Vizzy D Darlings, This week we're jumping into language and I'm inviting you to embrace this prompt in two ways: 1. Reflect on your own relationship with language in your corner of death and grief care. What's changed and evolved in you and your work? 2. How might you share this as advocacy? On socials, in a blog post, in an interview, in a conversation with someone. How can you more concisely weave and speak the evolution of death care language into your work and world? 🐦‍⬛ There's so much within language that's nuanced to who we are, where we work and what we do. A funeral director in a regional town carries different words than a chaplain in a city hospital, than a doula sitting with someone dying at home. None of us are working from the same script, and I don't think we should be. And yet, reflecting on the language we uphold and perpetuate in this work is relevant no matter where we live and what we do. It's culturally nuanced and our responses will all be different. It's something we should all keep tending to. For example, a lot of the western Anglo-centric grief language encourages us to "ask their name", or to "speak their name" to honour that person's loss and keep their memory alive. Some of my ‘best performing’ social posts are about exactly this. And yet, when I support First Nations families here in Australia, the cultural protocol is the opposite. In some communities you DON'T speak their name for the first year, to ensure their spirit can be free in the Dreamtime and not unsettled during a time when it needs to move on undisturbed. When supporting Sorry Business (the Indigenous name for death care and funeral rites), I always ask permission to speak their name or ask how best to refer to the person who has died. There will be nuance with this in all countries and communities. 🐦‍⬛ Here's some more examples from me if helpful. I haven't quite worked out how I want to share this as advocacy, but feel free to borrow or apply anything that resonates for you.

Soooo glad you're here, welcome friend! I'm Amy - interfaith minister, funeral director, and recovering marketing consultant. I made this community because too many good death care practitioners are invisible to the families who need them. And I've spent long enough on both sides of that problem to know exactly why - and what to do about it. For the past decade I've sat with dying people, held families in their rawest hours, and designed ceremonies that actually look & feel like the person who died. Before that - and running alongside it - I spent fifteen years working as a communications and marketing consultant across the arts, education, charities and corporate organisations. Building brands, running campaigns, creating content, helping people find a clear voice in the world. Which means I understand, from the inside, why visibility feels so uncomfortable in this field. The sense that promoting yourself is somehow at odds with the sacredness of the work. The hesitation before posting. The undercharging. The relying on word of mouth and hoping it's enough. I also know that when good practitioners stay invisible, families default - to the loudest option, the most conventional model, the one that moves quickly and perpetuates the dominant model in death care so many of us are trying to disrupt. That's what this community is for. Figuring out how to be findable, in a way that actually fits this work. So - tell me who you are, where you're based, and what kind of death care work you do. I'd love to know who's in the room... I'm just so glad we've all found each other. x