Most teachers handle a pregnant student one of two ways. They treat her like nothing changed, or they treat her like she might shatter. Both fail her. And both come from the same place — not knowing enough.

In a lot of rooms, Led Primary is a filter. Keep pace, and you belong. Fall behind, and you stand there watching everyone else while you figure out you don't.

Most yoga teaching is optimized for a twenty-five-year-old body. Flexible, resilient, quick to recover. And everyone else is quietly told to keep up or quit.

Most Ashtanga rooms treat chanting like a loyalty oath. Everyone stands, everyone recites Sanskrit they don't understand, and anyone who opts out gets the sidelong glance.

Most yoga teachers treat breath like a background app. "Remember to breathe." Thanks. Very helpful.

In most Western yoga studios, "karma yoga" is a spiritual word for unpaid labor. And it tends to come from the people least able to say no.

For years I played Sharath's invocation recording every morning at six-thirty. Dim lights, incense, the altar, the whole atmosphere. Students walked into it completely cold. No context, no opt-out. Some loved it. Most had no idea what was happening. And a few of them never came back.

Most yoga spaces treat money like a dirty word. The donation bowl sits by the door, nobody says what anything costs, and the teacher smiles through the financial anxiety. That's not spiritual. That's avoidance.

Every teacher has biases running in the background. The only question is whether they run the show undetected, or whether you drag them out into daylight. For years, I didn't drag mine anywhere.

I used to be a good teacher. Knowledgeable, attentive, students got technically proficient under my watch. And then I'd go on vacation, and their practice would fall apart.