11/17/2022 0 Comments Everything Is Work: Conflicts of Interest and the Ethics of Being a Conscious BusinessFor almost my entire career I have walked a line between what is work and what is “work.” By some definitions, I am working all the time. For instance, my hobbies and passions of teaching fitness and yoga classes were often paid work in addition to being a work out. This is work that I have always done in addition to the work of being a student, and later a professor. For a long time these spheres were completely separate, in part because being a fitness instructor was looked down upon in the world of academia. I have worked over the last decade to bring these two spheres closer together.
Almost anything and everything I do that is not work can be connected to work somehow. My fitness teaching has been work, a work out, and then work in the form of research. As a cultural critic and theorist even my recreation of watching tv shows is also work! I have worked (there’s that word again!) hard over the past few years to create better boundaries between work and not work, and to pursue activities that are not at all work, but it is an ongoing challenge for a recovering overachiever and someone who is passionate about all the work that I do. Being a professor is to be in a vacuum that absorbs everything as a part of the expectation of our teaching, advising, research, university service, and public service. I can always do more, if only because it can be another line on my vita. There is an unspoken expectation that we should give more of ourselves, more of our time and energy (and even our money) in service to the university and our community. I teach my students that service is part and parcel with our privilege, but where do we draw the line? In my attempt to be ethical and serve my community, for more than a decade I have offered fitness/wellness events for free as well as low-cost events, sliding scale events, and events where the funds raised support scholarships. Part of my free offerings was my reluctance to profit from what I consider to be community service. I love being able to offer free events, especially to those who cannot afford to pay for the “luxuries” of self-care. With a flexible full-time job with decent pay and benefits, I can afford to be generous. I give freely of my time, energy, skills, and talents even when my giving is not always in my best interests. In addition to offering a ton of free and fund-raising events, on and off campus, I have also taught for non-profits where my annual pay is a nice bonus but doesn’t even begin to cover my expenses for trainings, let alone for the things I need to do the work of this side job. I’ve always operated from the idea that this work is more service than it is work. Even when I receive a paycheck I am also spending thousands of dollars a year on maintaining certifications and continuing my training. I could skate by on my knowledge and experience, but I want to learn more, do better, heal myself, and better serve my community. I have continued to operate with this loose ethical structure of service for over a decade—working a demanding full-time job while also teaching up to five or six fitness and yoga classes a week (plus unpaid prep time for these classes) and offering free events and classes, on and off campus. In this work, I consider myself to be an ethical person. At least I try to be. But in the world of yoga and healing modalities, like JourneyDance, we are encouraged to not offer free classes and events for a variety of reasons. Many consider it unethical to regularly offer free classes. We spend a lot of money on trainings and professional development and we are encouraged to ask to be paid what we are worth. (This argument of my own worth has always been an additional challenge for me!) But not everyone who needs these healing modalities can pay what they are worth in our capitalist system, which is an ethical dilemma that I struggle with. Further, when we offer free yoga classes, for instance, we are devaluing the work that other instructors are doing to make a living (not to mention the debates around cultural appropriation, but that’s a whole other blog!). Just because I have the privilege to afford to offer free yoga doesn’t mean that I should, especially if I am hurting the work that other teachers are doing in an attempt to make a living. And, really, by offering my highly skilled work for free, I am ultimately devaluing myself, even if this is not the way that I see it. My navigation of the lines between my professional career and my work in my community have become further complicated by my opening of a “business.” I really hope that someday I can say that I run a successful and profitable business, but that dream seems like a far-off future, especially since I have spent a sizable chunk of my personal savings to open the doors of The Spiral Goddess Collective, a Center for Mind/Body Movement. As a new venture, I really have no idea if I can expect to pay the rent each month, let alone make back the money I have invested in this dream. Further, because of the model of my enterprise—as a low-profit LLC that aims to provide not just affordable and accessible yoga and JourneyDance classes, but also free and low-cost community events and scholarships for community members who cannot afford the luxury of healing modalities—my potential profit is mitigated by my personal ethics and generous spirit of community service. I am okay with this. Even if I never make a penny of profit, it will be worth the time, effort, energy, and money to be able to offer my gifts and talents on my terms and to create space for others to do the same. The Spiral Goddess Collective is ultimately not about making money; it is about creating and curating space and inviting the community to engage in healing modalities. My community includes my colleagues—faculty, staff, and students at UMA—as well as people living in and around Bangor. But here’s the crux of the issue . . . part of what I am offering is workshops that colleagues