Systemic Issues in the Yoga Industry

This is a copy of the October Newsletter sent out to my Yoga Teachers' mailing list. It includes a free yoga sequence, playlist and information about any upcoming events, trainings or retreats I've got coming up. To sign up to get all the extras, click here.

I’ve been sitting with the puzzle of how to improve the state of the yoga industry and place in it for a long while now—seven or eight years, at least. And like so many of us socialized as women, I initially focused on what I could do to fix my own situation: work harder, give more, be better. 

And part of that was true. I did need to work on my craft. I did need more education, training, experience, coaching, mentorship, and therapy.

But recently, reading Kristin Neff’s Fierce Self-Compassion helped me name something deeper. Some of the barriers we face as yoga teachers aren’t personal. They’re systemic.

Many of the challenges we experience around earning a living are rooted in the same forces that shape so much of society: patriarchy, colonialism, white supremacy, and capitalism.  These are the forces that shape our world, so why would this industry be exempt? Because it’s rooted in a spiritual practice? Definitely not.

The “Ick” of Charging Money for Yoga

Let’s talk about money. Or more specifically — the “ick” so many teachers feel about asking for it.

A few months ago, on a mentorship call, a mentee said to me:

“I don’t want people to miss out on yoga because they can’t afford it. But I also… can’t afford not to charge for it.”

Oof. I felt that like a stone on my chest.

Yoga teachers tend to have this really generous, mama-earth part who wants to give yoga away for free and help everyone — like Oprah handing out cars in the early 2000s.

“YOU GET A NEW CAR! YOU GET A NEW CAR! YOU ALL GET A NEW CAAAAR!”

And then we have this other part that knows: rent is due, groceries are necessary, and passion doesn’t pay the hydro bill.

Thus, tension and guilt are born from charging for our services.

The mama-earth + Oprah-giving-away-cars part thinks: “If I were really spiritual, I’d do this for free. If I were really honouring yoga's roots... I wouldn't be charging for this.”

But let's get one thing really clear:

Being able to offer your labour for free is a privilege.

(Yes, that line is in giant font because we sometimes have a hard time hearing it.)

Being able to teach for free or do any work for free usually means your survival isn't tied to your income. And in our society, that safety net has historically belonged to white men.

Now let me ask you this... Are white men the ones mostly working in yoga? Definitely not. Why is that, do you think? Let's unpack it further.

A Look at the System: Yin Labour vs. Yang Labour

In her book Fierce Self-Compassion, Kristin Neff describes two qualities of work:

• Yin labour — emotional labour, care-taking, sensitivity, creativity, relational awareness.

• Yang labour — action, direction, assertiveness, structure, strategy.

Both live in all of us, regardless of gender. To believe that only women are capable of performing Yin labour and only men are capable of performing Yang labour, or even believing that certain genders have more of a propensity toward Yin or Yang labour based on their hormones, is called having a gender bias (read Kristin's book if you want to dig further into that). The fact of the matter is that our culture prizes Yang labour—the sharp, productive, measurable kind—while undervaluing Yin labour, the relational, emotional, and intuitive kind.

Sound familiar? Is Yin labour not the majority of what most people would say makes up a thriving yoga studio culture, and the traits of a successful yoga teacher?

Folks socialized as women are often praised for being sweet, kind, and other-oriented, but discouraged from being assertive or self-advocating. When we’re nurturing, we’re underpaid because we aren't trusted with high-stakes roles and responsibilities; when we’re direct, we’re labelled “cold” or “unstable” and also denied such roles which come with higher pay rates.

The yoga industry, built largely on Yin labour, celebrates teachers who are selfless givers—people who dedicate their lives to serving others. Yet behind the scenes, we know this imbalance has led to exploitation and burnout.

So let’s name it clearly:

This isn’t a personal failing. It’s a systemic issue.

(Yes, again with the giant font. Louder!!! For the people in the back!!!)

All these factors tell us that the struggle to charge fairly isn’t just about money.

It’s about how society devalues emotional labour—the care, presence, and attunement we offer.

It’s about gender and race.

It’s about who’s been told, “Your time matters,” and who’s been conditioned to give without expecting anything in return.

As one teacher said to me:

“I’ve never seen a straight white man walk into a room and question what he’s worth.”

And yet here we are—second-guessing ourselves for charging $100 for a private session that took years of study, thousands of yoga classes taught, and thousands of unpaid hours of practice to master.

I remember quoting someone just last year on a 6-pack of private lessons, stating that it would cost $600. I mumbled the number under my breath and fully avoided eye contact, my stomach tightening. Like, “Oh god, please don’t think I’m a terrible person for charging you for my services.” But also, WHAT!? Isn’t that how paying for services works?

A Helpful Reframe on Charging Money in the Yoga Industry

Yes, yoga comes from a tradition where teachings were offered freely, supported by community exchange.

But we don’t live in a barter economy. We live in capitalism. And we have to eat.

Charging money for yoga isn’t a betrayal of the yogic tradition—it’s a necessary adaptation.

Honouring yoga’s roots means treating it as valuable.

When we value something, we invest in it. We find a way.

How many times have you said you "can't afford something" but then find the money for the things you really do want? A friend of mine once lived on canned soup for a month to afford a designer bag. She could arguably afford to take herself out for dinner or buy more diverse groceries, but she didn't because she wanted the bag. I once taught workshop after workshop, month after month, to pay for flights to my next ashram training. I could have just stuck with my group classes and private clients, but I wanted the additional training. So you figure it out. If we want something, we find a way to afford it because we value it.

If we want yoga to live on—not just for us teachers who love to teach, but for our communities—we have to make it sustainable for teachers to stay in it for the long haul.

That might mean:

• Raising your rates.

• Offering scholarships only when your business model supports them.

• Redefining what generosity and integrity actually look like.

Please hear me when I say:

You can be kind, community-rooted, and spiritual—and also pay your rent.

You can offer something beautiful to the world—and get paid well for it.

You can live a life of care—without emptying yourself to do it.

A Note to the Yoga Studios

It’s also time for studios to start treating their businesses like businesses, not expensive hobbies.

Studios have a responsibility to create the conditions for teachers to be compensated fairly for their time and expertise. There’s a growing movement of coaches helping studios become truly sustainable—an infusion of healthy Yang energy into an overly Yin system.

I believe we’re in a time where the entire industry is upgrading:

• Studios are learning to operate as profitable, ethical businesses.

• Teachers are learning to value their creative energy as art and entrepreneurship.

It may take a decade or two for the full transformation, but change is happening.

In the meantime, be wise with how you use your energy. Choose what’s right for your well-being. Burnout takes years to recover from.

Don’t overload your plate. Let go of people-pleasing. Focus on mastery. Teach for yourself. Keep loving what you do.

(I'm still learning the above, too.)

And when it all starts to feel hopeless—because it will, sometimes—step back. Rest. Regroup. Find a teacher pal to commiserate with and then get your butts in gear and put your freaking stunning, gorgeous, creative gifts out there. The world needs it ♥️ Want access to more thought-pieces like this one on the art and business of teaching yoga? There's more where this came from! This is a copy of the October Newsletter sent out to my Yoga Teachers' mailing list. It includes a free yoga sequence, playlist and information about any upcoming events, trainings or retreats I've got coming up. To sign up to get all the extras, click here.