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Seventeen years ago, after a long night with my college roommate, I reluctantly took my first hot yoga class. She had been begging me to join her for months, and the next morning I finally relented.
But as I entered the scorching hot room, I quickly realized I was completely unprepared. The fierce wind of fire burned my nostrils and I felt like I was melting from the inside. My friends had warned me it would be hot, but I didn’t expect it to be that hot.
As class started and the teacher started talking and didn’t stop, I felt like my life was slipping into a room that was like purgatory. I started sweating profusely. My clothes quickly became soaked and heavy. I began to hear breathing sounds that I could only assume were the roaring of a baby dragon. My vision constantly shifted between black tunnel vision and a blinding whiteout. I was truly suffering.
Feeling like death was near, I turned to my friend and angrily whispered, “How long is this damn class going to last?” She smirked and replied, “90 minutes.” I tiredly whispered back, “I hate you.”
Amazingly, I didn’t die, I still love my friend, and at the end of the class I felt like I’d spent time with the Creator and visited my ancestors. I never expected yoga to give me that exact same feeling I had in the kiva.
In my Pueblo culture, the kiva is a building at the center of the village where people gather each season. In the kiva we pray, sing, dance, and sweat, and sweat a lot. We move closer to the spirit world so that we can emerge from the kiva as a new creation.
That’s exactly how I felt after my first hot yoga class. My body felt superhuman, my spirit felt radiant. My senses were stimulated, as if I had just completed a traditional ritual. My skin felt brand new, my vision was clearer, and my breathing was completely calm. In my mind and spirit, I had left this world and spent time in a sacred space with my purest self.
In that moment, no power could take away my peace. Through this new, sweat-inducing practice, I could experience an intense connection with the Creator, and I didn’t even have to be on a reservation or in a kiva. I could perform the ritual on my mat every day.
So I did just that: I found a local place that offered hot yoga and went to class almost every day.
How to Share Ordinances
A few years after attending my first yoga class, I trained to be a yoga teacher. I wanted to share the experience of ritual with all. We all come from ancient movement rituals, ways of connecting with something bigger than ourselves. My prayer with each class was that yoga would help my students remember their own way of being and re-emerge as a new version of themselves.
I didn’t stray from the way I was taught. I taught simply, presented a set sequence, and left space between the words to allow people to experience their own ritual, regardless of their background or belief system.
A blessing for me was when students shared their experiences before and after class. They explained how yoga helped them heal injuries, tapered off medications, eased depression, and helped them overcome grief. As yoga teachers, we want to believe that yoga can be part of our students’ treatment, but when we see medications work, we know we are really on the right track.
I eventually opened my own hot yoga studio outside of Birmingham, Alabama, which I called Kiva Hot Yoga. I am always careful to keep my Pueblo ceremonies private and sacred, and I don’t share my ritual methods through my classes, but it is also sacred to be able to hold quiet space for others to hear their own answers.
After 10 years of running my yoga studio, I sold it and felt a calling to bring yoga to communities that didn’t have the opportunity to practice it. This spark eventually inspired me to lead a movement that aims to bring yoga to all Native communities in the US and Canada and revolutionize the health of many Native Americans and Indigenous peoples. In 2014, I founded the non-profit organization Native Strength Revolution, which serves over 6,000 Native brothers and sisters across the US and Canada through yoga classes, workshops, conferences, leadership trainings, and yoga teacher trainings.
I wanted to create a space where everyone could have access to in-person Native American-led classes and ultimately each tribe, nation, and Native American community would have their own yoga teacher, as many Native American communities experience widespread challenges such as diabetes, heart disease, addiction, suicide, domestic violence, and intergenerational trauma.
Our yoga teacher training is dedicated to serving indigenous communities and their challenges. To date, over 60 people have participated in our yoga teacher training with the goal of incorporating the unique and sacred nuances of their culture into their classes.
We ask everyone who signs up for our training, “Why do you want to take this training? What do you want to offer to the community?” Often their answer equates yoga with ritual. They each say, in different words, “We need more ritual, now and maybe forever.”
How our rituals honor the traditions of yoga
The Native Strength Revolution continues to grow through the shared vision of our team of yoga teachers. My vision to help heal Native communities by teaching yoga has been expanded by the 60 people committed to this heartfelt work. Carla Drumbeater created a yoga program for Native children at the Little Earth Housing Community in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Rose Whitehair started multigenerational yoga classes for Native families in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Waylon Pahona and Johanna Herrera have given keynote speeches at Native conferences across the U.S. and Canada, speaking about how movement heals our people.
After most classes, students tell us that yoga has been the most meaningful vehicle for their healing journey. Our teachers transform lives by teaching others how to have a culturally meaningful experience on the mat. Through a relationship with a trusted, familiar teacher, students begin to trust the yoga process. They become open to the possibility of connecting with new patterns. They remember that they are also connected to patterns older than themselves, patterns that connect our ancestors to something greater than themselves.
I have always done my best to respect the roots of yoga. I respect the scriptures and ancient texts by teaching their importance. There are similarities between yoga philosophy and indigenous teachings. While asanas and physical states are temporary, our words and actions impact ourselves, our communities, and our world for generations. Yet I respect the yoga teachings that have been passed down through the ancient texts. Indigenous people know when something is borrowed, diluted, or presented without respect. We want to see the beauty of its origins.
Through Native Strength Revolution trainings and ongoing gatherings, our team members continue to heal as individuals and grow as leaders. They want to be positive examples for their community, not just by practicing the best asana, but by living a life that honors the ancient teachings of yoga and the teachings of their ancestors. When you step onto your mat, you step into a ritual.
About the contributor
Kate Herrera Jenkins (Schwamitz [Turquoise]) is a member of Cochiti Pueblo, New Mexico. She completed her first yoga teacher training in 2009 and has since attended trainings with Bernie Clark, Jimmy Barkan, and Ryan Leyer. She is the founder of Native Strength Revolution. She also enjoys movement through traditional Pueblo dance, nia, strength training, and long distance running. She believes every moment is a moment of service, helping others find a connection with their own source.