and friends encouraged me to offer as professional development workshop opportunities, especially since UMaine system money is available for just such offerings. In an attempt to do so, I hit a barrier that I did not anticipate—UMaine’s policy on conflicts of interest. I have been told that while it is okay for me to own and operate a business as “outside employment,” UMA faculty and staff cannot use professional development funds to pay for my workshops because this is considered a conflict of interest. In fact, when I inquired further I was told that no faculty or staff in the entire UMaine system are allowed to spend professional development funds at my “personal business.” This breaks my heart. Not only because of the money that I will not be making, but because I have been offering workshops like this for free or by donation for a long time and I have witnessed the positive impacts that they have made on people’s mind/body health and wellness. Of course my colleagues can still attend. They can still choose to pay me their own hard-earned money. But because I now pay to maintain a beautiful, sacred space for such offerings, I can no longer afford to offer these services for free. I will continue to offer sliding scale prices, and I have already awarded scholarships to a couple of UMA students. So I find myself wondering what is ethical about this decision to bar faculty and staff from the entire UMaine system from using professional development funds to pay for the innovative, revolutionary services I am offering? Is it ethical to tell faculty and staff in the entire UMaine system that they cannot choose which trainings they want to spend their professional development funds on? Is it ethical to create a circumstance where I feel like I cannot charge what I am worth? Is it ethical to restrict funds to a business that is trying to place the best interests of its community above its profit margins? Apparently it is not a conflict of interest for me to offer free weekly yoga classes to UMA students and staff, and to give scholarships to those same students and other community members. It is not a conflict of interest for me to offer my professional services for free, as I have been doing for years. But it is a conflict of interest for people to pay me with money that comes from the UMaine system because I am also employed by this same system? To make this fuzzy boundary more complicated (because that’s what I do), The Spiral Goddess Collective is not simply “outside employment”; it is a manifestation, culmination, and synergy of everything that I have been working on, and for, over the last couple of decades, maybe longer. I had dreamed of having my own space and teaching mind/body movement on my own terms, but I never really thought this dream could be a reality. It only very suddenly came into being when the universe plopped down the opportunity of a lifetime right smack in the middle of my path. The SGC is a blending of my education, my activism, my academic teaching, my personal and professional research, my fitness and yoga teaching and training, my service, my ideology, my life’s work—the best of both worlds in one amazing, magical space that has already made a difference in my community. Evil capitalists bask in the glow of conflicts of interest and bend the rules of ethics all the time. It’s why we need conflict of interest policies in the first place. The language of the UMaine conflict of interest policy is vague—perhaps as vague as the rules that surround ethics more generally. I feel stuck and constrained by a system that is trying to preserve the ethics of its employees. I feel devalued by a system with no wiggle room and hard boundaries. I feel cheated out of an opportunity to reach more people in my community and to actually have a chance to make enough money to pay my rent and grow my business to serve even more people. My dream finally has a sacred space—a place where I can offer comfort, relative safety, and an atmosphere that fosters healing, rather than the austere and chaotic borrowed spaces where I have previously offered my healing modalities. But even with a physical space, the dream of The Spiral Goddess Collective still does not fit in a square world. I am just another “personal business.” There is no category on Google that describes The SGC. The categories on the Mindbody scheduling App don’t fit the classes I am offering. I still have to convince people that yoga and conscious dance are worth their time and money. I should have expected the lack of conventional fit, especially since its uniqueness is at the core of its creation and impetus. So, perhaps this is just one of the many lessons I have to learn about what it means to be a “business woman,” an identity that I avoided as long as I could and still struggle to embrace. Perhaps this is one of those “life lessons” that I have chaffed against as I have attempted to carve my own path through the wilderness of what it means to be an ethical person and to work in service of the people in my community. I will appeal. I will push back. I will continue to live and work within my personal code of ethics and hope that I at least break even on the money front. My approach has worked pretty well so far though I grow tired of always having to argue and defend innovation, transdisciplinarity, and radical service. And that is another reason why I took the leap and opened The Spiral Goddess Collective—every time I arrive there I am renewed, rejuvenated, and reminded that I am right where I need to be.
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10/18/2022 0 Comments Yes, Oh Yes, I am an Artist!When I was nine years old, my mother took me to see A Chorus Line, the movie, in the theater. It was a special treat that has stayed with me all of my life. I remember my mom saying something like, "now, there are a lot of things in this movie that you aren't going to understand because it is for adults, but I know how much you like to dance and I think you will really love this movie." I was all in, of course!
