Moving on…

I have been teaching Nia since 2006 and have devoted 17 years of my life to sharing this practice. Throughout this time, the movement has been like a balm for my body and soul; it has soothed me in places that I didn’t know existed. Over the years, I have received so much personal connection, pleasure and joy from the pairing of the movement and music and I deeply value the friendships and the community spirit. For all these years, I have believed so strongly that Nia was responsible for my healing and I wanted everyone to know about it.

I have been passionate about sharing the practice widely and making it physically and financially accessible so that more people could attend my classes. I have taught Nia in a wide variety of venues that serve people living with diverse physical, cognitive or mental health conditions and it has been my absolute pleasure to be able to adapt it to meet people where they are at. I have marketed Nia endlessly and tirelessly over the years in so many different ways. I shared my healing journey through Nia at workshops, festivals, conferences, in (national) newspapers, magazines, published books (3 of them), podcasts, blog posts, videos and all over social media.  I deeply wanted it to be enjoyed by others and in some ways, felt a responsibility for sharing it. Thinking back, every once in a while someone would say, “You do more marketing for Nia than Nia Headquarters (HQ) does!” I would brush it off and say “I have lots of time to do it!”  As I said, I felt a duty to share it. 

Around 2015 I began learning about body positivity, inclusivity and anti-racism. I began learning about my privilege as a white cis-gendered woman and started critically thinking about my social justice responsibilities as a fitness instructor.  Outside of Nia I started learning about how I could continue bettering my relationship with my body. I learned about systems of oppression that were responsible for why I had a tumultuous relationship with my body. This led me to learn about the systems of oppression that were responsible for upholding my privilege and perpetuating others’ marginalization(s). I started to see how systems and frameworks of “how we do things” in fitness in general and in Nia specifically were actually exclusionary.  I began to realize how maintaining the status quo sustained and fueled these oppressive systems. I was hopeful that this learning could become a part of a larger conversation with my Nia colleagues. I was optimistic that we could create a welcoming culture of safety for everybody to receive the benefits of the practice the way that I had. I knew that it would take some time and education to get this conversation happening as I had witnessed some really oppressive & racist comments and interactions over the years*. I didn’t let that deter me. I was super keen to use my voice and have this important discussion about making a positive social impact through our practice. 

So in 2019 when I was invited to join the Nia Training Faculty, I embraced it as an opportunity to “be the change” I wanted to see in the Nia world. I longed to see Nia shared with those who might not have physical or financial access and those who didn’t already see themselves represented within the wider Nia community. In 2020 after the tragic murder of George Floyd, the leadership team at Nia HQ agreed to the creation of a grassroots-led Diversity, Equity & Inclusion (DEI) Council. I was excited to be one of over 20 Nia teachers on this council delving into DEI issues that aligned with my personal goals of broadening the membership of Nia.  We met regularly and volunteered our time to carefully craft a framework under which Nia could move forward with DEI work. Unfortunately, after working together for 18 months, we were abruptly dismissed and the resistance to change became apparent. DEI was not a priority for the leadership team. This was extremely frustrating and diminishing and I certainly felt disillusioned, but I didn’t give up on my goal. 

Throughout my time working to become a trainer**, I attended many meetings and, along with a few colleagues, shared perspectives related to how certain Nia concepts and practices could be “tweaked” to support moving towards a more fair and equitable practice that would be welcoming for everybody. Instead of being received with openness and curiosity, those social justice oriented viewpoints were mainly met with defensiveness and anger. Often social change-oriented suggestions/comments were responded to with lengthy confusing and disorienting messages which made me feel like I was the problem. Ultimately, these ideas were typically quickly dismissed. It was starting to feel like the inclusivity conversation I was longing to have wasn’t going to be possible. Top-down power dynamics and a clear hierarchy within the faculty meant that I didn’t have a voice and I wasn’t perceived as an equal in this group.

During this time, I worked closely with my friend, colleague and fellow trainer Teresa Myers to bring DEI concepts to our Nia workshops and trainings. Given Teresa’s professional and lived experience and my self-study, I felt that we were able to share the material sensitively through an anti-oppression lens. We did this successfully until, during our very first White Belt training our trainees began to express concerns about the Nia material they were being asked to review. I believe we attracted a group of trainees who themselves were social justice advocates, and so they were seeing aspects of the curriculum that were not in line with their values. They asked questions which we didn’t have answers for (e.g., when will the training material reflect DEI values? Why are we talking about the gender binary? Why is weight loss being celebrated as a moral victory?). During one of these conversations, one person looked at me and said, “Jenn, you said this would be safe. You said this training was DEI-focused.” They were clearly hurt, and I felt horrible. I knew what I delivered came through a social justice lens, but the rest of the material didn’t and was causing harm. I was causing harm. The moral injury of violating my own values left me feeling guilty, shameful and deeply sad. I sincerely apologize for any harm I have caused. 

I knew then that I couldn’t continue with Nia. I couldn’t make excuses any longer.

I wrestled with myself and this decision for a long time, choosing to see what had served me in this practice and letting the rest go. When I started hearing other’s stories about their Nia experiences on “the podcast”, I realized that my own experiences weren’t isolated incidents. I learned that there are widespread dysfunctional dynamics and patterns within Nia that have caused suffering, harm and a lot of grief. I just can’t be part of that any longer. 

When I truly connect to my goal of ensuring that anti-oppression values are part of my fitness teaching and practice , it’s clear that Nia is not how I can do that. It makes me deeply sad, but after all the attempts to be part of the change, I now know that I can’t make this change and be part of Nia. 

I’m grateful for where Nia has taken me, but the world is changing, and I intend to be part of that positive social change. The world of social justice needs me, and I need the mentorship and growth I can find in it. 

*(Just 2 of many examples: when a new Nia clothing line came out, I asked HQ to not reserve the beautiful designs only for straight sized individuals. In response to my request I was shamed, berated and threatened; I have also witnessed members of the training faculty openly make fatphobic, racist and ableist remarks. I am embarrassed to say that at the time I excused these disturbing comments, dismissing them as merely isolated incidents. I now realize that the cognitive dissonance I was experiencing at this point had me dismissing and or making excuses for these terrible behaviours because Nia itself was “good” even if the people weren’t).

**(Although I paid a substantial amount of money to become a trainer, there was no actual training per se. I appreciated the opportunity for self reflection and how much I learned from peers & mentors, but there was actually no teaching at all).