This April marked 100 years since Joseph Pilates arrived in New York. He and Clara opened their studio at 939 Eighth Avenue, in a building full of dancers, and taught there for the rest of their lives.
This month marks another anniversary. In October 2000, a federal judge in Manhattan ruled that "Pilates" was a generic term, like yoga or karate, and anyone could use the word. My teacher, Romana Kryzanowska, sat on the witness stand during that trial.
Twenty-six years later, you can see the result on just about every corner. Franchise chains have come to dominate the scene, and many of them now train their own teachers in-house. If you're new to all of this, it's confusing. Two studios can both call what they do Pilates and hand you completely different experiences.
I've been teaching for 30 years. I trained under Romana, who began studying with Joe in 1941 and later ran his New York studio. Every year I re-read his book, Return to Life Through Contrology, and every year I come back grateful for what this method has given me.
If you love the class you're taking, and it's working for you, wonderful. Keep going. If you've ever felt confused about what you're actually paying for, I want to start with what happened in that courtroom, because it explains a lot about where we are today.
"I teach Pilates"
The trial ran 11 days. Three of Joe's own students took the stand: Ron Fletcher, Kathy Grant and Romana.
Romana was called by the side trying to keep the trademark. The man who held it claimed his rights came through her. And when the attorney asked her what she did for a living, she answered the only way she could: "I teach Pilates."
Those three words helped sink the trademark. Trademark law protects brand names, and Romana had just described what she does for a living, the way a piano teacher would.
Over the course of her testimony, Romana named more than two dozen teachers who used the word to describe what they taught. She even mentioned that dancers called their warm-up "the Pilates," the way table tennis gets called ping pong. Then she told the judge that Joe "wanted all colleges mainly to have this exercise program because he thoroughly believed in it and thought it would be good for the human race and even children in schools."
That last line is the one I keep coming back to. Joe wanted his work in every school and every home he could reach. Romana's loyalty in that courtroom was to the work itself, and I've tried to carry that into my own teaching ever since.
The flip side is what we live with now. Once the name belonged to everyone, it could be attached to anything.
So what is Pilates?
In 1945, Joe put his method into a slim book called Return to Life Through Contrology. He tells you right up front what it is: "Contrology is complete coordination of body, mind, and spirit."
Then he lays out how you get there, in two stages. First you consciously take control of your own body. Then, through the right kind of repetition, that control sinks below the surface until it runs on its own, with the same natural rhythm as your breathing or your walk.
He was specific about the payoff. He promised the work would even out your body and correct your posture, and that your mind would come along for the ride. He even prescribed a dose: four sessions a week for three months.
Joe believed the brain benefits as much as the body. As you learn to wake up muscles that have been asleep for years, he wrote, you wake up the parts of the brain that run them. I see it every week in my studio, when a client finally feels a muscle she didn't know she had and her whole face changes.
When new students ask, I tell them this. Pilates is the science of learning to move your body with intelligent control, until that control becomes attention-free. You give the work your full attention in the session so that out in your life, your body moves well on its own.
Two things called Pilates
In 2026 we're well past the old debates about classical, contemporary, traditional and authentic. The real line runs between a movement system with its own philosophy and a fitness-style Reformer class. Both can be good for you. They're different things, and you deserve to know which one you're buying.
Reps. The Pilates method puts quality first, usually 3 to 5 reps. A fitness-style Reformer class goes for volume, with reps until you burn. Exercises. The Pilates method follows Joe's repertoire, with specific exercises done in a specific order so each one prepares your body for the next. A fitness-style class often mixes in moves borrowed from the gym, barre or HIIT, and the lineup changes from class to class. Equipment. The Pilates method uses the full system: Mat, Reformer, Cadillac, Wunda Chair, Barrels, and more. A fitness-style class primarily uses the Reformer. Session size. Pilates sessions are private or small group, so the teacher can see you. Fitness-style classes tend to be large. Focus. Pilates is mindful movement you carry into your day. A fitness-style class is a high-energy workout set to music.