Since that special viewing, I have seen this movie countless more times and I know all the words to all of the songs, which I have been known to sing loudly and obnoxiously at times. When I was a little older, and my mom wanted to be hired at our local newspaper, we would drive by and she would sing, "yes, oh yes, I am a writer! . . . let me write for you. Let me try. Let me write for you . . . ." So, obviously this movie held special meaning to me and within my family, but also toward my identity as not a dancer. Oh, I could dream, but I knew very early on that I would never be a dancer, especially not the kind that could audition for something like A Chorus Line! And since I, like my mother, am a writer, this song line is always ever-present and ready to bust out of my subconscious or my mouth. By now you might have an inkling of why this this blog title echoes this song, but you might be wondering why I changed the word from dancer to artist. After all, I certainly have been able to claim my identity as a dancer! Again, not as a dancer like the ones I emulated and idolized in A Chorus Line, but as a person who loves to move to music, who loves to dance, who loves to create and teach choreography. It took me a long time and a lot of work to recover this part of myself and it is my passion and mission to continue my dance-related self-care practice and to teach dance-based classes and organize events that provide other people with a safer container to find their own love of dance and movement. I still have trouble calling myself a dancer, and proclaiming it freely. For a long time I had trouble claiming myself as a "real" yoga teacher, a "real" belly dance teacher, and a "real" writer because I did not feel like I could authentically claim this title. When a student or friend says something like, "I'm kind of a writer" or "I want to be a writer," I am quick to reinforce their self-efficacy. But, like so many things, it is more difficult to adhere to my own pep talk. It is even more difficult for me to proclaim myself an artist, which I am trying to work through. Because what I do when I create and teach a JourneyDance playlist, when I teach a yoga class, when I put together a syllabus, when I write a book or a blog or a website, and when I created The Spiral Goddess Collective–is art. All of these things tap into my creativity and flow out of me as if they have always been there just waiting to be born. One of my favorite quotes is from Ranier Maria Rilke, "You must give birth to your images. They are the future waiting to be born." I am always waiting for the future to be born, and when I get tired of waiting, I push my images out into the world. Now I am able to push other artists' images out into the world–whether they call themselves an artists or not! As Shoshona Currier, Director, Bates Dance Festival writes: “The value of the artists goes beyond the shows they create. Their work resonates throughout society in critical and creative thinking, collaborative work environments, problem-solving, dreaming. Artists change space.” And this is how I think of my art–the arts I describe above. And this is where I circle back to A Chorus Line. When my mom took me to see that movie, she planted a seed for a life-long love of dance (even as fear, shame, and self-doubt tried to separate me from this love). But there was another, more important seed planted by that film that I did not link back until much later in life–a seed of social justice. In A Chorus Line I was exposed to a kind of diversity that did not exist in my sheltered, middle-class world at that time. The cast of characters auditioning for the chorus line were Black, and Puerto Rican, and gay, and too "old" to be dancers. They were pursuing their dream and pushing back against the barriers that society put in front of them. They were personifying grit, ambition, drive, passion, and hard work. I was all in. My mom was right, much of that film went over my head at nine-years-old, but the important stuff sunk into my heart, my bones, my muscles, my sinew. The value of the artists I saw on screen, emulations of the artists on the stage, created work that resonated and fostered my creative and critical thinking. It allowed me to dream and, eventually to claim many parts of my identity that have helped me to continue to birth my images into the world. So, yes, oh yes, I am an artist and I am excited to bring this vision of art into downtown Bangor and ARTober through The Spiral Goddess Collective (and some of it in the slideshow above!). I'll be posting more about the art that decorates our Collective space though I do consider the space to be a work of art in and of itself. American fitness is one of my areas of specialization. I teach a class at the University of Maine at Augusta on the topic and I wrote a book about it, published almost a decade ago: Women and Fitness in American Culture. Not a lot of people have read my book, but not a lot of people want to read my book because it requires that we face the myths of American culture that promise that if we work hard enough then we can have whatever we want. The reality is that no matter how hard we work, there are some things that just won't be available to us because of biology, or social structures, or the limitations of time and space. The idealized, fetishized, whitewashed, airbrushed "perfect body" is one of those things. So, if the "perfect body" does not actually exist—or at least if we can agree that it is out of our reach—we might think: why bother? Why am I doing all of these squats, counting all of these calories, tracking my every step, denying myself sleep and quality time with my family, and more, only to keep reaching toward an impossible goal? But it is not so much the things that were are doing, as it is the way we are approaching the things that we