I recently completed a class project that involved researching local cemeteries. I knew nothing about any of the cemeteries in my area (and it turns out there are a lot). Cemeteries, to be honest, really creep me out. In a cemetery death is so apparent. It always made me feel a little unsettled - I'm constantly being reminded of my own impending (but hopefully far-off) death. Which is not super fun, in my humble opinion.
This weekend I was on a walk and I realized that I was right the Ross Bay cemetery, which I had just been researching online. It is a Victorian-era cemetery, often celebrated for its natural beauty and impressive monuments. It has some unsavoury history too -- the cemetery is largely segregated on the basis of race and income.
Image via flickriver user wild prairie man
As I approached the entrance to the cemetery I knew I had to go in a take a look around. I would have been such a missed opportunity if I hadn't - it was literally right in front of me, and internet research can only get you so far. In a way, going into the cemetery was a tool of self-betterment. If I want to be an archeologist, I should probably work on becoming more comfortable with death.
Image via flickr user ai.dan
At first, I found the cemetery quite eerie. It was also incredibly foggy this weekend, which only contributed to the ghostly atmosphere. However, after walking around I felt myself feeling far more calm and peaceful. It really is a beautiful place -- the Victorian monuments are stunning, and the natural beauty of the cemetery is impressive. Although it is a place of death, it doesn't necessarily feel "deathly". Being there conjured up feelings of remembrance and commemoration. The deathly aspect of the cemetery felt like a side-thought: it seemed like remembering and respecting life was of key importance.
Something that surprised me was the obvious segregation in the cemetery - of course I knew it was segregated by my online research, but for some reason the transparency of the segregation shocked me. Sections of the cemetery were clear: Anglican plots over here, Chinese plots over there, and so on. The Ross Bay Cemetery is a celebrated landmark, and it is discomforting that more attention is not paid to addressing discriminatory aspects of the cemetery. Most of the online sources I consulted about Ross Bay Cemetery speak about it's beauty and tranquility. It's difficult to come to terms with the colonial outlook and the discrimination that the cemetery was established upon. It made me feel uncomfortable at an individual level for almost enjoying walking through the cemetery, and at a more societal level, as the Ross Bay Cemetery is quite celebrated.
Something that surprised me was the obvious segregation in the cemetery - of course I knew it was segregated by my online research, but for some reason the transparency of the segregation shocked me. Sections of the cemetery were clear: Anglican plots over here, Chinese plots over there, and so on. The Ross Bay Cemetery is a celebrated landmark, and it is discomforting that more attention is not paid to addressing discriminatory aspects of the cemetery. Most of the online sources I consulted about Ross Bay Cemetery speak about it's beauty and tranquility. It's difficult to come to terms with the colonial outlook and the discrimination that the cemetery was established upon. It made me feel uncomfortable at an individual level for almost enjoying walking through the cemetery, and at a more societal level, as the Ross Bay Cemetery is quite celebrated.
Image via access Victoria
Despite my feelings of unease, I am happy that I walked through the cemetery. Critical reflection is important. Additionally, I certainly feel less creeped out by cemeteries now! Perhaps in the future I'll return to the Ross Bay Cemetery and analyze it in a more critical manner.
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