An exception worth naming: a Mat class is the heart of the method, and Joe intended it to be done on its own, at home, every day.
In the '80s, when the fitness industry was in its infancy, we beat our bodies up with mega reps until we felt the burn. A lot of people got hurt, and I thought we'd learned our lesson. Then barre classes came along with the same basic model, and now it's showing up on Reformers.
I don't get it, except that the people in those classes tend to have young, resilient bodies that can absorb it for a while. Your body at 50 or 80 needs a way of moving that respects it, and Pilates was designed to serve you through every decade of your life.
Room at the table for everyone
I'm thrilled that more people are exercising, and there's plenty of room for every kind of studio. A franchise class that gets someone off the couch three times a week is a good thing.
I also believe an educated public is good for all of us. When people understand what they're paying for, they make better choices, and the whole profession earns more trust. That's an invitation for studio owners and teachers of every background to talk honestly with clients about what their classes offer.
This is a big reason I serve on the board of the National Pilates Certification Program. The NPCP is the only NCCA-accredited Pilates credential in the United States and internationally (at this time), and it gives the profession one shared minimum standard of education, regardless of lineage or studio model. When teacher training happens in-house, a common credential lets the public compare. If you're choosing a teacher, asking whether they're NPCP certified is a simple place to start.
Sources
The History of Pilates, National Pilates Certification Program
The Pilates Lawsuit, Balanced Body
Gordon Troy and the Trademark Lawsuit, Pilates Anytime
Pilates, Inc. v. Current Concepts, Inc., court opinion, CourtListener
This article was originally written for and published on Pilatesology.com. I'm sharing it here because the conversation it started is one I want to keep going.
Your certificate arrives, and something shifts. You trained hard, learned the material, and can teach a session. But here’s what the best teacher trainers will tell you: your training is a floor, not a ceiling. It gives you the foundation to stand on. What you build from there — over years of real bodies, real sessions, real problems — is entirely up to you. Most seasoned educators will tell you it takes a good five years of consistent practice before teaching stops being something you do and starts being something you are.
And yet our industry has a habit of treating certification as the destination. We celebrate graduation, hand over the certificate, and send new teachers out into the world without a roadmap for what comes next. That gap has always existed — but it’s wider now than ever.
The erosion of supervised teaching experience
The rise of online teacher training platforms has made entry into the profession more accessible than ever. But accessibility has come with a quiet trade-off. Many of these platforms have reduced — or in some cases eliminated — the accountability structures around the in-person component of training. And in Pilates education, that component isn’t optional. It’s foundational.
There is simply no substitute for supervised teaching experience. Being in the room with a qualified teacher trainer or supervising instructor who can watch you move, watch you teach, and give you immediate, specific, technical feedback — that is where real learning happens. Hours logged are not the same as hours truly supervised. There’s a significant difference between a teacher who completed their training and a teacher who was genuinely seen, corrected, and challenged throughout it.
That gap may not be obvious to you at first. But it shows up — in the uncertainty of not knowing what you’re looking at when a real body is in front of you, in the reliance on cueing scripts instead of genuine observation, in the feeling that something is missing even when you can’t name it. The good news is that it can be addressed. It just requires intentionality — and knowing where to look.
The landscape is richer than you think
Post-certification pathways exist. They’re just not well signposted. Here’s how to think about them:
Credentialing is the clearest professional benchmark we have. The NPCP certification signals a serious commitment to the field, and the continuing education requirements built into maintaining it create a built-in structure for your ongoing growth. If you haven’t explored it, it’s worth a serious look.
Post-graduate programs, bridge intensives, and extended study with seasoned teachers are where some of the most transformative learning happens. Programs like those offered through Vintage Pilates, The Pilates Center in Boulder, Mejo Wiggin, my own Advanced Seminar, and others create the kind of immersive, apparatus-focused, supervised experience that cannot be replicated on a screen. These aren’t just workshops — they’re structured deep dives with teachers whose knowledge lives in their hands and eyes. If your original training left gaps, these are the places to fill them.