are doing. For starters, the more we beat ourselves up—mentally and physically, metaphorically and realistically—the less likely it is that we are going to meet even the most modest of goals, The mindset we have when we approach physical activity shapes the results, or lack of results, that we get. The language we use to talk about fitness, health, and wellness is part of the problem. Here are some words and phrases that you will not hear at The Spiral Goddess Collective, a Center for Mind/Body Movement: shred, swole, grind, results, plateau, workout, goals, cheat day, gym, in shape/out of shape, burn it off, no pain no gain, high impact, routine, regimen, work off that ____ that you ate last night, go harder, move faster, calories in calories out. These words and phrases fit a philosophy that punishes the mind and body and sets a standard that is nearly impossible to achieve. We chase the dreams of perfection offered by products and services that will never be able to deliver what the glossy images and catchy names and taglines promise. At The SGC there is no scale to weigh yourself and the only mirror you will find is above the sink in the bathroom and it is surrounded by positive affirmations. When we "weigh" our fitness by different measurements, when we see ourselves without the negative self-image lurking in the background, we can start to transform ourselves and our lives. We change the way we show up for ourselves and the ways in which we carry ourselves. We change the way we relate to people and the ways in which we show up for the people we love. Every body is different and there are no simple answers, no simple solutions, no magic pills, no miracle workouts. American fitness is a sham and we have bought into it individually and collectively exactly because sometimes it works. But if you have been riding that roller coaster of weight loss and weight gain, if you have been stuck in that perpetual loop of not enough or too much, if you have tried all the diets and specialized equipment and you still aren't happy with what you look like—then something has to change. That something is not you—that something is the larger culture that shapes these trends, but changing the way you think about yourself and the way that you approach fitness is an important start. Here are some words and phrases that speak to our offerings at the SGC, a Center for Mind/Body Movement: mind/body and mind/body/spirit (those were obvious, weren't they?!), practice, authenticity, neuroplasticity, process, trauma-informed, balance, nervous system, functional movement, holistic, whole body, do what feels good, in the moment, listening to our bodies, health at every size, feminism, pleasure, joy, embodiment, rest, relaxation, mindfulness, contemplation, feel it to heal it, meditation, mental health, tap into your inner guide, feel, breathe, opening space in our minds and bodies. What happens when we change the language that we use to describe our fitness routines? When we don't think about moving our body as "working out"? What happens when we change the ways we approach moving our bodies? Now, I hate to make it more complicated, but that's what I do. Many of these words have also been morphed into the world of manufactured fitness and have been sold back to us as part and parcel of the world of American Fitness. (Stay tuned for my newest book, American Yoga Demystified!) Yoga is big business and as people start to realize and recognize the benefits found in mind/body approaches to health, wellness, and fitness, ancient practices (and modern innovations on these practices) are becoming even more commodified. The market is being saturated with inexpensive online yoga teacher training programs (especially since covid proved that we could do anything online if we wanted it badly enough), branded yoga approaches, stylish (and expensive) outfits, specialized gear, luxury spa vacations, and more "self-care" practices that bypass conversations about responsibility, integrity, and social (in)equality. In fact the good old "perfect body" myth has been rebranded as the "yoga body," and sometimes more specifically, the "yoga booty." This is the new whitewashed, fetishized, airbrushed ideal and it is just as toxic as the old one. So, now that we're feeling pretty discouraged, let me share some hope. We can—literally and figuratively—change our minds whenever we want to. And when we change our minds, we also change our bodies. And when we change our bodies and minds, we shift our relationship to ourselves. We learn to move authentically and to approach movement as practices rather than routines and regimens. We learn to love ourselves and to be compassionate to ourselves and this transforms the way we are in the world and the ways in which we interact with others and react to stressful situations. We learn to respond rather than react. We learn to let go of unrealistic expectations, to be in our bodies as they are, and to respect other people's bodies as they are. Maybe this all sounds too good to be true. How can changing the way we think about ourselves and the way we think about how we move our bodies transform us? The only answer is another question: how do we know if we don't even try? I have spent well over two decades working in the world of fitness. At times, the fitness world was my only source of friends and the people I worked with—fellow instructors and participants—became like a family. Even though I never felt like I fit in, I found comfort through sharing my talents as a fitness instructor—it was something that I was good at and something that made a difference in people's lives. Teaching fitness classes also saved my life on more than one occasion and helped keep me motivated to keep my body moving while working toward my career as a professor (which requires many long hours of sitting!).
