I felt somewhat out of place as a few people in black walked by...by being there for a project, and not to pay my respects, was I being disrespectful? Despite having no personal connection to any of the people buried there, I still found myself walking around the grave markers, being very careful not to step on the actual burials, taking a look at all the graves I passed, and apologizing in my head if I happened to break these rules I had. And despite being somewhat tempted to look beneath cracked gravestones, I didn't, thinking that doing so would be completely unacceptable.There was also a definite mood that set in over the course of our analysis, one of a quiet, peaceful exploration, rather than a search for certain "specimens". Why do graveyards affect us this way and why do we, as individuals rather than a culture, treat the dead the way we do?
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| Our group at Ross Bay Cemetery - are the smiles too much? |
This is, of course, a question without one single answer. Decades of cultural integration, change, and pragmatic decisions have influenced our behavior. We learn from our parents and take these lessons and make them fit with our own personal views. It seems like a lot of practice must go into this kind of code. But I have only ever been present at one funeral, and the only other graveyards I have visited have been on walks through historic churches or other similar situations. So I found it kind of funny that I had such a strong reaction, wanting to follow the "proper" etiquette in Ross Bay cemetery.
The emotional experience of being there also gave me a new perspective on the practice of archaeology. Being an anthropology student (and taking a class on death), I have obviously been exposed to many burials, burial practices, excavations, explorations, etc etc etc. Until Saturday, however, I found it hard to think of the individuals uncovered in excavations as people, with names, families, and a whole history of life behind them. Ross Bay showed me that it is actually very possible to have a connection to burials, even if they are very old. Having personally felt those connections, I feel that I now have a much better appreciation for the moral dilemmas associated with archaeology and the complex understandings involved in decisions and negotiations with other culture groups (like excavations of First Nations graves, for example). I guess now I have a personal conflict about whether or not excavations are the right way to discover the past - I love the information that comes out of excavations, but it is so important to understand the culture and their practices before we go and dig everyone up, to make sure that it would be somehow "ok" with them. And then, of course, this is a catch 22. How can we know anything about them if we have nothing to study?
I guess I've just now caught on to a debate that has been going on for a long time. I doubt I'll be the one to answer any of these questions, but I feel better now that I am able to fully comprehend both sides. Maybe it will make me a better archaeologist, or maybe it will make me quit, but either way, it is an interesting struggle that has really managed to dig itself into my brain!
This is a fantastic example of reflection in writing. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteVery well put. I was doing the same thing this last weekend and I was quite unsure how to conduct myself. I did feel slightly odd wandering around taking photos and I forced myself to be extra walking near the graves and grave markers.
ReplyDeleteThis was not really something I had thought much about before. Many of the graves were more recent than expected and that made it far more real. I only anticipated graves from 100 or so years ago, figuring Ross Bay had long been full.