If you experience a loss that is shared by a large group, you might well experience collective grief. What are some examples?
Shared loss can come in many different forms. One of the most common is when a well known figure dies. The death of an accomplished actor, an influential musician, or sports idol can be very powerful, and affect a large group of people.
When Prince died, for example, people gathered outside his Minnesota home to pay their respects. Sales of his albums spiked, and many fans wore his signature color purple in his honor.
Another example is some sort of large-scale tragedy. Individuals tell stories of where they were and what they were doing on September 11, 2001. Shocking events, like the assassination of JFK, the attack on Pearl Harbor, or the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger were all notable and seared into public consciousness.
There have been several of these events over the last decade or so. In one year alone, we had the public shutdown from COVID-19 in March 2020, followed by the marches after the murder of George Floyd later that summer, to the attack on the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021. Each event, in it’s own way, was cause for grief and sorrow.
Are there events, these or others, that led to a large outpouring of emotion for you and people around you? Have you experienced a neighborhood trying to find a way to make sense of tragedy, as frustration and grief and anger all go through individuals and groups? What has brought solace to you, as well as to friends and neighbors in your community?
Related questions: How can we turn sadness into constructive action? How do you maintain hope? With which groups do you identify? Are we living through history?
My community, the Twin Cities, has experienced its fair share of collective grief recently. Three cases of murder have brought the community together, each leading calls for change.
While it feels like yesterday, nearly six years ago, George Floyd was murdered by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. For over nine minutes, Chauvin knelt on Floyd’s neck, making it impossible for him to breathe. Three other officers helped hold Floyd down, doing nothing to stop Floyd’s death. A brave teenager, Darnella Frazier, videotaped the full incident, sparking millions of people across the globe to protest police brutality as part of the Black Lives Matter movement. In Minneapolis, the city where the murder occurred, mourners began creating George Floyd Square.
Last year, Vance Luther Boelter assassinated Minnesota state representative Melissa Hortman, her husband Mark, and their dog Gilbert. Boelter had a long list of leaders who were his targets, including Minnesota state senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette. Both were seriously injured in the attack. Shortly afterward, hundreds gathered at the State Capitol for a silent vigil to honor Hortman and her family. As a result of the killings, many lawmakers and their staff admitted they felt scared for their safety. Calls for reducing inflamatory political rhetoric immediately followed the incident. Unfortunately, the appeals have gone unanswered. In fact, just days ago, President Trump shared a video on his Truth Social account, falsely linking Governor Walz to the murders.
Lastly, just days ago, Renee Nicole Good, a Minneapolis resident, was murdered by a federal ICE agent, Jonathan Ross. The killing occurred as over 2000 federal agents descended on our community, aiming to arrest and deport hundreds of immigrants, with the Somali and Latino communities as primary targets. Several elected officials stated that Good had been acting as a legal observer of ICE activities shortly before she tried to leave the area in her SUV. While there have been numerous highly attended protests demanding ICE leave the Twin Cities since Good’s murder, one particularly notable event was a vigil on the night of her death, which drew over 10,000 mourners.
So, I’ve reported the incidents of collective grief and calls for change, but I have not shared how I have experienced these events. Admittedly, I don’t handle grief of any kind very well. Large displays of collective grief often leave me feeling more isolated than I would have otherwise. For instance, at the vigil after Melissa Hortman’s death, I spent most of my time sitting silently on the steps of the Capitol. I barely acknowledged those I knew who also attended because I had nothing constructive to say. It all relates to the anxiety I feel at such events.
Fortunately, I do much better in small gatherings. I can share my feelings and support those around me during their grief. This has happened in three meetings, where we began meetings for other reasons by offering attendees a chance to talk about how they were coping with the collective hardship. In both instances, I was able to participate constructively for myself and others.