At first, the world of fitness was a safe box where there were rules and expectations that made me feel safe to move and to lead groups of participants. We step up and down on our steps executing familiar moves, which is a kind of metaphor for American fitness more generally. I could be creative within this box of expectations, but I found it increasingly difficult to play by the rules. After completing my JourneyDance™ training at the end of April in 2022, I knew I had outgrown this fitness box and all I wanted to do was teach yoga and JourneyDance. The facility where I taught accommodated my new passion, but there was not a lot of room for me on the schedule and what I was teaching was unfamiliar and scary to many of the people who took the safe, reliable "manufactured fitness" programs. I started looking for new spaces, but I kept hitting brick walls. Although I had dreamed for years about having my own space and doing my own thing, I never thought that it could be a reality. I have a very full-time job and I offer a lot of free classes and programs; it has worked pretty well this way for many years. . . and space was just a dream until I saw the writing on the window across the street after a massage appointment. Less than two weeks later I found myself signing a lease and starting a business—two things I never thought I would do. But here I am. And this space has grown a new dream, a vision for The Spiral Goddess Collective, a Center for Mind/Body Movement—a place to teach my style of yoga and JourneyDance™. But not just to teach some classes, to also imagine a different way of approaching "fitness"—a way that resonates with me, but is largely unavailable in other spaces. I imagine this space—the 4th floor of 16 State Street in the Clark Building—to be a space of possibility, transformation, and maybe even a revolution in how people approach "fitness" in Bangor. I dream big and I invite you to do the same. 8/20/2022 0 Comments For Indigenous People's Day . . . A Space with a View, A Center with a ViewpointLand acknowledgements have begun to be standard practice for many institutions and organizations, as well as for yoga teachers and studios. These statements aren't just an act of bending to the political climate--they are a recognition that the power-over practices of the past continue to reverberate into the present day, impacting the physical, mental, social, cultural, and economic wellness of individuals, communities, and our nation and keeping inequalities firmly in place.
Toward the larger goals of social justice, it is important to recognize that where we are and what we do does not exits in a vacuum. Both the land and the traditions of indigenous peoples influence and support the work we do at The Spiral Goddess Collective as well as the work that all of us who participate in conscious dance and yoga, specifically, and modern life, generally, participate in and benefit from. What does this mean? Part of our work is not just to acknowledge our debt to indigenous people's and traditions, but also to continue to educate ourselves, to honor these roots, and to participate in and support ongoing indigenous movements toward, individual, cultural, and collective healing and self-determination. This work is ongoing but it is only a beginning. Downtown Bangor and The Clark Building, and thus The Spiral Goddess Collective, a Center for Mind/Body Movement, exist on the unceded homelands of the sovereign people of the Wabanaki Confederacy: the Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, Maliseet, and Mi'kmaq people. The Kenduskeag Stream, a tributary or the Penobscot River, dominates the view from the windows at the front of the SGC center. The Penobscot River continues to be contested territory in the centuries-long struggle for stewardship toward ensuring a healthy ecosystem for all of Maine. Also framed from this view is the monument to Charles O. Howard, the victim of a hate crime in 1984. While walking down the street, Howard and his boyfriend were harassed for being gay and then Howard was assaulted and thrown over the bridge into the Kenduskeag Stream where he died by drowning. This, too, is a legacy for our land. On a wall near the Howard memorial is one of my favorite examples of street art and my favorite bird. It seems apt that some of the meanings and symbolism of the hummingbird include: "signals that challenging times are over and healing can begin. . . . an inspiring sign of hope and good luck. Hummingbirds also can have a spiritual significance and mean the spirit of a loved one is near." Bangor, and the State of Maine, are microcosms for the United States where movements for social justice have been ebbing and flowing since before the U.S. officially became a country. As a part of the legacies of racism, sexism, white supremacy, and imperialism we honor the land where we live, love, breathe, work, and find community. We acknowledge that here in the U.S. what we have was built on stolen land and by forced labor. We pay back this debt by keeping our eyes, ears, minds, and hearts open and settling for nothing less than justice, equity, peace, and love. Finally, yoga's roots are thousands of years old and are part of a larger set of traditions from indigenous practices from India, Africa, and other regions in the world--there is nothing new about embodied practices, but many have been lost, forgotten, or forced out of our cultural norms. The yoga practiced and taught at The SGC, a Center for Mind/Body Movement, draws on a variety of traditions, mixing styles and approaches that blend breathing, embodied movement, and meditation. Sarah writes more about these practices and approaches in her blog and in her forthcoming book, American Yoga Demystified: Creative/Critical Insights for a Complex World and an Evolving Mind and Body. On Indigenous People's Day, Monday, October 10th, 2022, we will not hold classes, and I hope we will hold the weight of indigenous peoples and practices, past, present, and future, in our hearts and minds. Here are a couple of resources if you want to learn more about The Wabanaki Confederacy: Four Directions and the Wabanaki Alliance. |
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