Group Class is a Group Experience – Behave!

Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen a class slowly sink into the mire because Hildegard had a bad day? Yup. Me too. Now, raise your hand if there’s a classmate you always look forward to seeing because they never fail to bring the level of fun up to 100? ME TOO. Most of us fall somewhere in between. Group classes are a shared experience – it’s not all about you, Hildegard! How do we make group classes awesome for everyone?

It’s Not All About You, Hildegard

In the interest of full disclosure, I have done every last thing I’m going to tell you not to do (just call me Hildegard). I’ve sulked, I’ve cried, I’ve pitched a veritable hissy fit in the middle of class. BUT. If you come away with one thing from circus, let it be that it’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Literally. I’ve since moved out of that torturous phase (thank goodness) and learned a lot along the way. Like what? I’m so glad you asked.

The Quick n Dirty Guide to Being a Rock Star in Group Classes

Look – we don’t feel like Pollyanna every day. I’m a moody somebody with lots of BIG FEELINGS and COMPLICATED EMOTIONS. When I’m in a private session, I have more leeway to let it all hang out, but what about group classes? How do we participate authentically without torturing our teacher and classmates? How do we support folks that are in the weeds? Let’s explore.

• Some days, the tears are right there behind your eyes. You’re emotional AF, and feel like a live wire. Been there! Oh, have I been there.
  • First, let your coach know (there’s nothing worse than giving a standard correction and having a student burst into tears). If appropriate, give your classmates a heads up too. “Hey friends! Sorry if I seem out of sorts, I’m having a really tough day today.” This gives your people an opportunity to support you and show you a little love! Of course, if that idea gives you hives, you can also keep it between you and your coach.
  • Second, remember that physical movement can provide a much-needed break from big emotions. A class, a run, a good stretch, etc all have to power to lift you out of that head space (even just temporarily) and help you get your feet back underneath you.
  • Third, set an intention for your class. Without getting too “woo” about it, approaching the class mindfully can help you resist the urge to dissolve into misery. “I will take this one hour and be here. I will focus on the sensations of my body, one minute at a time.”
  • Fourth, go for the easy wins. Friend, this is NOT the day to tackle your demons! No no no. Embrace the easy!
• Contain. Everyone has bad days. Everyone. But, when you are having a bad day, be aware that the energy you bring to class – positive or negative – has an effect on the group as a whole; the smaller and/or tighter the group, the more amplified the effect. Can you leave your terrible, horrible, no-good very-bad day in the lobby for one hour? Try it and see. I believe in you!
• Speaking of bad days, it’s a lovely thing to remember that your teacher is (gasp!) also human. You likely have no idea what they’re going through – terrible day, financial fears, family troubles, etc. Your coach has a lot to deal with if there’s more than one of you in the air, and Tatiana is climbing too high again after you’ve told her 12 times to keep it low, and your French isn’t good enough to communicate with Pat so you’re both using a weird English/French hybrid and les charades and they’re giving you the I-don’t-understand-a-word-you’re-saying look, and Biff got laid off, and Maria is doing that weird shoulder thing again, and why is it so freaking loud in this space, and so on. Do not torture your teacher.
• Think before you speak (this is a lesson I will struggle with in perpetuity). Before you ____________ (complain loudly, body shame yourself and by extension others, give unsolicited feedback on someone’s work, etc), ask yourself if your words are a) true b) necessary c) kind. Not kind or helpful? Consider just saying them in your head and maybe forgo the spoken version. Whisper them into your shirt if you need to.
• A core value in my classes is inclusion, and I hope it’s the same in your studio. I still have a lot to learn, and am often surprised by things I never considered or missed the first time. A big part of inclusion is making others feel welcomed into classes. I have some students I’ve mentally dubbed The Welcome Wagon, because they never fail to make new students feel welcome and included. Say hello to newbies or offer encouragement! Is there a culture of clique-y behavior in your studio? It doesn’t have to be that way! Be the change, people. Everyone wins! Be on the lookout for folks who are getting left out.

We are not always our best selves when we come to class – that’s just part of being human! We’ve all had bratty moments, found the tears impossible to hide, gotten stuck in an unbelievably crappy mood, taken a criticism really personally, or wanted to hibernate – sometimes all in the same class. The question to ask yourself is whether this is your weekly normal, or if it’s a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence. It’s worth remembering that we don’t train in a bubble (unless you actually do)! Love and pull-ups, Laura

You’re Not As Good as You Think You Are: The Dunning-Kruger Effect in Circus

As an aerial coach in NYC, I often bemoan one common experience with my fellow teachers: why is it that the students with the most to learn are the same ones who think they’re ready to join Cirque du Soleil in 2025? Why is it that the students who consistently make the worst safety choices are the least likely to take a rigging or aerial safety workshop? Conversely, I’ve seen it time and again: the students who sign up for the technique class? You guessed it. They’re ones who need it the least (meanwhile, Tessie Terrible Technique is sending casting submissions to 7 Fingers). “What the hell is that?!”, we wonder. That, dear friends, is the Dunning-Kruger Effect.

