I have had many moments in school, high school in particular, where I’ve questioned if what I was studying would ever be relevant in any real-world sense. This is a common critique leveled against our education system in Canada, and through my travels, I have heard a similar frustration among friends from Melbourne, to Houston, to Taipei. This semester, however, connections seemed to appear everywhere. I have found that having my daily life experiences connect back to what I have learned in my classes not only helps me to understand the applicability of higher-level ideas in a more practical sense, but also helps remind me of why I’m here at university. The Coordinated Arts Program is designed to explore the interconnectedness of ideas and experiences, and has helped me better understand my own real life experiences. During a recent hardship, I have had one of my most profound connections to the theories we have pursued in ASTU, which I would like to briefly share.
I have always questioned the public, ceremonial function of funerals in processing grief. Why is it necessary for such an intimate human experience to be made so formal and so public? I couldn’t understand why a public display of grief would be beneficial in the healing process, as I thought that the effect of group commemoration would intensify and maybe even prolong the pain. My skepticism remained as we analyzed Marita Sturken’s article on public memorialization and when we discussed the effects of physical 9/11 memorials. While I could see the argument for collectivized grieving in theory, I remained unconvinced that public expressions of grief served a useful purpose. However, a recent and tragic passing of a friend back home has changed my opinion, and my studies of trauma and grieving in ASTU have played a role in my own personal healing for which I’m grateful. I found myself consumed in dissecting my own grief process in relation to what I have learned about trauma in ASTU. Although I know it is rather personal, I’d still like to engage in this topic, as it has been an eye-opening realization for me this year.
When you live in a small town all of your life, you have a sort of love-hate relationship with your community; part of you gets irritated by the blurred boundaries of public and private life, while the other part of you values having a support system that extends to practically everyone in your locality. My appreciation for community was renewed when my town gathered to commemorate my friend.
The word “closure” is used a lot when talking about the benefit of collectivized commemoration, but I don’t see it as an accurate word to describe how I felt after attending the funeral. Instead, I had a feeling of connectedness to those around me, and the effect of that had the most lasting resonance. My realization, and the point that has made me shift my thinking on public grieving, was how this experience drew upon strength rather than cultivating a sense of despair. Seeing the resilience of others as we were able to laugh and share stories together, made me appreciate the uplifting and comforting effects of public remembrance. Although there is no magic fix for a traumatic loss, I did not leave the funeral with a deeper wound filled with the grief of others, as I had once imagined, but rather I found it to be a life-affirming experience.
Thank you to all my classmates, as my learning this year has been assisted with your insights in ASTU and the larger CAP stream. I am going to miss hearing from you all every week!
