We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Jennifer Kagan. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with jennifer below.

Hi Jennifer, thanks for joining us today. Have you ever experienced a times when your entire field felt like it was taking a U-Turn?

After nearly 30 years as a sign language interpreter, I’ve seen a lot of changes—but the biggest U-turn came during COVID.

At the time, I had a thriving brick-and-mortar yoga studio. But when the world shut down, so did in-person teaching. I had to rethink everything.

That pause gave me a moment of clarity.

I realized I wanted to bring the deep tools of yoga and Ayurveda to a group that rarely receives care themselves: sign language interpreters. We’re trained to give everything—our bodies, our focus, our emotional bandwidth—but not always trained to replenish ourselves. As a result, there is a lot of repetitive strain, vicarious trauma and burnout causing talented folks to leave the field.

I had taught the only Iyengar yoga class in ASL for the Deaf community when I had lived in NYC but I had never considered my fellow colleagues.

So I closed my physical studio, took my work online, and created a space where interpreters could recover from pain, regulate their nervous systems, and finally learn how to care for themselves with the same dedication they give to others.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

Hi, I’m Jen Kagan—an Iyengar Yoga teacher (Level 3), Certified Yoga Therapist (C-IAYT), Ayurveda Health Coach, and longtime sign language interpreter. For nearly 30 years, I worked as an interpreter, navigating the physical strain, emotional intensity, and constant demands that come with the profession. I know firsthand how easy it is to disconnect from your own needs when your job is centered on facilitating everyone else’s communication, emotions, and presence.
Yoga saved me. Not in a feel-good, abstract way—but in a very real, “I can get out of bed without pain and breathe again” way.

In New York City, I launched the only Iyengar Yoga class taught in ASL for the Deaf community. But eventually, I moved to Mexico and opened the only Iyengar studio in my town, continuing to serve a diverse international community. Since 2008, I’ve traveled to Pune, India every two years to study directly with the Iyengar family. I hold a Level 3 Iyengar certification, am certified with the International Association of Yoga Therapists, and have thousands of hours of rigorous training and teaching experience behind me.
During the COVID pandemic, I took another deep dive—this time into Ayurveda. I earned two certifications as an Ayurvedic Health Coach, which allowed me to integrate nutrition, lifestyle, and daily rhythms into the work I was already doing. This opened a whole new level of care for my clients.
When the world shut down, I closed my brick-and-mortar studio and went fully online. That pivot led me to what I do now: supporting sign language interpreters (and other professionals who rely on their bodies and nervous systems for work) with yoga, Ayurveda, and personalized wellness coaching.
I continue to also teach non-interpreter – just the regular folks – in my online studio where I create a friendly empowering community
My offerings include:
* Private coaching programs for pain prevention, stress relief, and long-term career sustainability
* Courses and memberships tailored to interpreters’ needs and schedules
* Yoga retreats in Mexico and the U.S., with ASL-accessible options
* Ayurvedic consultations to align body, mind, and environment for greater resilience
* An online wellness academy with tools for posture, mobility, and nervous system health
What sets me apart is that I don’t teach a one-size-fits-all method. I believe strongly in the svadhyha of the practice and giving students first a structure and then the freedom to understand themselves in a deep way.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

In my early twenties, I lost both of my sisters—one year apart. I hadn’t even finished college. I was studying abroad in England when my first sister passed away. I flew home, completely shaken, but somehow managed to finish school. Then, not long after, my second sister died. I was totally lost.

But something in me kept moving forward.
I decided to learn sign language. An interest I had had since a child. I moved to a new city. I started over—brick by brick—rebuilding a life from the ground up. Eventually, I fell in love and moved to New York City to pursue my dream of becoming a theater director, supporting myself by interpreting. When that relationship ended, I was heartbroken again and had to pause my life to determine where I wanted to put my energy. This is when I started to seriously study yoga.

I found myself in the most coveted staff interpreter position in NYC. I bought a condo. I got a dog and threw myself into dog training on weekends. On paper, it looked like success. But every day, I had to turn myself off just to go to work. I was burned out and disconnected from my spirit.

So I left it. I turned my focus more fully to yoga—a practice that had been quietly sustaining me through it all. Eventually, I moved to Mexico, where I opened the only Iyengar yoga studio in my town. I had already been traveling to Pune, India every two years since 2008 to study directly with the Iyengar family, and I held a Level 3 Iyengar certification as well as yoga therapy credentials.

But then life unraveled again. A painful breakup and sitting in family court in Mexico I thought “How did I get here.” I was completely unmoored. I didn’t want to return to the U.S.,I wanted to get to the bottom of why my life had just blown up. I chose to make my own relationship with Mexico, to deepen my Spanish, and to create a life not built around someone else’s dream—but my own.

And then COVID hit.

All my students left. My in-person studio closed. The few who had practiced with me online returned to their hometown teachers. I was left with a decision: give up, or try again.
I chose to keep going.

I invested in learning business skills. I hired a coach. I rebuilt my offerings. I learned how to speak about what I do in ways that connect—not just teach. There were many moments where I thought, “Maybe I should just quit.” But I didn’t. Through perimenopause, heartbreak, and isolation, I leaned into my yoga practice and the friendships that held me up.

Today, I have an online business that serves a community I care deeply about—sign language interpreters. My work reaches people in the U.S., Mexico, and beyond. I’m still evolving, and now I’m exploring a new chapter—looking for the next place to live, knowing I can bring my work with me.
That, to me, is resilience. Not pushing through at all costs—but pausing, recalibrating, and choosing yourself over and over again. I feel like I’m always learning how to understand myself better, believe in myself harder and keep my eyes looking forward.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

That I’m not good enough. That I should stay in the background. That no one really hears me.

This was the role I played in my family, and it was so easy to slip into a career where my job was to speak for someone else. Interpreting gave me purpose and meaning—but it also let me hide.

For a long time, I didn’t realize how deeply I had internalized the belief that my voice didn’t matter. But the truth is, the ways I’ve protected myself—by staying invisible, by always performing, by pushing through everything—aren’t working for me anymore.

I’m unlearning all of it.

And it’s not easy.

Even in my yoga practice, I carried that same drive—striving for higher certifications, pushing to prove myself, constantly trying to measure up. But not anymore. That path of constant proving has worn thin.

Stepping out of the shadows has been the most vulnerable, disorienting, and powerful work I’ve ever done. It’s what led me into somatic practices—so I could understand my nervous system, not override it.

My dad pushed me at five years old, off the chair lift onto a black diamond slope – this is how he taught me to ski. And while I did make it to the bottom, this is no longer how I want to be with myself. I’m learning how to start on the bunny slope. Then the next level. And the next. To be a friend to myself along the way.

Because this is what real progress looks like. Not punishing. Not heroic. Just steady, honest, and in connection.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.jenkaganyoga.com
• Instagram: jenkaganyoga
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jen.kagan.7/. or bit.ly/yogaterps
• Linkedin: Jen Kagan
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@jenkaganyoga