M’Kay…. What is the Dunning-Kruger Effect?

The Dunning-Kruger Effect is a phenomenon in which people with a little bit of knowledge or skill think they know more or have more skill than they do.

Sound familiar? It should, because it’s crazy common, and almost everyone will participate at some point. When we look to our peers to evaluate our own performance we are most often wrong – sometimes a lot wrong. Low skill performers tend to grossly overestimate their performance or skills, while high skill performers tend to slightly underestimate.

Newbies don’t know all the things they don’t know.

Remember when you were 16 years old and supremely confident that you could drive a car like Danica Patrick? Do you look back and cringe just a little because oh sweet LORD you were a terrible driver and could have taken somebody out at any second? Even if you were a spectacular teen driver (….), I’ll bet there’s at least one thing you can look back on and admit that maybe – just maybe – you weren’t the hot shizzle you thought you were. Novices will often:

• overestimate their level of skill
• fail to recognize skill in others
• fail to recognize the magnitude of their ignorance
• NOT respond well to feedback that they need to improve
• look back and cringe once they’ve learned and improved (we’ve ALL been there)

The problem is that the skills needed for proficiency are the same skills needed to recognize proficiency in others. D’oh! This is why it sometimes goes so poorly when you try to tell someone why their rigging – using fishing line on a rotten tree over a cliff – is a terrible idea (“Shut up! You don’t know me! You don’t know what I know! That is the strongest mono-filament money can buy, I’ve hung on it like 4 times, and no one ELSE has had a problem with it!”)

Highly skilled performers tend to do the opposite – they are now at the top of the mountain, and often don’t believe they’ve accomplished anything particularly spectacular. In fact, they tend to underestimate their true ability, and sometimes can’t imagine why you’re having so much trouble (this is why great performers don’t automatically make great coaches).

Look around and you’ll see the Dunning-Kruger effect everywhere – driving, politics, chess, and yes – circus. Interestingly enough, in circus, I’ve observed that the Dunning-Kruger Effect flares up not in the very beginning when the student still has a healthy respect for the work, but after they have been training for a while and *know* a few things. Then – THEN – they get what my grandmother used to call “a little too big for their britches”. Sometimes, they’re coming to me from another coach who let them get away with the worst technique on the planet and blew sunshine up their butt for months on end; when they find themselves getting corrected on basic climbs and inversions, whoa Nelly! It’s party time. Sometimes a student has done a few showcases, or is the best in a particular class. They start thinking they’re Really Something, and le sigh… the student mindset goes out the window and is replaced with an ego demon.

Why Does This Matter, Anyway?

We’ve been having good discussions on risk assessment. Accurately evaluating your abilities in circus can be a matter of life or death – believing you are much more capable than you actually are can be deadly. All you have to do is google “Darwin Awards” for folks who made Very Poor Choices and paid the ultimate price. In circus, even a marginally poor choice can mean the difference between a smart, safe progression and one that results in injury. Circus CAN be safely taught and performed, and developing the skill of self-assessment is your most powerful safety tool.

So, How do We Accurately Self-Assess?

Self assessment is a skill that can be learned. You’ll never be perfect at it (hello, bias), but you can get a whole lot better than you are now. Here’s how.

• DO: Use measurable standards when pursuing your goal (example: hips high on an inversion – closer to your hands than your elbows). This is your top tool – use it often.
• DON’T: Use your peers as your yardstick.
• DO: Debate and discuss. Any coach worth their salt can give you the “why” behind corrections. Do you have a different take? That’s OK! Discuss it respectfully, and everyone benefits from a deeper understanding.
• DON’T: Assume it’s personal. Really try to understand where someone is coming from with corrections.
• DO: Assemble a team of trusted experts. In my world, I look to industry leaders in circus PT, general fitness, aerial arts, flexibility, etc. There are SO MANY folks who have SO MUCH amazing knowledge and different perspectives – what incredible resources! Pursue knowledge like your hair is on fire.
• DON’T: Assume you know all there is to know. Remember – you could be wrong about anything and everything. Go where the research takes you!
• DO: Solicit feedback! And then listen to it. And say thank you (even when you don’t want to).
• DON’T: Be afraid of feedback! Feedback is how you get goooood. When you get some, don’t ignore it or argue with it.
• DO: Break goals into sub-tasks. Research has shown again and again that sub-tasks help to break the illusion that we know All The Things.
• DON’T: Make sweeping claims about your abilities. Example: “I’m amazing at performing!” (NOPE!) Instead, try looking at all the different aspects of performing and looking at how to improve each one: skills, technique, choreography, audience interaction, concept, costumes, music selection, etc. You’re never done, my loves. Welcome to performing arts.
• DO: Proceed with caution. Risk aversion (and risk assessment) can be learned!
• DON’T: Assume you’re immortal, or that nothing bad will ever happen because nothing bad has ever happened before.
• DO: Encourage your peers and classmates.
• DON’T: Assume that because something came easily for you that it should for someone else.

