Emily Howlett: When good yoga goes bad

A few years ago, I had an actor friend stay with me for about 4 months while she was working at the city theatre near where I live.

It was so lovely to be able offer a home-from-home space to someone who was working away from their own that I’ve done it a number of times since.

But let’s focus on that first friend for a second.

She had only been here a week or two, when she started disappearing regularly on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings (actors work basically the opposite hours to the rest of the world).

Obviously, I assumed she was up to no good and, being Deaf, I wasn’t one to beat about the bush.

So I asked her outright, “Are you up to no good?”

Turns out she was actually up to some Very Good. She was taking herself off to yoga.

Hot yoga. Sweaty and stretchy and entirely not my kind of thing. But she seemed quite happy, and it was helping her relax away from home and, y’know, at least it wasn’t drugs. 

Imagine my delight, then, when another actor came to stay with me recently, who I know is into those kind of healthy things, and who massively despairs of me because I’m.. well.. very much not. 

A quick Google showed that the yoga class was not only still in existence, but thriving.

Excited to be such a great host, I told my new guest all about it, fully expecting to earn back some hosting kudos and also my Monday/Wednesday/Friday mornings. (Actors, during the run of their show, are nocturnal, and must not be woken before lunchtime, which is difficult when I have noisy kids and am myself the biggest and noisiest one of the lot). 

Imagine my despair, then, when she came back from the first session not, as expected, relaxed and sweaty, but cross and sweary. It was the same class, the same instructor – but with one key difference. The actor friend who had gone along the first time, well… She can hear. This actor friend is Deaf. 

She speaks and lipreads fantastically. She’s one of those kids who gets all the “OH WOW you don’t look Deaf!” comments. So it wasn’t a communication breakdown… No.

The problem was, on arrival at the session, she’d introduced herself to the instructor and explained that she was Deaf. The instructor had seemingly taken this in her stride, and even spent most of the session sitting in front of my friend, making sure she could lipread clearly. 

So far so great. Lovely and inclusive! Where’s this problem?

Well, it comes after the session ended. The instructor came over to my friend and pulled her into a private room. She was confused, and a little hurt, and worried about her professional reputation. It was my friend’s fault. 

How so? Because at the start of the lesson, when they went round the group and all introduced themselves by name, she did not take the opportunity to reveal that she was Deaf. She had told the instructor, but she didn’t tell The Whole Room of Strangers.

Which meant the other people in the class may have thought it weird and unprofessional that the instructor gave her so much attention. 

And please could she make sure she announced it at the start of the next session, or, maybe, just not come back?

Now, I actually can’t even think where to begin with this. The fact that nobody has the right to ask anyone to ‘reveal’ ANYTHING about themselves? The fact that the instructor was worried about her reputation, when she’d been (apparently!) fantastically welcoming? The fact that the instructor is clearly morally deranged? Or the fact that, even though I wasn’t there, I would be happy to give a 100% guarantee that nobody else in that room gave a toss??

The ego! The insult! THE RIDICULOUSNESS OF THE WHOLE THING.

Man, I’d be raging for weeks. Except I’m not. And neither is she. Because, actually, it’s just another little fight in a life full of little fights. It’s exhausting being in a hearing space, sometimes. And all we can do it stick together, and keep going.

And, besides, it gave us an excuse to buy a tone of (very much not healthy) ice cream.

Emily Howlett is a profoundly Deaf actress, writer and teacher. She makes an awful lot of tea. And mess. She now has not one, but four grey eyebrow hairs. C’est la vie. She tweets as @ehowlett