Obituaries

At first, I was scared. I was certain no one would want to talk to me, that friends and family would (understandably) be grieving too much, and that no matter how sensitive I was, I would be seen as intrusive. Why would anyone want to speak about the death of someone close to them, especially just after they had passed away?

A while after the obituaries I wrote were published, I saw the film “Obit.” It’s a documentary that explores the fascinating work of obituary writers at The New York Times. One of those writers points out in the film that most of the time, only a couple of sentences in an obituary are about death.

And perhaps that’s why I was surprised to find that, most of the time, the people I talked to about a friend or family member’s death were very receptive. They were quick to agree to interviews, and when I talked to them about their memories of a person, they’d often give a small smile as they recounted their experiences.

And as I wrote the obituary itself, stringing together shared laughs and unforgettable memories, I felt like I was forming a relationship of my own with the subject, perhaps the type of relationship one might form with a biographer or ghostwriter.

In “Obit,” one of the obituary writers discussed how, by writing an article of about 800 words to document a person’s life, you have to make decisions about what’s most important about a person’s life. That on its own makes the relationship between a person and their obituary writer feel even closer.

Even though I had never talked to the subjects of my obituaries, had never known them or even heard their names, by the time I finished writing, I felt like I knew them better than some of my good friends.

I quickly came to realize that obituaries aren’t about death at all.

They’re exactly the opposite. They’re celebrations of life, documents that honor a person’s life and mark their place in history.

The fear I had, going into reporting for the obituaries, didn’t go away, even after the articles were done. Even after we had sent the newspaper to our printers, I kept myself awake, worrying about whether I had spelled someone’s name right, or that I had gotten the most minuscule of facts right.

Because if there’s one story you definitely don’t want to have to write a correction for, it’s an obituary.

In “Obit,” the New York Times writers reflect on whether writing obituaries makes them think more about their own mortality. They all give different answers, but there is a theme of reflecting on life, and appreciating it more.

After writing obituaries for my school’s newspaper, I felt largely the same way. I thought about how I might be remembered in an obituary, and I found myself valuing moments and relationships in my own life more.

When you think of journalism, obituaries probably aren’t the first thing that come to mind. But at least for me, they’ve provided a distinctly reflective experience, and a new insight into the world of journalism.

Karan Nevatia is a recent graduate from Aragon High School in San Mateo. Student News appears in the weekend edition. You can email Student News at news@smdailyjournal.com.