Yoga in the Teen Classroom
by Teri Collier
“Good afternoon, everyone!” I say, louder than normal, because it was the first class after lunch and I had just let 27 squirrelly freshmen into my class and the place was a zoo. No response: still standing, still talking, still shoving their friends around. “Good afternoon, everyone! We’ve got a lot to do and I’d like to get started,” I say, more loudly, more assertively. “Hello. Hi. We’re going to get started. Take a seat.” Still standing. Still talking.
My chest tightens; my throat closes; my heart starts to race as I struggle to keep my composure. These weren’t bad kids (few, if any, of them are); they had just come from lunch and it was Friday.
But it has already been a long day filled with classroom management challenges, kids not doing their homework, kids not paying attention, kids not caring, and I was spent. I don’t want to fight the fight anymore that day. I want to scurry out the door, down the stairs, into my tiny teal Toyota Yaris, speed onto the 105 to the 405 (no one ever wants to do that in LA), and just go home.
My internal dialogue sounds a lot like:
God, they are so disrespectful. They have no appreciation for English class. Or me, for that matter. Why do I work so hard for these little jerks? What do I do here? Have them clap once, twice, three times to get their attention? Yell at them all for coming into my classroom like a herd of wild elephants? Glare at them silently until they catch on?
And then, somewhere, quietly, in the back of my head, the voice of the woman who had spent time on her mat that morning whispered: Be calm. You have the tools to help them be calm. Use them.
Deep breath in. Long breath out.
“Again, good afternoon everyone!” I say, putting on my best smile. Some sit down, some don’t; some stop talking, most don’t.
“Stop where you are,” I say, a little more gently. They are curious.
“Take a deep breath in through your nose.” They all do it.
“Breathe out.” And the room is silent.
“Two more times, just like that.” They all do it again. The peace in the room becomes palpable. I let it settle.
“The invitation here is to close your eyes. If that doesn’t work for you, just look down at your nose, or at a spot on the ground. Continue to breathe. Notice how your body feels right now, in this moment,” I expect snickers, but it’s quiet, just deep breaths in, long breaths out.
“Let the spot between your eyebrows relax…your jaw…release your tongue from the roof of your mouth…let your shoulders melt down you back…” The whole room exhales collectively, sinks, like snow on a warm spring day.
“Take a deep breath in….breathe out. Slowly open your eyes.” They do. They look around, surprised, maybe sheepish, definitely sleepy. But calm. Shifted from their sympathetic nervous system to their parasympathetic nervous system; from “fight or flight” to relaxation; from a state that prohibits learning, to one that promotes it.
It’s no secret that modern education sets students up to be in an almost constant state of stress response. From early start times, to schedules packed with academics, extracurriculars, and athletics, to poor nutrition and slouching in front of a computer all day, their sympathetic nervous systems are running hot almost all day long.
And rarely do they get a moment to just breath. Be present. Check in.
And we expect them to learn in this condition?
This type of breath work and mindfulness had a profound impact on my right-after-lunch-on- Friday Freshman English class. They read quietly, collaborated, and wrote, without needing redirection for the entire class period. It was a beautiful reprieve for me and, more importantly, they learned. They practiced skills. They progressed.
I use this quick practice – and others that are geared more toward posture and moving the spine – almost every day at the beginning of my classes. And almost every day I have a student who walks into my class (or in COVID-adjusted teaching, logs into my Teams channel) and asks if we can do yoga today.
“Of course we can,” is my ready response. Because, for teenagers, it makes all the difference.
Teri Daniel, MA, RYT, has spent the last 10 years using education as a tool for social justice. As an English teacher, she helps high school students build the critical thinking and literacy skills they will need to be active, productive citizens in the world. With a faith life rooted in mindfulness and contemplation, she was drawn to yoga as a college graduate volunteering with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. In 2014, she took her own practice deeper by enrolling in the Holistic Yoga Teacher Training course and realized how beneficial yoga could be for her students as well. Teri is currently teaching
a variety of English classes at Chaminade College Preparatory High School in West Hills where she offers mindful breathing and movement as a daily part of the classroom agenda. When she’s not in the classroom, she’s
teaching small group yoga classes, private sessions, and tutoring high school students. Follow her on Instagram @yogi_ter.
