Empowering Youth Through Yoga at Applewood Residential Treatment Center

Hope and Healing Stories

I can hear them before I see them. Chattering, laughing and milling by the door. Waiting for it to be unlocked. The girls come in as one entity and stop, suddenly quiet. They were expecting Emily who is on maternity leave. 

They are cautious around the unexpected. “Oh”, one of the girls whispers. “It's not Emily.” Emily is expected. I am not. 

“It’s ok,” says her friend, “I remember her.”

I tell them I have good news. “Emily had her baby. It’s a girl.” The volume in the room turns up. They ask for pictures. I’ve come prepared, and there are ooohs and ahhhhs as they crowd around my phone. “She’s beautiful, I think Emily will be a good mom,” says another. 

They set up their mats. Most gather around my mat but a newer girl heads to the corner of the space. Another of the girls chooses not to have a mat, and is told emphatically, “you have to have a mat!” 

I wait to see what she’ll decide, and she advocates for herself. She asks me, is it ok?  I say ancient yogis did not practice on mats. She smiles.  We get started with our check in. 

Today not all of the girls have something to share. After a pause, one of the girls offers, “I have a call tonight with my sister, but I know she won’t answer because I’ve had this time every week for 5 months and she never picks up.”  This is stated simply. No tears. Just a fact in her life. 

Another says,  “I have a call too, I get to talk to my mom. I hope she’s there but she might not be.” I thank them for sharing. Despite the emotions that rise up within me, I know it is important to acknowledge, hold space and continue moving through the class. 

We start our practice with the theme of worthiness. I ask the girls what worthiness means for them.. “It means you are worth something,” says one.

Yes. “That’s exactly what it means,” I say.

We do a mantra meditation around this theme and they choose something they are worthy of… peace, love, good food, sleep, feeling ok, healing. I know that sometimes feeling “just OK” is a good day. 

In trauma-informed yoga clients are encouraged to participate but also to have agency. They decide if they want to participate. The new girl in the corner chooses to sit quietly and watch. I hold space.

Much of yoga is about connection. When the nervous system is in a regulated state, there is a feeling of connection to the space within and the space around you. The word, yoga, means “to yoke”. People who have suffered trauma have trouble making those connections. As yoga teachers, we cue awareness. How the breath may connect us to movement, or feeling our feet on the floor might connect us to feeling grounded or centered. We guide and encourage agency and connection to the self. We support connections to the present moment through movement, breath or supportive shapes.  

As we continue through the practice, the energy settles. They love the neck and shoulder rolls (so does the employee who is present).As we stand up the energy escalates. One of the girls is struggling. Her movements become frantic. It is our friend who is calling her sister tonight. She begins to yell. We talk about respecting everyone’s practice, and we keep moving and breathing.  I suggest a game. She quiets but is still agitated. Her friend puts her hand on her shoulder. 

We settle on Hot Potato; whoever catches the “hot potato” has the opportunity to choose an inspirational card or a yoga pose card. My first “winner” chooses the yoga poses and is quite discerning. Frowning. Eliminating those that don’t resonate. Though the cards have been screened she sees one she tells me she doesn’t like. She finds Half Pigeon and leads the group into the pose. She chooses a variation called King Pigeon (which is challenging for most) and drops into it flawlessly. I applaud her efforts and get a smile. The first one of the session for her. She is the girl who chose not to use a mat. 

We continue and move into Savasana. There are arguments about the lights (on or off). We keep them on. And they are allowed to choose a heart-shaped bean bag to hold. One says “who made these?”

I say, “my mom, she sews them just for you.” She says, “these are nice, do you think she’d make some we can keep?” I tell her I’ll ask her when I see her, but I think she will. 

The girls choose their spots in the room to relax for Savasana or resting pose. Some like the wall. Some lay on their bellies or their sides and some sit up. Only one chooses her back. No one closes their eyes. We rest. 

Until the next time I teach, I see them in my mind's eye. I hear them at odd moments during my day. They stay with me. They are worthy.

These are our teachers. THIS is Hope in Balance Yoga at Fostering Hope.