and get out of your own way, you can have it. They even go so far as to say that you can acquire riches through visualization and meditation.

Further, if you get enough people together to meditate, they can change the world simply through the vibrations of meditation. However, in a social and cultural system that is based upon oppression, visualization and meditation is not enough. Power and privilege shape our lives in ways that we, as individuals, cannot control. We have to work together to change these systems and no amount of meditation or vibration can make these changes.

Both of these ideas are simplistic and some yogis would accuse me of being too cynical to appreciate the nuances of spiritual power. However, I am a realist and an optimist. I know there is power in yoga. I have felt this power—or some of this power, at least. Yoga and meditation can be transformative, but if we wait around for some kind of magic to happen (especially on a global scale), we are simply being naïve.

Thus, the power of critical thinking that comes with feminism is an important aspect of feminist yoga. However, it’s not like this is an easy aspect to work in among the asanas (physical poses/practice) of a yoga class. I often sneak this critique into the music and into some of the things I say during class.
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As I think more about what a feminist yoga teacher is and what that teacher does that is similar and different from other approaches to yoga (one of my many sabbatical projects!), a few initial thoughts are floating around…. Some of these are overlapping and there is a lot more to unpack here…

A feminist yoga teacher empowers students, activating awareness and providing space for discovery. This might be awareness, empowerment, and discovery on an individual level, but it might also extend beyond the individual, into culture or community.

A feminist yoga instructor is aware of gender dynamics and is concerned with power dynamics. They understand the connections and contradictions of the individual and the structural. For instance, while yoga in the West is often dominated by women participants and instructors, it still suffers from the impacts of patriarchy. I have heard and read many accounts of sexual assault that have happened during yoga classes; for instance, a male instructor who would kiss women during savasana (final relaxation). The sacred space of the yoga studio is not always safe for women.

A feminist yoga instructor is informed by intersectional feminist theory as well as interdisciplinary yoga traditions. Simple, one-dimensional approaches to feminism, or to yoga, are incomplete and act to obscure the ideas and the practice.

A feminist yoga instructor has an awareness of the limitations and possibilities of the body and mind that is grounded in an understanding of anatomy and kinesiology as well as their own embodied experience. A feminist yoga instructor teaches from their body while recognizing the limitations and possibilities of the bodies in the room. Participants are encouraged to strive for challenge and ease depending upon a variety of factors.

A feminist yoga instructor makes interventions toward transformation—of individuals as well as institutions.

A feminist yoga instructor recognizes the diverse spiritual aspects that are experienced through yoga and honors this diversity.

A feminist yoga instructor understands trauma—its impacts on the mind/body and the tools that can help to heal.

A feminist yoga instructor values process and suspends judgement. They continue to learn and grow in their practice as well as their teaching.

A feminist yoga instructor understands consciousness as both critical/oppositional as well as transcendental.

A feminist yoga instructor challenges gender stereotypes and recognizes the natural balance of femininity and masculinity as well as the socially constructed foundations of these natural phenomena. For instance, when taking a Kundalini yoga class we were told to do a certain hand mudra (position) if we were female and a different one if we were male. I switched my hand mudra several times throughout the exercise and wondered if there was anyone in the room experiencing discomfort at the idea of choosing a hand mudra based upon sex/gender. I try to emphasize the feminine and masculine characteristic that we all have and the importance of balance.

A feminist yoga instructor encourages and models self-care, sets aside ego, and taps into community.
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Feminist Yoga
Happens in community
Utilizes an awareness of structure and personal navigation
Emphasizes process
Calls for patience
Develops empathy
Increases mental flexibility
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These ideas represent the early stages of further research, thinking, teaching, practicing. It might just be that feminist yoga is just yoga taught consciously and responsibly. Or, perhaps feminism has something to offer the development of yoga in the West and we are just starting to tease out the possibilities.