We can learn to be more accurate! We NEED to learn to be more accurate. We don’t take classes and perform in a bubble – incidents affect us all. Instead of rejoicing in what you know, focus on all the exciting things you have yet to learn. Embrace beginners mind. Think things though. Be careful. Be spectacular. Love and pull-ups, Laura

Move Feeling Impossible? Just Sit With It

We don’t like to sit with things. Sitting with things is Uncomfortable. Who wants to be uncomfortable? Not me. I do not like to sit with my worries about All the Things (I also do not like to sit with Mr Manspreader on the subway). My son Sebastian doesn’t like to sit with fractions. And you? I’m betting there are plenty of things you don’t like to sit with, but today we’re going to look at one particularly squirm-worthy moment: the move you can’t wrap yourself around… literally.

Sit Your A$$ Down

Not really, just go with it. You’ve just been introduced to a move that makes ZERO sense. Maybe it’s a nutty flamenco sequence that starts on one side and ends in Nebraska. Maybe you’re new and that inversion is hurting your brain. Maybe it’s something you’ve been revisiting periodically for months and HOW does it not make sense yet????!!!!!!!

Friend, I HEAR THAT. I do. How do I know all the parts of a perfect handstand, but I still banana the crap out of every attempt? How can you recite every element of a textbook inversion, but still not be able to haul your butt over your head? How can Mica write a thesis on the theory behind a Sparkle Twirly Hip Circle Drop, but still crumple every time they get to step 4? Because some things just take time to set up residence in our bodies, and like St Celine says, “that’s the way it is”.

(“When you want it the most, there’s no easy way out; when you’re ready to go and your heart’s left in doubt, don’t give up on your faith…” Come on people, it’s practically perfect, just replace “love” with “circus”. 😉

Learn from the Inside Out

When a move or a skill is new, it’s new. You’ve never done it before! Sometimes, the very best thing you can do is just try it a dozen times and give it a second to click.

It’s SO tempting to immediately ask, “What am I doing wrong? How do I fix it?” Sometimes, the answer is to straighten your leg, flex your foot, and squeeze your butt. But often, the answer is way more frustrating: just try it a few times, and try to feel your way through.

“WHAT? I want you to TELL me what my body needs to do, dammit!”

M’kay, valid, but that doesn’t always work. Sometimes, you need to FEEL it in your body; you need to inch your way through the movement, feel where the silk rests, find where the bar needs to settle, sleuth out the timing. You have to discover it from the inside out rather than the outside in. UNCOMFORTABLE, right?

You can mentally understand a movement pathway, but feel hella confused when you’re actually doing a move because you’re still in your head. Not to get all woo on you, but you’ve gotta get out of your head and into your body. What can you feel? Where is your weight? Where are your limbs? Where is the apparatus? OK, now where should it be? Can you move your body in a way that gets you closer? Try this. No? OK, try that. No? Oh wait – there it is!

I’m certainly not saying to refrain from asking questions, or that you should just wait to “feel” everything. I am suggesting that, if something is overwhelming or eluding you, that you give it a hot second; do your best, and see if it sorts itself out. If it’s a long term battle, get input from lots of different sources and see if something clicks, but if your teacher says, “it just takes time”, well…. it may just take time. Love and pullups, Laura

Don’t Die! Staying Safe While Training on Your Own

It’s happened! You’ve got the green light to train on your own, and you are in rare form, Sparkle Panties! Congrats. Now – how do you know what to train? How do you structure your training? And what about Ermandine who keeps asking you to teach her what you learned in class this week? (Very sneaky, that Ermandine.) Let’s chat!

The More the Merrier – Don’t Train Alone

Look into my eyes and put on your listening ears. I don’t give a rat’s a$$ whether you have a silk in your salon, and trapeze in your trunk, some straps in the studio, or a rig in your room – do not train alone. DO. NOT. TRAIN. ALONE. Ever. You need someone with you in case something happens. Period.

Do What You Know

So, what should you work on? So many things!

You know that thing you did last week in class that you just learned and have never executed successfully and can’t quite remember? Yeah. That’s not the thing you want to work on. Instead, have a look at:

• Moves you know well, but need to practice for form, technique, sequence, flair, etc.
• The 85 things your teacher has been correcting you on FOREVER. Sicled feet? Bent knees? Noodle legs? This is the perfect time to work on your form. Fly, video, watch, rinse, repeat.
• Sequences! It’s fun to begin to string things together! Pick two moves, then three, then more. Remember – start low and slow.
• Fancy business! Open workout is a great time to work on “dancing it”. Take a move and see if you can get it to come right from your belly button. Experiment with arms, leg positions, fabric foofing, etc.
• Work with music when you’re ready! How does it make you feel? How does it inform your movement? Remember to video!
• Do you have questions? When we work on our own, we discover that (SHOCK) we don’t know a lick of what we thought we did. What questions begin coming up for you? Write them down and ask your coach during your next session.
• AWESOME tip from Beverly Sobelman of Versatile Arts: “How about you and your training pals practice rescuing each other from various stuck situations? Even the best aerialists sometimes get their clothing eaten by a rogue S-lock.” I love this! Knowing how to help yourself and others when you get stuck is a tremendously important part of aerial fabulousness.

