“As anyone who's been around the sun more than once knows, death is a part of life. It's arguably what makes life so urgently meaningful for most people...I think it's healthy to try to find some sort of way to go on living after someone that you love and cherish has passed.” - Gordon Coonsfield
Hello friends,
Such an unsettling week for me. I’m sure we all get them from time-to-time. An old colleague with Alzheimer’s disease died. Someone had a heart-attack at the gym (the person is alive thanks to people around them knowing what to do), a double fatality on our beautiful Sydney Harbour Bridge. That’s only part of it. A place I frequently visit on holiday suddenly seemed to have changed (that’s a story for another day). And.. the beaches near me have been closed because tar balls have been washed up on the sand. These events, in the space of a fortnight, are just a layer of what is going on around us: storms, war, more war. I think it’s time to switch off the news for a while.
What brought me a lot of joy was starting my new once-a month webinar series in collaboration with
on memorialising. For Episode One I spoke to Professor Gordon Coonfield of Villanova University in Pennsylvania who studies the street-side memorials of Kensington, PA. He has documented his work here.Why should we be interested in these (illegal) public memorials?
Because the people who died were humans.
Because they were loved.
Because the people who erected those memorials are grieving.
If you don’t know it already, those of us who live in cities are surrounded by memorials although too often, the ones that attract our attention are connected to war and genocide. I too find war memorials fascinating. I search for the names and the ages. I think about the millions of families who were shattered by the loss of their (mostly) sons and how many families never recovered.
In our conversation, Gordon talks about the events of 11 September 2001 and how, with so many people erecting shrines and mourning the loss of loved ones, he started to think deeply about collective memory in his academic work. [You can read more about collective memory here]
In the video at 15.16 Gordon takes us on a tour of Kensington’s memorials which he’s documented over the past seven years. It was an eye-opener. Our live audience was touched by the story of Frannie Girl who was widely mourned after her death last year.
Gordon also touched on how the makeshift memorials of Kensington are democratic. They are erected by the people, for the people. And they are rarely permanent. Contrast this with the sprawling, ageing cemeteries that governments are struggling to know what to do with in our increasingly crowded world.
I hope you’ll take the time to listen to the episode which you can find here:
“Who gets to decide what memories are memorialized and what things are not? I think it's the same as asking whose life matters, whose life has value and whose doesn't... And I think this is a reminder that all human lives have value. Even the ones that we don't agree with and the ones that we think smell bad and whatever else. All human life has some kind of value and that all of these different cultures are a reminder that this is who we are. This is what connects us. It's where we come from.” - Gordon Coonfield
Thank-you friends. I welcome your comments as always and thanks for reading and listening. If you have any ideas or thoughts for me to create more episodes for Forget Me Not, please let me know. Our 20 November episode is with eulogy writer
. You can register here
Jane, this first episode of your new series was remarkable. Gordon was the perfect guest and I did love many of his quotes, especially those included here. It's a shame that many public memorials are not legal, as I feel they are vital to remembering those that left us. Looking forward to episode 2
It was a fabulous presentation - thanks! I couldn't help but think of visiting the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma two weeks after the bombing there in 1995. There was a chainlink fence around the site, and it was covered with notes, poems, stuffed animals, flowers and photos - so many photos. Nearly 30 years later, I still get chills thinking about the power of those spontaneous public memorials.