Five things about teaching I learned from my dad

by Alana

Last week, I was humbled to learn that I’d been recognized as one of Waterloo Region’s top yoga instructors. In one of the toughest years of my life, this distinction means even more, and it has me reflecting on those who’ve supported me along the way.

Megan and Lo who were honoured alongside me. They led my teacher training program and run the studio where I got started. They saw potential in me, during my training, that I didn’t have the confidence to recognize in myself and provided a platform for my teaching from the very beginning.

The girls I went through teacher training with – they’ve been a constant source of inspiration, encouraging me to take on more classes and explore more styles of teaching. My business partner Megan Prenty, who has cheerled me from day one, and of course, every one of my students, from the OGs in my online classes to my rocket and aerial squads.

But most of all, this recognition has me thinking about my parents. I never wanted to be a schoolteacher like them, but I ended up teaching classes of a different kind. My mom was the reason I got into yoga, and she and my dad modelled the kind of teacher I wanted to be.

I wish my dad could have lived to see me achieve so much in my first years of teaching. Since he didn’t, I thought I’d share some of what he’s given me.

Lean into your strengths

My dad was six feet tall with a booming voice. When he wanted to, he could fill a room. He worked in a rough part of Toronto with students that were too difficult to fit in at other schools. More than once, he used his big voice to break up fights or to get his students to ‘sit down, shut up, and do your work’ (one of his favourite mantras).

But he tempered his disciplinarian ways with a wry sense of humour and quick wit that endeared him to students. I remember one Christmas my mom came home from her kindergarten classroom with nearly twenty gifts from students. My dad, by contrast, had just one. A box of Mirado pencils given to him early by a student because the student was pretty sure he was going to be arrested in a few days.

My dad learned how to use what he had – his physical presence, his humour – in an authentic way to connect with his students. He helped me understand that I don’t have to hide any of my weird quirks – my lame jokes, my teasing barbs, my chronic tendency to overshare – when I’m in teaching. That showing up, as yourself, is not just okay but is a meaningful way to connect with people.

No two students are the same

My dad spent most of his career leading the Special Education department. He worked with kids with Autism, OCD, and other neurodivergencies. He worked with kids who were kicked out of other schools for behavioural issues. Everyone received a custom experience depending on their needs. He’d often get down on his knees next to a kid that was struggling and patiently walk them through their work.

Teaching yoga, I don’t have the luxury of a small classroom where I can cater to each student’s needs. But my dad helped me understand the importance of providing options – I use a lot of “maybes” when I teach to offer variations to increase or decrease the challenge of a shape. I provide permission for students to explore whatever movement feels right. I share when certain shapes don’t work in my own body to normalize the idea that not every pose is good for every student.

“Just try it”

If you’ve ever taken a rocket class me, you’ve heard me go “just hop your feet back, no big deal.” “Just try it” and “this is easy stuff” were some of my dad’s stock phrases. He’d start off with confidence in his students – students that a lot of other teachers had given up on. Sometimes it backfired. Students got frustrated when he called something “easy,” and they were struggling with it. But sometimes, his belief in them was infectious.

Rocket throws a lot at students without any pretense. I love the sequence because you can try it, or not, and the outcome really doesn’t matter. But I find in my own practice that I’m motivated to try the Hard Thing over and over again. Then, one day, it works! I try my best to encourage the same mindset in my students – just try it! What’s the worst that can happen?

Be prepared

My dad and I both struggled with chronic insomnia. We’d have joking conversations about being on the same antidepressant sleep meds. The upside of not sleeping well is that we both made the most out of mornings. My dad would bike to work and arrive two hours before school started, getting all his prep done, grading, and planning his day. If he got through all that, he’d sneak in a chapter or two of whatever massive book he was reading at the time.

I owe my dad for my habit of showing up early, of having meticulous class plans, of making sure the studio is ready, long before my students show up.

Make people care, if you can

My dad’s students were forced to be there. But when he could, dad would try to make school at least somewhat relevant for these kids from very different walks of life. Stuff got wild in his classrooms sometimes. He once had a student jump out a second-floor window to get out of class (the student was okay).

But he also had little breakthroughs. I remember him working through Of Mice and Men with a class and then letting them watch the movie. “No! Lenny dies?!” shouted a heartbroken kid who hadn’t finished the book. With the right lesson, my dad had that special gift of making his students invested.

We live in a broken, cruel, and violent world. There’s so much systemic inequity that is outside of our control. Yoga, the way it is gatekept in the west, is a privileged and often expensive hobby, and it seems frivolous to even suggest that having a yoga practice can do anything to help in the scale of atrocities like war, the climate crisis, or injustice.

But I’m a firm believer that healing our world starts with healing ourselves. I’m proud of my students each time they step on their mat. They are taking time to tune in, to build the skills of physical and emotional regulation, and to be fully present. If more of us embodied those attributes off the mat, maybe the world wouldn’t be in such rough shape.

I care, not just about an individual class, but about your yoga practice as a whole and about the relationships and sense of community I foster in my classes. I can only hope that my passion can be an inspiration to my students.

I could share so many more lessons learned from my parents. But I think it’s enough to say that if you enjoy my classes, then you have my dad to thank as well. I know I’ll never stop being grateful for him.