Make Good Choices!

Like a good romantic evening, you’re gonna want to keep new things slow and low. This is not the time to shimmy to the rafters and bust out that questionable triple you saw on Instagram! Give yourself the height you need for safety, but keep newer stuff or experiments in movement close to the ground until you understand how they’re going to play out.

But What About Ermandine?

Raise your hand if this has happened to you. You’re at open workout, working on not doing that weird noodle thing with your back leg (it’s legit super weird), when an “Ermandine” appears.

“Hey, Penelope! Can you teach me the Fussy Flamingo move I just saw you doing?”

Hold up, Ermandine. First, you’re putting dear Penelope in a really awkward position. You see, she paid her money and went to class and learned that move. She isn’t a teacher. She may or may not be able to safely communicate the ins and outs of this sequence. She may or may not want to assume the liability of teaching you. She may want to (gasp) focus on herself and her own work during her open training. That said, is there a time and place for skill sharing? Absolutely! Click here for more.

Here are a few more thoughts on open workout – I hope they’re useful! Love and pull-ups, Laura

Do you need help organizing your training time? This might help!

Are you the person everyone at open workout hates? You might be….

Superhuman Front Balance Time!

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s…. It’s…. SUPERHUMAN FRONT BALANCE!!!! Whether you’re getting your pelvis squished between two gossamer strands of fabric, or enjoying that metal bar nestled smartly in your hip crease, we can’t get enough front balance…. Or CAN we?

What it Is, Where You See It

Front balance gets around! You’ll see it on silks, hammock, trapeze, lyra, partner acrobatics, and bookoodles of invented apparatus. We use it when we want to look like a superperson zooming across the heavens, as the starting position for drops, as a transition, a strength building exercise, etc.

Just for fun? Play the “Where’s Front Balance” game the next time you’re killing time on social media – it’s like “Where’s Waldo” but with a lot more circus. Look for this position as you scroll through Instagram, YouTube, FB, etc – you’ll see it EVERYWHERE. Sooooo, it’s in your best interest to master it, for realz.

What Usually Goes Wrong

• Noodles! No, I’m not placing my usual Japanese food order. I’m talking about the dreaded noodle body, in which the student lacks sufficient strength or tension to achieve/maintain the position, and drapes across the apparatus like an overcooked strand of linguine.
• Rigidity! If you’re so stiff that you forget to be responsive (wink), you’ve got a rigidity issue. Balance is active – you’re constantly making adjustments to recapture it.
• Terror! “I will fall on my face! Oooooooh no! Now I will fall backwards! Aaaaaargh, now I will fall on my face again!” I get this! I really do. Problem is, terror makes you super grabby and prone to wild overcorrections.
• Uncommitted! You’re stopping juuuuuust short of the final goal, which results in a not-so-charmingly-assy position. Friend – MY EYES.

How to Manage That Mischief

• Viagra-vate! Using the exercises at the end of this post, you’re aiming to find enough essential tension to make and hold that flying superhuman position. Remember to think about pushing your hips into the ground or apparatus as you lift your torso and legs. Is your butt squeezed? Not even a little? Yer doin’ it wrong. ♡ Mastered it on the floor? Try it on yoga blocks, a foam roller*, or low apparatus. (*careful with placement – sudden rolling onto your abdomen should be avoided).
• Respond! If you find yourself pitching forwards and backwards like a drunk toddler on a teeter-totter, sloooooooooow dooooooown. Use your hands on the apparatus to help you find your superhuman position, then SLOOOOOOOWLY take your hands off. Sudden movements are NOT gonna help you find that balance! Try flinging your arms around while trying to balance on one foot. Did it work? Of course it didn’t, silly. Chill.
• Place it correctly! For most of us, the happy zone is nestled right in your hip creases (my students call them the “golden arches”). Try this: fold at the hips with the apparatus tucked right into your hip smiles and find a ball position. Feel where that is? THAT’S where you want to keep your apparatus. You do NOT want it on your hip bone (ouch!) or your waist (gah!) as you extend into position.
• Hug the floor! If fear is your nemesis, keep it low enough so you know you could touch the floor with your hands if you needed to, and that should go a long way towards short-circuiting that fear. TRY to keep your hands hovering close to the ropes/hoop/silks, but you should feel a bit better knowing you won’t face plant or fly backwards.
• Don’t stop! A little higher, a little higher, THERE IT IS! Don’t stop until there’s at minimum a straight line from your collar bones to your toesies. Got a little detour at the hips? Press your hips into the apparatus, slowly lift your chest, lift your legs.

