For this writing, I borrow the term of hermeneutic injustice, a type of epistemic injustice, coined by Fricker [1] and mentioned in the class material paper by Rekis [2]. In words of Rekis, hermeneutical injustice refers to “having one’s experience rendered unintelligible, either to oneself or to others, on account of a structural prejudice in the collective imagination that manifests in our collective hermeneutical resources”. They exemplify with the case of women entering the workforce that struggle to name and point out the harm of sexual harassment.
I want to apply this, in the light of beliefs and religion, for the specific case of death and how do we deal with it culturally.
In Latin America, where I come from, death is, in a way, much more present than in Protestant cultures. When someone dies, especially in countries like Mexico or Central America, the dead is, in a way, still present (an idea well represented – although distorted through the Disney lens – in the movie Coco). Family and friends make sure to speak about our dead, we light up candles, we visit their graves, and we blur the mental line of what is to be physically and spiritually present.
Living in the UK, I have witnessed the sharp contrast. But this is not only a cultural difference. There is a structural engrained way of dealing with death within the UK – and, in particular, within the academic culture present in UAL. This could be summarised as a highly respectful and private relationship with death.
Last year, one of our staff members sadly passed away. I barely knew them, but regardless I felt there should have been an opportunity for all of us to gather on behalf of them, remember them, maybe know more about them. Instead, the process was kept in the most intimate family and friend’s circle, inviting us to send words if we wished so. This left an awkward sensation in me. Although they weren’t close to me, I felt I needed to deal with this in a different way. I needed more ceremony, more speaking, more images, music.
This experience has also prompted me to reflect on how these differing hermeneutical resources shape my teaching practice at UAL. I have realised that I tend to approach education not simply as the transmission of knowledge but as the cultivation of relationships and communities that extend beyond the immediate classroom. My understanding of learning is intertwined with the importance of collective rituals, shared memories and acknowledging those who have shaped us, whether they are present or absent. Consequently, I often feel a tension between my inclination to create moments of collective reflection and an institutional culture that privileges individual experience, privacy and professional distance. While these values undoubtedly protect personal autonomy, they also leave me wondering whether other ways of building academic communities—through shared remembrance, communal acknowledgement of loss, or more explicit recognition of those who came before us—become difficult to imagine or legitimise. In this sense, the hermeneutical framework through which death is understood also influences what forms of care, belonging and community are considered appropriate within higher education.
References
Fricker, M. (2007). Epistemic injustice: Power and the ethics of knowing. Oxford university press.
Rekis, J. (2023). Religious identity and epistemic injustice: an intersectional account. Hypatia, 38(4), 779-800.
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