Movement: A tool for collective Black liberation
My initial experiences with movement practices like yoga and pilates actually hindered my connection to it. Moving in classes with people that didn’t look like me and being taught by the same, eventually took a toll. Navigating these spaces also brought complicated feelings and questions of appropriation through the wellness industry’s delivery of yoga. I also often felt pressured to ignore my body's cues in these classes, by holding poses that didn’t feel good in fear that I would be judged or corrected by the instructor if I didn’t. Even before I took my first yoga class—which wasn’t until university—the industry in North America has been telling a story about who it wants to appeal to, for quite some time.
My socialization in middle and high school played a role in how I understood who these spaces were made for. There’s something to be said about who wore brand name yoga clothing head to toe, while I rocked Phat Farm and Converse. These experiences inevitably led me to write these practices off as just not for me and naively even accepted it as not for us - Black women as a collective.
Now, although there is much to critique about the state of movement and wellness as an industry, this piece is about my changed perspective on movement as a practice. It’s important that I laid out my past experiences because today, moving my body is really about reclamation. It’s about reclaiming a tool that can be utilized to preserve our bodies and minds in a world that is consistently trying to break, harm and challenge our livelihoods.
“Finding time for self-preservation is easier said than done. It can easily shape shift into guilt if we’re not careful.”
I’ve felt grateful and privileged to have found moments to reflect on the concept of the purpose of self-care in between the pandemic voids. I believe that preserving an intentional relationship with myself is a service to my community. Taking care of ourselves is in service of community, simply because we bring so much into the spaces we occupy in society. This can include our woeful experiences, which are often a call to slow down and rejuvenate ourselves. However, in a capitalist society, we’re told to push through no matter what. There is an alternative. Not pausing or taking moments for ourselves is not sustainable and now more than ever, we can see that slowing down is vital for our survival.
Finding time for self-preservation is easier said than done. It can easily shape shift into guilt if we’re not careful. Having said that, taking time to move our bodies is not selfish. I see it as community care. Don’t just take my word for it—this Well + Good article includes quotes by none other than Angela Davis. She shares about her years of experience practicing yoga, the need for self-care and how it prepares her for to be more effective in the face of struggle. My favourite quote is as follows, “As a result of yoga I am more energetic…I am able to appeal to people and to organize them to do the kinds of things that are vital to our freedom.” This is just it, movement as a tool for collective liberation.
Reclaiming movement as a self-care tool can provide us with more opportunities to show up better for our communities, our relationships and the one common denominator within all of those things, ourselves.
A large part of this reclamation process can be attributed to a movement teacher training program that I’m currently participating in. This program is led by a Hamilton, Ontario based studio called GoodBodyFeel. This studio’s mantra, leadership and overall culture is radical about bringing your full self to their spaces as you are. The GoodBodyFeel method is a recognition and practice of accessible and inclusive movement practices, from the poses that are taught in class, to the exclusive spaces for BIPOC people, to the sliding scale class fees. GoodBodyFeel’s approach has opened my eyes to avenues I hadn’t really considered, thinking of the possibilities of movement.
“Reclaiming movement as a self-care tool can provide us with more opportunities to show up better for our communities, our relationships and the one common denominator within all of those things, ourselves. ”
As said by Audre Lorde, “caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation and that is an act of political warfare.” Caring for ourselves is a way to care for our community. It’s an act of resistance. The bottom line is this: we have the right and the agency to move our bodies in ways that feel good. It’s a beautiful thing to explore, to find your breath and hold yourself first. It’s one step in a long and winding process to liberation: a step that we can always come back to, as a mode to reset, step back and push forward.
Take this as a loving push to move your body and take time for yourself. But if you’re like me, and that’s hard to do, take this as a loving push to move your body for the collective, for your community, and for the movement.