Practice front balances until the position is easy to hold, then have fun! Play with arm and leg positions, changing your focus, or working it into transitions. I’ll see you (r front balance) in the air! Love and pullups, Laura

The Song of the Competent Student

I am a Very Very Competent Student. If I am in your class, you never have to worry about me doing something questionable or stupid (SAYING something questionable or stupid is another story entirely). I know my body, can easily follow most directions, and am perfectly happy finding my own modifications for things that are too hard, too scary, or to work around an injury. All of these things make The Competent Student super easy to have in class! These things also tend to render them invisible.

Teachers Gotta Triage

In a group class, your coach is in a constant state of “triage”. We identify students most likely to test our insurance, beginners who are now questioning ALL their life choices, and students who are going to need a challenge. If you’re somewhere in the middle, you may sometimes legitimately feel overlooked.

“WHY AM I FEELING INVISIBLE? I NEED COACHING TOO!”

Friend, that is REAL. You absolutely do. Let’s get on that.

Gimme Some of That Teachin’ Love!

Here are some things to keep in mind and a few ideas for how you might eek your way back onto the radar.

• First, ask yourself how you respond to feedback. If the answer is anything other than “graciously”, consider this: if it is unpleasant to give you non-essential feedback (you argue, roll your eyes, get moody, or just ignore it), you’re not going to get as much of it. Your coach probably isn’t a glutton for punishment, so don’t make giving you corrections painful. Repeat after me: “Thank you!”
• Talk to your coach! If you are consistently feeling overlooked, it’s time to have a chat with your teacher. This probably shouldn’t be a 45 minute dump-all-your-feelings-on-the-table kind of talk (oh glory, please no), but rather a quick, “Hey Ms Mergatroyd! I’m loving this class so much! Could I get a little more feedback from you? I’m really looking to level up, and I feel like I need a little more direction.” If you have something specific you’re working on, even better.
• Ask questions! Pick one thing you really want help with, and then feel ZERO guilt asking for your coach’s full attention for a few minutes. For example, I’m fairly certain that I will die a slow and terrible death if I walk belly-to-the-wall in handstand class. It gives me ALL the feels. So, I ask my coach to stand right next to me to ensure my survival (it’s worked so far! I am not dead!).
• Accept that you may be doing just fine, and whatever you’re working on just needs more time. You may be doing everything just as you should, just where you are. The most common feedback I got in circus school? “Again.”

If, after all that, you still feel invisible, it might be time to look at switching to another class or booking some private sessions. Just remember though – a full class of 6 with 5 beginners is REALLY different from a class with three circus veterans, and sometimes we just have to be our fabulously competent selves while our coach focuses on folks who need them a little more today. Communicate with your coach, don’t be le poo when you DO get feedback, and share the love. Feedback and pull-ups, Laura

Don’t Let Me Fall! Why You Don’t Need All That Spotting

Hey you! This post is about teaching and being an adult in classes. I do not and will not teach children (COOTIES). Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog.

If you’ve ever been a beginner in one of my aerial classes here in New York City, you may have noticed something – after your first day, you don’t get a whole lot of spots. What gives? Do I not love you? Do you have BO? Do I not care about your circus wellbeing and want you to succeed? Oh, Dear Dangler, if only you knew! Of COURSE I love you, no you do not have BO, and I absolutely care about your wellbeing and want you to succeed. I just want you to do that on your own. Without kicking me in the face.

Why We Might Spot

There are several reasons we might trot out our spotting magic.

• To avoid face smashing. Beginners especially do *creative* things, so a carefully placed hand may prevent some very bad choices. Example: a hand hovering above Jericho’s ankles when they’re doing their first knee hang reminds them to not straighten their legs and fall on their head.
• To boost confidence. Sometimes, you just need to know your coach is there because you’re having ALL the feelings. Example: standing in front of Morgan and encouraging him as he whirls into a new tinkle-inducing drop.
• To guide movement. “Tap my hand. Tap my hand. Tap my hand.” If a student is having trouble with a new movement pattern, I may use the Follow My Hand method. Example: Becky is completely mystified about how her leg is supposed to get from behind her head to between the silks. Tap and follow my hand with your foot, Becky.

