Newsflash: “Skinny White Women” Haven’t “Ruined Yoga”Posted on Dec 3, 2014 in Blog
As a proud member of the Yoga and Body Image Coalition, I’m pleased to see public discussion of the problems of having yoga so strongly associated with images of bendy-pretty white women (finally) taking off. As an “older yogi” who’s also been around the block a few times, however, I’m also well aware that progress on one set of difficult issues inevitably generates new ones in its wake. In this case, I’ve become concerned that the well-justified backlash against the role of “skinny white girl” imagery in contemporary yoga culture is encouraging some misguided, and at times misogynistic put downs of people who happen to fit that demographic.
In her recent Quartz article, “How Americans Ruined Yoga for the Rest of the World,” Michelle Garcia reports how disgusted she was to find that even in what should rightfully be the white chick-free zone of the “new studio around the block from my apartment in Harlem,” the receptionist working the front desk was a “blonde waif with a face scrubbed free of character.” Her contempt for such bimbos is palpable: “This is the land of pricy Lululemon gear where yogis fit their lotus between a mani/pedi and a cocktail . . . Only in yoga will people chant in a foreign language, oblivious to the meaning of the words and then closely examine their curves in pants now worn by porn stars.”
What shallow idiots, right? What stupid women.
Stereotypes and Misogyny
To be fair, Garcia goes on to say some positive things about yoga (“it works”), highlighting examples of work that’s “changing the conversation about yoga and femininity.” By the time we get there, however, we’ve already gotten the message that the specific group of Americans that has “ruined yoga for the rest of the world” is none other than that same herd of self-absorbed, body-obsessed white women who colonized her Harlem studio. These people, it’s suggested, are contemptibly shallow, happily trampling an ancient spiritual practice in the dirt in the stampede to hone their “yoga butts.”
Just because a woman wrote this article doesn’t mean there can’t be any misogyny there. On the contrary, it’s incredibly common for members of socially stereotyped groups to internalize many of the powerful cultural messages relayed to them via that typecasting, whether they want to or not. Even women who’ve worked hard to develop a strong feminist consciousness can find themselves falling into thought patterns that reduce other women – and/or themselves – to dehumanized objects, rather than multi-dimensional beings.
And, of course, there is a racial angle at play here as well. Everyone is well aware that the ubiquitous “yoga babe” image is prototypically white. As always, this intersection of race and gender carries a particular cultural valence (which in this case, it should be added, also has a distinctively upper-middle class “aspirational” dimension as well). Stereotypically, this white feminine imaginary may be celebrated as a representation of happiness, serenity, and “niceness.” By the same token, however, it’s not championing female intelligence, courage, or power.
As a result, it’s easy for the reaction against “yoga babe” imagery to conflate pretty white women with shallow stupidity in real life. When this happens, the power of the stereotype remains intact: it’s simply turned around from being an object of “inspiration” to one of denigration. Either way, however, the true humanity of the flesh-and-blood, body and soul person whose looks fit that basic mold is erased.
Just yesterday, the webzine Well + Good published an article asking “Does Yoga Have a Skinny White Girl Problem?” The provocative title had little to do with the post’s content, which was a nice report on the Yoga and Body Image Coalition. But, this popular site knows its click bait. There’s more than one way of exploiting images of pretty white women: If it’s not time to idealize them, you can always hate on them.
Reaction vs. Liberation
In all honesty, I can relate to the sense of rage Garcia expressed in discovering that what she’d assumed to be a personally safe, culturally comfortable space (i.e., a local studio in her Harlem neighborhood) seemed instead to have been colonized by women whose self-presentation alienated her on a deep, visceral level. Back when I first started exploring the yoga blogosphere in 2010, I was scandalized, upset, and disoriented to discover that something like “yoga for weight loss” was infinitely more popular than anything I cared about when it came to yoga. And while I’ve more or less come to terms with it, I still often find the endless parade of images of impossibly skinny, pretty, bendy young white yoga babes in print and social media deflating and depressing.
But, I also know that while this much-hyped “yoga body” is a maddeningly effective sales tool, it’s not real life. This isn’t to say that it’s not important in the “real world”: on the contrary, it most certainly is. (At least, as much as anything is today that doesn’t directly address our most pressing issues, like climate change.) But the reason it’s important is because it’s a cultural symbol. As such, it doesn’t even try to represent the true complexity of a real human being. On the contrary, the unstated goal is precisely the opposite: to reduce us (or at least, those of us who are part of the targeted demographic) to a simpler, and presumably more manageable version of ourselves.
The yoga babe image that’s now causing such a backlash taps into a lot of highly charged tropes concerning the meaning of beauty, control, power, respectability, and achievement. But, like all successful commercial imagery, it’s designed to sell some targeted demographic the sense that they can easily obtain these qualities by buying into this one neat package (whether literally or figuratively). Thus, those who identify with the image find it “inspiring.” Those who don’t identity with it may alternatively find it irrelevant, hurtful, or enraging. Very often, however, it provokes a strong emotional response – even when we might wish that it didn’t.
What we really need are better alternatives, not angry reactions. That’s why the work of the Yoga and Body Image Coalition is so important. We understand that this movement is not about tearing down pretty-bendy white women, or anyone else. On the contrary, it’s about defusing the power of cultural tropes that define the “yoga body” in terms of stereotypical feminine imagery. To the extent it’s successful, it will be liberating for anyone who’s affected by such imagery – which means most of us, as it’s exceedingly rare to have advanced in your practice enough to have fully unraveled the imprint of such cultural conditioning.
Yoga is hard work. But when we support each other in our practice, it’s a lot easier – and more fun. We don’t have to be driven by negative emotions to participate in projects of cultural critique and political change. Working together, we can co-create a joyful process of conscious evolution.