The Cemetery of all Cemeteries

Nothing silences me like going to a cemetery. There is something so eerie about walking above dead bodies and, to be honest, ever since I was little it has creeped me out. But at the same time, there is something about cemeteries that makes me so respectful of human life. It is a place to contemplate and appreciate… and on this cloudy, autumn, Sunday afternoon, it was a place to examine, analyze, and study for our World Politics class.
First of all, since we were talking a lot about power I started thinking about the most powerful aspect of the Arlington National Cemetery. What strikes me most, and I’m sure many others, is seeing the vast sea of uniform gravestones. It seems like these small, simple, white gravestones go as far as the eye can see. That sheer image gives a visitor the feeling of respect and admiration. You realize that each grave holds a unique individual that is just like you or your neighbor, but at the same time the reason that this cemetery is so powerful is because of the unity of these soldiers. Together, these men and women fought for our country, so together they rest. At first I had qualms about the uniformity of the gravestones because it does have the tendency to strip every soldier of his or her individuality. However, after contemplation today at the cemetery I resolved that it is a beautiful thing when people can come together and identify themselves beyond their own physical composition and identify with other people or a cause. As a soldier you are not only yourself, but you are a part of something bigger and this passion that the soldiers (dead or alive) share radiated throughout the cemetery even on this chilly Sunday afternoon.
Along that same line, the uniformity served to show that everyone was equal. To the onlooker, you see no signs of individuality like race, ethnicity, age, or ranking in either the military or our social class structure. No one was better or worse than another. That is why it bothered me in a way when we reached a point in the cemetery where the gravestones became varied. I almost had this thought of “do they think they are better than everyone else?” and I was annoyed that it ruined the unity that I felt in the rest of the cemetery. Now I realize that is wrong of me to think because everyone should be allowed to choose their own gravestones, but I still think these different gravestones ruined that solidarity that I noticed everywhere else.
Did anyone else notice the gun that the soldier guarding the tomb of the unknown was holding? Rachel and I already discussed this, but it kind of looked like a bayonet. It didn’t look like one of those scary guns we saw on the website last week, but instead it looked more…. Elegant? Classy? It was a pretty piece of metal, or at least as pretty as a gun can be. But all this talk that we have had about guns just prompted me to consider why this guard even needs a gun? Is he honestly trying to defend himself? I bet there must be some real crazies that come to the Arlington Cemetery… but I don’t know if he needs a gun. Perhaps the gun is held by the guards to give them purpose and make them feel like they are actually protecting something. Because honestly, there is no point of that gun nor is there really a point of the guards to protect an already dead unknown soldier. It seems silly when you boil it down to that, but don’t think I am mocking the tradition. I just find it interesting that our country values symbols like this one so heavily. The symbol of the guard and the symbol of the gun represent our country as strong, powerful, and confident. And as millions of people witness the changing of the guard every year, these concepts are reinforced into the minds of American and world citizens.