The Trend of Over-Spotting

So often, the thinking goes: if a little bit of spotting is a good thing, then a whole LOT of spotting must be better! Right? Not so fast, sparkle panties. While it’s essential to have a big ole bag of tricks when it comes to keeping students safe, hands-on spotting isn’t always the way to go. Consider:

• As a coach, I am more likely to be injured while spotting. Every teacher who’s ever gotten a kick to the face, raise your hand!
• If your instructor has to person-handle all your body weight through a move, well, that’s just not a good use of anyone’s time! Do you need to be stronger before attempting that triple spinny salto thingy? Does the coach need to break it down into smaller, more manageable steps? Let’s take a moment for some real talk. I am not 22, and you are not 8 years old and 65 lbs. If you cannot manage a move under 90% of your own steam, we’re not ready to go there.
• If your coach is locked into one on one with you, they’re not able to give their attention to anyone else in the class. Once in a while, this is completely appropriate! If it happens every 5 minutes, it is monopolizing the teacher’s time and attention; it makes your fellow students have stabby feelings – don’t do it.
• Spotting can short-circuit a student’s perception of what’s happening, how it should feel, how much effort it takes, etc. We take in tons of input through our feel-y bits. As students, we need to be able to feel the parameters of a move. For example, if I simply hold you in a knee hang, you get absolutely no sense of how that knee hang might ever happen on your own; if I hover a hand over your ankles or allow you to use a mat to support some of your body weight, your muscles have to do some work, and you have a much better understanding of how one might hang by their knees.
• This one is actually the main reason I limit hands-on spotting: self-efficacy. Spotting is a transference of ownership. When I am being spotted, I’m handing over a portion of my responsibility for completing a move over to my coach. This may be a great thing, this may not be a great thing – it depends on the move, the student, the apparatus, and the day. That said, a HUGE part of my teaching philosophy is that students thrive when they participate in their own learning. Enter: SELF-EFFICACY. When we cannot move without our instructor practically right on top of us, that’s a problem now and forever. But, when we take appropriate ownership of our safety, our bodies, and our understanding of the work, magic happens! Allowing and encouraging ownership = everyone wins.

So, If I’m Not Spotting, What Am I Supposed To Do?

Save your bodies, teachers! There are oodles of alternatives to hands-on spotting we can consider. Here are a few of my favorites, and I’m sure you have some of your own (leave ’em in the comments!).

• Break it down now! Baby steps baby steps baby steps. Break that move down into the next teensy tiny step that the student can safely complete on their OWN.
• Floorials! Ain’t no shame in doing something near or on the floor! I do it all.the.time. It’s a fabulous way to get up close and personal with a movement pattern, but without the wedgies. WIN!
• These moves are made for walkin’. Learning to walk down drops or other moves means you’ve got the power! Basically, you spot your own darned self.

Know what I’m NOT a fan of? Students spotting other students. Ever. Are they trained to do that? No. Did they sign up to be responsible for another student’s safety? No. Will your insurance cover an accident that happens between students? Probably not. Just say no.

The main takeaway is this: is that hands-on spot really necessary? Is it really? If the answer is no, then explore other options. If the answer is yes, Bad Things may happen without a spot, then spot away! There are some apparatus that are naturally safety line or spot heavy (swinging trap, I’m looking at you), and some that should require very little (aerial silks in the house!). You do you! Be safe, have fun, don’t smash your face (or smash your coach’s face). Love and pull-ups, Laura

Keep Me Hanging On: The Arm Position That’s Killing Your Stamina (and my eyeballs)

Let’s play a game! A little quiz-zy game.

Is the most popular arm position for students in aerial silks class:

• A) Straight arm hang
• B) Fully bent arm hang
• C) That panicked half pull-up position that looks like a cat trying to avoid the water bottle as she climbs the curtains

If you answered C, congratulations! You’re correct – the half pull up position (the “gargoyle”) is beloved of students around the globe. The problem? It’s killing your stamina (and your grip, shoulders, and elbows). Is there a better way? YES. Yes there is.

Yay Positions

Broadly speaking, there are two hanging positions that are vastly preferable to the Gargoyle: the straight arm hang and arms fully bent (the “backpack”). The former is pretty self-explanatory: arms are lengthened, shoulders engaged but not forcefully pulled down, ribs and hips connected. The latter isn’t crazy complicated either – hands are in line with the meaty part of the shoulder, elbows are glued to your waist, ribs and hips are connected.

So, if these two positions will save our stamina, WHY do we go for the Gargoyle? Because our bodies LOVE to cheat, and it takes time to build the strength needed to hold ourselves reliably off the ground without flailing like an angry badger. It’s OK! For now, just be aware of when you’re defaulting to a position more suited to perching on Notre Dame than wrapping a foot lock.

Troubleshooting

Backpack Hang

• If you’re rounding your upper back, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Return to the start, move your hands towards the outside of your shoulder, point your nipples straight ahead, and try again.
• If you’re arching your back, think about connecting your ribs and your hips, or tucking your ribs into your pants (my favorite).
• If you start strong and then find yourself melting, you’re in excellent company. Think about pulling your elbows towards your waist, and know that if you consistently train the position, it will come.

