Why My Consent Card Always Says No — Even Though I Love Hands-On Assists

I love a good hands-on yoga assist. Used skilfully, touch can communicate something that words sometimes struggle to convey. An assist can bring awareness to an area of the body I hadn’t noticed, help me understand the direction of a movement or simply offer support.

And yet, whenever I go to a yoga class where there are consent cards beside the mats, mine is always turned to NO. This sometimes surprises people who know me as a teacher, but there’s a simple reason for it. I haven’t been asked the question yet.

A card asking whether I consent to hands-on assists throughout a yoga class is asking me to agree to something before I know what that something is. That isn’t how consent works.

Would you agree to all physical touch at the beginning of a date?

Imagine going on a date and, before you've even ordered a drink, being asked:

“Are you happy for me to touch you tonight? Yes or no?”

Would you say yes to all possible touch for the remainder of the evening?

Of course not.

You might be very happy for that person to touch you. You might actively want them to. But whether you consent at any particular moment depends on what they want to do, where they want to touch you, why, and, importantly, whether you still want it when the moment arrives. So why would we expect consent to work differently in a yoga class?

Consent isn't a personality trait.

I'm not a person who “likes assists” and therefore permanently belongs in the YES category. Consent is specific and contextual, and no one should expect to agree in advance to being touched, without knowing the context and the specifics.

Ask me when you want to touch me

Before I can meaningfully consent to an assist, I need some information.

I want to know why you want to touch me, I want to know roughly what you're planning to do and I want to understand the intended outcome.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’m struggling to find a particular action and you want to use your hand to give me some proprioceptive feedback. Perhaps you want to support the weight of part of my body so that I can experience a movement differently. Perhaps you want to deepen my pose. Those are quite different propositions and they may or may not align with my objectives for my practice. Not everyone wants to “go further” or “get it right”. I might also have said yes to exactly the same assist last Tuesday and say no today.

In my teacher-training discussions around ethics, I return repeatedly to the importance of boundaries and the fact that students and teachers bring different histories, patterns and experiences into the room. Clear boundaries aren't an obstacle to connection; they're part of what makes trustworthy relationships possible.

The teacher-student power dynamic

There's another complication in a yoga class: the teacher and student aren't occupying equal positions, no matter how trauma-aware and democratic your class.

As the teacher, I hold a degree of authority. I've invited people into a space in which I'm presumed to know something they don't. I'm directing the practice. Students may reasonably assume that if I approach them to “correct” something, I believe they are doing it wrong.

That makes it hard for the student to say no. People may freeze, or comply automatically. Your student might not want to appear difficult. Some of us have spent a lifetime becoming extremely accomplished at putting other people's comfort ahead of our own. This is why I don't think the absence of an objection constitutes consent. Nor do I think a YES card placed beside someone's mat 45 minutes earlier gives me unrestricted permission to touch their body.

For me, any touch without consent is a boundary violation, and when it comes from a teacher, we have to take seriously the power dynamic within which that touch occurs.

Consent doesn't diminish hands-on teaching

None of this means I think teachers should stop touching students. Quite the opposite. I value skilful touch enormously. I simply think we need to become more skilful about consent as well. We can easily check in with students each time we want to touch them – it’s really straightforward.

For example:

“Would you like some hands-on feedback here?”

If the answer is yes:

“I'd like to place my hand on the outside of your thigh to help you feel that action. Is that OK?”

Now I know what I'm consenting to and crucially, we are interacting as two equal adults with equal power.

There are also plenty of ways to assist without touch. In my training I encourage teachers to consider approaching a student quietly (and within their sight) and inviting them to explore something verbally;  an assist doesn't automatically have to mean putting our hands on somebody.

My consent card will still say no

If you see me in your class with my consent card firmly turned to NO, please don't assume I dislike being touched. Come and ask me. Tell me what you've noticed. Tell me what you'd like to offer. Give me enough information to make a decision about my own body. I really welcome assists most of the time, but if I am blissing out in Paschimottanasa and living my best life, please don’t be offended if I decline the opportunity to “go further”.