Yes, I Let My Yoga Students Be Loud Before Class. Here’s Why.

Every Sunday morning for the last seven years, I have walked into a noisy room filled with students to teach a heated vinyasa class. Noisy as in locker room, celebratory night out, restaurant level noisy. It’s a far cry from the quiet shalas I spent years practicing in, spaces where so much as a whisper was frowned upon.

I am a rule follower by nature. I respect a “shhh quiet” policy that some studios and teachers enforce. But as a teacher, I have learned to welcome—and even love—that noise.

The sounds before class are that of excitement, joy, and connection. Friends and strangers chatting, catching up, making plans. When I hear that noise, I think about all the other places where strangers come together and see familiar faces over and over, including working out at gyms and standing in line at the coffee shop. Yet as humans, how often do we strike up a quick conversation with someone we don’t know?

I think it’s nice to be able to use that time to connect. I have even started some classes with the encouragement, “If you find yourself next to someone new, introduce yourself.” I figure people are more likely to come back if they know someone, if they feel part of the group, if they share in the buzz. Noise takes away the intimidation that silence can carry.

Of course, it’s important for everyone to be able to find their zen before their asana practice begins, and I support and facilitate that silence. So when the time comes, I invite students to quiet the internal and external chatter to give everyone a chance to center themselves. Conversations wrap up, and as we start to focus on our breath, the energy in the room shifts.

What doesn’t change is the feeling of the studio being a safe place with practitioners who are more than strangers to one another.

Only once before class have I heard a loud “SHHHHH!” from someone in the room. I quickly hopped on the mic and said, “I am fine with chatter in this room. I promise we will have time to center.” If I notice the room is getting more boisterous than normal or there are quite a few new people in class, I briefly explain as students enter that this is a fun group and that I view the noise as sounds of joy and I welcome it.

The chatter and laughter also allow people to relax. I think of the time years ago when I accidentally made a noise as I put my mat down in a silent room. I felt like everyone was going to stare at me. There is an undeniable laid-back vibe that before-class noise creates. My class is a safe space for students to show up however they need and they know that. Those 15 or so minutes before class begins is their time as much as it is mine.

There are other ways I do my best to meet students where they are. I offer modifications, remind them to always listen to their bodies first, and explain that it is a strength to know when to take rest. If I notice my class is moving slower than usual, I slow things down and I divert from the sequence I had planned. If it’s someone’s birthday, I sneak in a birthday song on the playlist. If someone tells me they need to leave early to make it to work, I help ensure they can set up near a door. Making it to their mat at 8 am on Sunday morning to spend time practicing yoga is enough for me.

This space and these students have reciprocated this safety to me. I know that I can show up as my most authentic self with this group. If I want to try a new transition or asana I haven’t taught, test a new cue, or introduce a new song on the playlist, this is the class where I do it.

Not long after I started teaching this class, I noticed how special it was. I am always okay with chattiness before any of my classes, but Sunday is my biggest  class and innately chattier. At some point, I can’t remember when, I decided not to fight the chatter. Sunday morning chatter somehow gave way to Sunday morning regulars. Students have brought their neighbors, coworkers, siblings, spouses, parents, and adult children to class. It’s turned into the most beautiful community. There is even a group of students that meets for coffee in the courtyard after class. I wonder what would have happened if I embraced the shush and asked for a silent room? How much longer would it have taken for students to learn a stranger’s name? It is incredible to witness the connection created in class spill over into life.