Straight

• If your grip feels like spaghetti, have your coach check your shoulder position. You can also try this: imagine your armpit is a dog or horse ear that swivels towards sound (I know it’s weird, just go with it). Is your armpit swivelled towards the front? Start there. You can also try a bit of glamor glue if you’re into it to bolster your grip.
• Take a little video. Are you still pulling with your bicep (bending your arm)? Give yourself a little spanking (wink), and remember that old habits die hard.

Arm positioning can be tricky (everyone’s body is different), and our understanding of it is being reshaped all the time thanks to more resources geared specifically towards aerial arts. Not sure if your positioning is le poo? Check in with a knowledgeable coach and have it evaluated, and remember that Notre Dame wasn’t built in a day. Save the gargoyles for Paris, and I’ll see you in the air! Love and pull-ups, Laura

It’s Not You, It’s Me – How to Break Up With Your Circus Teacher

If you’re part of the zany world of circus, at some point, you and a teacher are going to “break up”. It doesn’t have to be awkward, but it certainly can be! When should you say toodles? More importantly, how do you say it in a way that preserves a good relationship, or so feelings don’t get hurt? Here is the penicillin for your burning questions, friends.

Why Might You Need to Say Goodbye?

There are oodles of reasons you might need to stop or pause your training with a particular coach:

• You’re moving! We’ll miss you.
  
• You’re pregnant and you need to press pause for a while while you grow a person. (Note: you don’t have to stop training while pregnant – do what’s best for you and the little kumquat.)
• You’re injured and need to rehab and heal.
• You’re in a difficult or busy season of life, and you need to focus on other things.
• You don’t have the money, honey! Sometimes, we need to stop and get our finances in a better place.
• The class times changed, and it conflicts with your schedule.
• Your current coach or class is no longer meeting your needs. Legit!
• You don’t have particularly good chemistry with your teacher.
• You’re done with circus (or this apparatus), and moving on to other pursuits.

This list is by no means exhaustive, but you get my drift.

How to Have “The Talk”

Oh glory, not THAT one! Call your mom or use google for that talk. No, I’m taking about the “I’m leaving” talk. What’s that? You weren’t going to have that talk with your teacher? You were just going to stop coming to class? Do not pass Go, do not collect $200, go directly to the next section.

Still here? Great. This talk is actually really simple! If you have a lot to say, or you want to phrase things a certain way, write it out in an email, and say goodbye in person if possible; if you have been training together a long time, face to face means a lot. Be honest (but kind) about why you’re leaving. If you’ve enjoyed working with your coach, please tell them! We get terribly invested in your circus education, and getting the chance to say goodbye or “see you soon” means a lot. Here are some quick n’ dirty examples:

• “Ms Mergatroyd! I wanted to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your class! I’m (moving, pregnant, broke, whatever you’d like to put out there), so this is my last class for a little while. Sad face!” (cue hugs)
• “Mr Methuselah! I wanted to thank you for all your teaching and support! It’s time for me to move on to other things, but I wanted to say that I’ll see you around!”
• “Professor! Looks like I have shoulder tendinitis, so it’s off to PT with me. I’ll be back as soon as my physical therapist gives me the thumbs up!”

… and so on.

What NOT to Do

A few years ago, a student who had been with me for years told me they were going to take a break from training to get stronger, and then come back. Imagine my surprise when I saw pictures of them on social media training at a different studio! OUCH. That really hurt my feelings, and I wished they had been honest (I totally understand switching studios – they didn’t need to fib). It doesn’t have to go that way, folks!

Please don’t:

• Lie. A little buffer to spare someone’s feelings is one thing, a Big Whopping Lie is another. Be honest about going to train at other studios or with other coaches, or if you’re not planning on coming back. Polite? Yes, please! Fibby? No thanks.
• Ghost. If you’ve only taken a few classes, fuggedaboutit; but, if you’ve been there a while, please consider not ghosting. It hurts our feelings (yes, we have them)! Let us know if you’ll be gone for a bit (or for good) so we can say goodbye and wish you well.
  
• Say you’re coming back if you know you’re not.

And now, a note for teachers. Students will come, students will go. They may switch studios. They may go to your most hated competition. They may take 10 lessons, steal all your moves, and open up a studio two doors down for $5 per class with free margaritas. Yes, it’s awful. Yes, it’s unfair. Know what else it is? Out of your sphere of control. You do you! Make your classes so damned good that people will forgo the cheap thrills and margaritas in favor of your awesomeness. Make your vibe so unique it’s like apples and oranges. We can let it make us bitter or better – what’s it gonna be? (That said, you KNOW I love a candid conversation, so make sure to have one of those if a former student is being super shady. Conversation done? Make like Frozen and let it go).

Breaking up doesn’t have to get messy! It doesn’t have to be drama! Remember that your coach is invested in you, and closure is good. ♡ Love and pull-ups, Laura

But When Will I Get Good?

Le sigh. If we’re being really honest, this is the question your circus teacher dreads the most. THE MOST.