Continuing education workshops have their place too — but approach them strategically. The question isn’t how many hours you’re accumulating. It’s what you’re specifically trying to develop, and whether this experience actually addresses it.
Digital resources — the distinction that matters
Not all online platforms are created equal — and criticizing the erosion of supervised teaching experience is not the same as dismissing the value of digital learning resources.
There is a profound difference between an online platform that replaces your in-person training experience and one that enriches and extends your ongoing development as a teacher. Pilatesology is a perfect example of the latter. The depth and breadth of teachers, lineages, and knowledge that the Pilatesology platform has gathered and preserved over the years is genuinely extraordinary — a resource that no single studio or training program could replicate. Watching a master teacher work, returning to the same video at a different stage of your career, and seeing something entirely new — that is a legitimate and valuable part of your continuing education.
The question to ask of any digital resource is simply this: is it replacing the irreplaceable, or is it adding something that couldn’t exist otherwise? The answer tells you everything you need to know about how to use it.
The peer-to-peer layer most teachers skip
One of the most underused tools for your growth costs the least: your colleagues. Observation exchanges, study groups, video review with a trusted peer — these create a kind of accountability and honest reflection that solo practice never will. There’s a real difference between talking about your teaching and actually looking at it together. Think of it as a teaching date — equal parts revealing, inspiring, and energizing. It’s one of the best-kept secrets in professional development, and the teachers who do it can’t imagine going back. Grab a colleague or two, pick a session, and see what you discover. You might be surprised how much fun it is.
Mentorship in both directions
Here's where I want to slow down, because there's a genuine misunderstanding in our community about what mentorship actually is.
Mentorship is not advanced teacher training. It's not taking more classes or finding someone to give you the answers. It's a relationship built around inquiry, reflection, and growth that unfolds over time. A true mentor doesn't fix your teaching. They help you see it. If you feel those gaps, especially if your training was light on supervised hours, finding an experienced mentor for one-on-one work can be the single most impactful investment you make. Not another workshop. Not another credential. A relationship.
But there's a second direction to mentorship that most teachers never consider: learning to be a mentor yourself.
The skills are learnable. Developing them deepens your own teaching in ways that are hard to get anywhere else — and they open a distinct professional chapter, whether you're a studio owner building staff, a teacher trainer expanding your range, or an experienced teacher ready to play a bigger role in this field.
Before going further, it's worth separating three things we keep conflating. Technical feedback is the clearest: correction, placement, precision. Teaching feedback is harder — it requires someone to watch you in the room and help you see what they see. Most teachers have never been on the receiving end of it. After graduation, feedback on teaching tends to stop; what continues is feedback on technique. Mentorship is different in kind. The mentor's job is to stay curious about where you're headed long enough to ask the question that gets you there — not hand over the answer.
We train teachers to work with clients. We don't train experienced teachers to develop other teachers. That gap is where I want to put my energy.
Thursday, June 18. Zoom. 5:00 PM EST / 2:00 PM PT / 11:00 PM CET.
Mentorship as a Skill: A Conversation for Experienced Teachers
Register even if you can't make it live — the recording goes to everyone who signs up.
This is an open conversation. Come ready to think out loud. Whether you're stepping into a new role or just feel the pull toward something you haven't named yet.
In January 2027, Handspring Publishing will release my book Pilates Handbook: Tools for Developing Your Skills as a Teacher — a practical guide to self-assessment, peer feedback, and mentorship as an ongoing practice, for teachers across every Pilates tradition.
What moves you? Beyond the exercises, beyond the apparatus, what truly ignites your commitment to showing up for Pilates day after day?
After three decades of teaching movement—from my early days exploring various disciplines to my life's work in classical Pilates—I've discovered that the most transformative practices aren't just about building strength or flexibility. They're about something deeper: keeping our spark alive.