One of the women in my YogaFit Warriors training wore a tank top on day two that said: “Peaceful Warrior.” She said that she had found it in her closet and it seemed appropriate. A veteran in our group said: “No one loves peace more than a warrior.” In my American Studies courses, with a diverse cross-section of veterans and civilians, I would have to agree.

In my work as a professor of American Studies, I teach about state violence—war, the prison industrial complex, poverty, structural racism—and the ways in which individuals and communities (and our nation and our world) are impacted. In my introduction to American studies this last fall, one of the students had a particularly difficult time with this material because her husband was currently deployed. It is not easy to read about the lies, the history, the patterns, and the hypocrisies of war, let alone when a loved one is on the front lines.

And, yet, the veterans I have had in my classes over the years have been some of the most critical thinkers and some of the quickest to see through the propaganda and lies—not only about war, but about American history, culture, and society.

Veterans need tools to help them reintegrate into society—to heal the wounds of war. In addition to tools for personal transformation (like those provided by YogaFit for Warriors), tools for critical thinking are also important. It might not be easy to face the truths of American war; it is certainly not easy to face the realities of American war. And America does not do enough to take care of its veterans, which is why we so need programs like YogaFit for Warriors.

It holds true here as much as anywhere else: we have to deal with our own shit before we can help other people deal with theirs. We have to deal with our own daemons before we might feel ready to fight the daemons with power. Healing the body and mind must happen before we can heal the nation.

I don’t have children. I don’t plan to have children. And I don’t spend a lot of time with children. So, I was not looking forward to choosing one of the two required classes to complete my 200 hour yoga certification: Prenatal or kids. I chose based upon availability. Because most of my fitness teaching happens at the YMCA, and because pregnancy pretty much grosses me out, I was glad that it worked out to complete my YogaFit for Kids training in Palm Springs this January.

In the past, I have been asked to teach yoga for kids and I have filled in for instructors for kids’ dance classes. Working at the YMCA, it was only inevitable that I would teach yoga to kids in some way, shape, or form. I did a yoga session for the Martial Arts Kids Camp that did not go very well. A few kids were into it; the rest pretty much ignored me. This was not totally unlike teaching adults, but adults tend to want to do exactly what the instructor is doing.

I was also asked several times to teach yoga to kids, but declined (or deferred) because of my busy schedule. I also declined because I had no idea how to make yoga friendly to kids. I had a few ideas about how to use animal poses to engage kids, but from there my imagination failed me.

The biggest challenge for me in the Kids training is that because I don’t spend a lot of time with kids, I have forgotten the markers of childhood—the aspects of learning and the permission to play. After taking Yoga Fit for Kids, I finally have a clue. I’m not saying that I plan to run out and teach yoga for kids. But I better see the value in teaching yoga to kids. Besides the benefits of relaying tools for managing stress and regulating emotions, I understand the role that stories play and the ways that games can be used to engage kids in yoga.

I also saw many parallels in my mind/body fitness dance as well as the other training I took in Palm Springs—Yoga For Warriors: PTSD. In mind/body fitness dance, we encourage participants to play and (re)discover their bodies while connecting to their minds. In Warriors and kids yoga we let participants find their way into a pose. We downplay the alignment cues and let them find ease and comfort in each pose.

I try to incorporate elements of play and ease into all my yoga classes. I try to give my participants structure and freedom.  I try to teach them new things—new ideas, new poses, new sequences. At my YogaFit Kids training, I was reminded how important these elements are in yoga, and life, more generally. Play and ease are aspects of yoga that we should all embrace—even if we aren’t tapping into our inner child.

For many years, Betty attended almost all of my cardio fitness classes at the Bangor YMCA. When I met her, she was in her early 70s and she would hold her own with the younger women in the room. She would wear her uniform: old-school leotard and tights in a variety of bright colors, often with a sparkly belt or headband or a ring with a flashing light. She liked to dress up.