It’s not an unreasonable question! You’re wondering about a realistic time frame for getting your (fill in the blank – inversion in the air, crossback straddle, handstand without the wall, quadruple-super-twirl-flip-wedgie-maker-thing, etc); you want to know if you’re learning at a “normal” pace; you want to know if it’s hopeless; you think you should have your (xyz – see above) by now, and suspect that there’s some secret your teacher isn’t telling you.

There is no secret. There is no time frame. There is no normal. Sorry.

The Pace at Which You Learn

Everyone starts circus training in a different place. Some folks have 15 years of dance training, rock climb twice a week, and run marathons (for FUN) on the weekends; some folks are exploring movement for the first time, just bought their first pair of sassy leggings, and would rather get a full body wax – twice – than take a Pilates class. Friends – these two students are both circus beginners, but are going to have WILDLY different progression timelines! And that’s OK! Know why? Because unless Cirque du Soleil accidentally offered you a contract, you do not have a deadline. Here are a few factors that will influence how quickly you bust a move:

• Body awareness. Do you know where your body is in space? Are you sure? Circus will really challenge that.
• Muscle strength, control, and flexibility. It’s a never-ending adventure! You will never “arrive” (sorry). We are all constantly building muscles, learning to control our bodies, stretching things, rehabbing, and pre-habbing. You will never be done. When you can do one pullup, the goal changes to two. When you can touch your toes, the goal changes to getting your face to your knees. Make peace with it!
• How frequently you train – circus and otherwise. If the only time you move your body is in my class once a week, your experience will be reeeeeeeally different from the student who trains outside of class or multiple days per week.
• Processing information. Do you process information in nontraditional ways? Are you training in a language other than your first? Do you speak your apparatus’ language? Does it intuitively make sense to you, or does it challenge you? I understood silks from day 1 – it made perfect sense to me. Wheel? HAHAHAHAHA! Not even a little bit. All of this affects how quickly you’ll pick things up.
• Your beliefs about how easy or hard it should be. Did you sign up for classes thinking you would pick up these skills quick like a bunny? Has your experience been more slow like a tortoise? Did you come in thinking it would be impossible like Congress (sorry not sorry)? If you thought circus would be a breeze, or that you would be turning fabulous tricks in two weeks, you may need to manage your expectations….. That said, it’s not impossible! Hard work + perseverance + you = AWESOME CIRCUS.
• Prior injuries, a changing body, or special needs. Bodies have history, and every body is wildly different. Many of us bring prior injuries to class, or have pain we need to work around; some students are undergoing hormonal therapies, or have had surgical modifications that need to be factored in; some students need a creative approach to the work to accommodate their needs. EVERY body arrives with a story, and that story is a huge part of your training journey.
• Fear. Are you a cautious mouse like me, or are you an “every-time-my-teacher-turns-their-head-I-go-for-gold-and-hope-I-don’t-die” kind of student? The amount of fear you experience (or don’t) is a big player in the progression game.
• How willing you are to be a student. Can your teacher give you candid feedback? Do you argue with them? Does a correction send you sulking into the corner for the rest of class? OR, do you soak up all that feedback like a (very good natured) sponge?

All of these things factor STRONGLY into how you progress, and how quickly; you can change some of these to tilt the scales in your favor, but some are what they are. There is no norm. I can tell you that most students training once a week will get their in-air inversion in 6 months to a year, but hey – you might get it your second class, or your second year. You are where you are, you are WHO you are, and things will take the time they take.

It’s a Set of Skills, Not a Bag of Tricks

One of the most useful perspectives I got this year was this:

You’re (hopefully) aiming to build a set of skills, not fill a bag of tricks. Skills take time! If you’re looking for instant (or even quick) circus fabulousness, or a few pictures for your Instagram feed, book a private, sit in a hoop, take some photos, and call it a day. You won’t get much respect from our community, but maybe you don’t really care about that – valid.

Meaningful progressions in circus happen in months and years, not days and weeks. It doesn’t mean you won’t be frustrated by a slow streak, it doesn’t mean you’ll have peace about the pace of things, it doesn’t mean that nothing will come easily; it does mean that you understand that you will be trading instant results for lasting skills. It’s like fast food nibbles versus the slow food movement: one is quick, cheap, and unfulfilling, the other is slow, has depth, and makes your life infinitely richer.

When you hear yourself wondering when you’re going to be able to wrap your leg around your head three times while spinning by one wrist and singing excerpts from “Aida”, remind yourself that it’s a marathon. Slow your roll, Sparkle Britches. Take a deep breath, take stock of the awesome progress you’ve already made (write it down!!!!!), and make sure you’re celebrating tiny milestones – you earned it! If you feel you should be progressing faster, check in with your coach and see what they think – your teacher may recommend supplemental training, direct you to resources, or raise an eyebrow and reassure you that you’re right on track. Wherever you are in your training, repeat like a mantra, “It’s a skill, not a trick.”, and let the awesomeness unfold. Over time. Love and pullups, Laura