The Foundation: The A.B.C.'s of Movement
Before we explore what keeps that spark burning, let's establish the foundation. For me, whether I'm teaching on the Reformer, Mat, Chair, or any apparatus, three principles remain constant— my A.B.C.'s of movement:
Alignment - Finding your optimal relationship to gravity and space
Breathing - The bridge between body and mind, effort and ease
Conscious Awareness - Movement with purpose, not just going through the motions
These aren't just technical checkboxes. They're invitations to be fully present in your body, to meet yourself where you are today, and to move with intention rather than autopilot.
Beyond Exercise: Pilates as Re(creation)
Here's what I've learned teaching everyone from professional athletes to those just beginning their movement journey: Pilates isn't just about building core strength or achieving perfect form. It's about recreation (read re-creation) in the truest sense of the word—creating ourselves anew, taking a break from the relentless demands of modern life, and reconnecting with our inner vitality.
In today's fast-paced world, we desperately need spaces where we can step away from our routine stressors and rediscover what makes us feel alive. The Pilates studio isn't just a place to work out; it's a sanctuary for this essential re-creation.
The S.P.A.R.K. Philosophy
My approach to teaching—and to life—centers on helping people maintain their S.P.A.R.K.:
Self-Discovery - Being inspired, taking risks, trying new things. Every time you attempt a new variation or challenge yourself with a different piece of apparatus, you're discovering what your body can do. There's magic in that moment when you realize you're capable of more than you believed.
Passion - Igniting the imagination, awakening the senses. Pilates should never feel like punishment or obligation. When we move with awareness and curiosity, we awaken our senses and reconnect with the joy of embodiment.
Accountability - Taking responsibility for your health in body, mind, and spirit. This isn't about perfection or harsh self-judgment. It's about showing up consistently and honoring your commitment to your own well-being.
Recreation - Keeping your practice fun, fulfilling, and playful. Yes, Pilates is disciplined work. But it can also hold moments of lightness, humor, and play. Balance and joy aren't opposites of dedication—they're what make dedication sustainable.
Karma - Keeping yourself fit and healthy so you have more to give back to your family, friends, community, and work. When we tend to our own vitality, we become more present and generous with others. Self-care isn't selfish; it's how we sustain our ability to contribute to the world around us.
Holding the Space for Possibility
When I work with students, I hold open the possibility that they can do their best each day—that they can reach just a little further than they thought possible. I never allow negativity, self-doubt, or "can't" into the space. This isn't about forced positivity or ignoring limitations. It's about creating an environment where students feel supported enough to explore their edges, where they can meet challenge with curiosity rather than fear. I communicate this through body language, facial expressions, tone of voice, and most importantly, through my intention. I stay present in the moment, ready to turn an ordinary exercise into a breakthrough experience. Sometimes it's a perfectly timed cue. Sometimes it's catching someone's eye at just the right moment. Sometimes it's knowing when to push and when to ease off.
Meeting Yourself in the Moment
At its best, Pilates is a lifestyle choice that gives us the opportunity to meet ourselves in the moment. Not who we were yesterday. Not who we hope to be tomorrow. But who we are right now, in this body, with this breath, in this moment. Through consistent practice—whether on the Reformer, the Mat, the Chair, or any apparatus—we reconnect with our inner energy, our life force, and our commitment to well-being. We learn to move with the clarity of proper alignment, the creativity of exploring variations, and the charisma that comes from being fully embodied and present.
An Invitation
My invitation to you is simple: approach your Pilates practice as an opportunity for re-creation. Bring your A.B.C.'s—alignment, breathing, and conscious awareness—to every session. And nurture your S.P.A.R.K. through self-discovery, passion, accountability, recreation, and the recognition that caring for yourself allows you to show up more fully for everything else in your life. Because when we keep our spark alive, we don't just change our bodies. We transform how we move through the world.
This philosophy has guided my teaching journey from competitive swimming and lacrosse to earning my Physical Education degree, from exploring multiple movement disciplines to finding my home in classical Pilates under Romana Kryzanowska. It's shaped how I've created programs, trained teachers, and run my studio, Progressive Bodyworks, for more than two decades. But most importantly, it's what keeps me showing up to the work with fresh eyes and an open heart, ready to help students discover their own spark.