The YMCA was Betty’s social time and she had many friends in class. We often told Betty how inspirational she was to us. We would sing for her birthdays, and class was never really the same without Betty there. And Betty made her presence known—through her loud voice as well as her generosity. If Betty didn’t like something, she told you. But, if Betty liked something, she would also tell you.

And Betty liked—loved—sweets. After (almost) every class, Betty would have a piece of chocolate for me and for the other instructors and some of the participants, depending upon how much chocolate she came with. Most often she gave us the Dove chocolates with inspirational sayings. Sometimes the treat was mini-sized candy bars like Baby Ruth or Snickers. Sometimes she had caramel and chocolate. Sometimes she would bring an orange or a pear or a piece of homemade banana bread. She would apologize if she came to class empty-handed, a very rare occurrence.

For years, Betty would tell me that she was not feeling well and that she was going to try to make it through class. But, if she left early, she didn’t want me to worry. Until recently, Betty never left class early. She stuck it out for the entire class and often did some extra planks. When she left class, she would tell me that she hoped to see me next time. Most often, she did.

If Betty didn’t like something, she would not do it. And she would be sure to tell you that she didn’t like it. For instance, Betty liked the dance classes best. She hated kickboxing. Sometimes I would throw in some punches during my mixed-cardio classes. She would do the punches and then tell me how much she hated that part of class. If she was really unhappy, she would let me know by not giving me a piece of chocolate after class.

In fact, Betty complained about a lot of things. Almost every day she would have a new complaint to share with me. Often it was complaints about her chronic illness; for decades she battled COPD and also suffered from vertigo and heart problems as well as the occasional ankle injury (which rarely kept her away for long). But she would also complain about the YMCA policies, like being required to have her debit card on file for the automatic payment plan. Regardless of the complaint, I would listen and nod my head until she was finished. Sometimes (rarely) I could help resolve the issue. When she complained that she ate too much ice cream or cake in the middle of the night, I would praise her for such actions and encourage her to eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.

She also liked to complain about the other fitness instructors. She told me on many occasions that the other instructors are great girls, but that she and I were just on the same rhythm. The way I taught seemed to work for her. Even when I was delivering the same choreography, Betty liked the way I delivered it. But, I also catered to Betty’s requests. For instance, the rope lights bothered her and she preferred the room bright. We compromised and I would turn off the rope lights, but I would not turn on all the overhead lights. When I would have to miss a class, I would be sure to let Betty know, if only to spare the sub from her wrath.

But Betty also showed me her appreciation outside of my fitness classes. For years she would send me cards for St. Patrick’s Day and Halloween. When the holiday fell during her time in Arizona for part of the winter, she would often write me long notes about her Jazzercize classes and the dry weather. At Halloween time she would often send me a card and a couple of crisp dollar bills so that I could get myself a treat. She always remembered my birthday and once she even brought me one of her favorite frozen cakes—a coconut cake that was so delicious that I ate almost the entire thing and had to throw the rest in the trash to stop myself (which was only marginally helpful).
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This year, Betty passed away on my birthday, January 27. I was expecting the bad news. When I left town in December, I had not seen her at class for the last couple of months. This was not too unusual; despite her regular attendance, she would often miss a stretch of time for health or travel reasons. But, this absence felt different. For the last year or so, I had seen her health deteriorate. She lost weight (which she did not need to do). She had trouble making it through a whole class and would actually leave early more often than not. I got in touch with her husband to check up on her and the situation did not sound hopeful.

For years she told us that coming to classes was what was keeping her alive. And it was true. It was not only the physical exercise that helped her clear her lungs, it was also the community. When Betty wasn’t there, we missed her.

And so, even though I am away from home and I haven’t taught a cardio class in more than 40 days, I will miss Betty. I will remind myself of her spirit and her love of sweets. I will eat all the cake and ice cream I want. I will speak my mind and I will try to remember to be kind and grateful. I will remember how important it is to keep going, to push through the limitations that our bodies set. I will remember how important it is to tell people what we appreciate about them. I will keep on dancing, for myself as well as Betty.