Language of loss

Professor Helen Chan Yue-lai at CUHK’s Nethersole School of Nursing, who is a scholar of life-and-death education, has observed a wave of “gentle reminders” circulating on social media urging people to avoid the word “death” and replace it with euphemisms such as “crossing the Rainbow Bridge” or “graduation”, and to rephrase “the burning of paper offerings” as “a delivery service”. Such linguistic distortions, she cautions, would only deepen societal taboos on talking about death, effectively silencing those who want to mourn their loss.

“When death becomes unspeakable, survivors begin to wonder whether they are allowed to talk about their pain. ‘Am I allowed to speak of this? Will I make others uncomfortable?’” Chan says. She brings up a traditional Chinese consolation, jie ai (節哀), meaning “restrain your grief”, which is often used to console the bereaved. While spoken with kind intentions, the term can imply that sorrow should be suppressed and concealed. “But why should tears be forbidden?” she asks. “Why is the pain of loss treated as something to hide?”

Every person who is affected by the tragedy needs room to grieve. “When someone wants to speak but finds no listener, they feel trapped,” she says. “Our role is to remain open and provide channels for that expression of heartache.”

Transience of life

For Professor Chan, the disaster is a stark reminder of life’s fragility and impermanence, a subject that has long been culturally sidelined in Hong Kong. While conversations about life-and-death education following the fire may be misunderstood as reopening wounds, she sees this time of tribulation as an opportunity for more honest public engagement with life and loss.

“Accepting impermanence reminds us to cherish every day we remain among the living,” the professor says. She shares “four practices of life” in life-and-death education: to give thanks, to express love, to apologise and to say goodbye – acts that are doable only as long as there is life.

Being human

Everyone can move forward at their own pace, say Dr Eric Au Yeung Kwok-wai and Dr Moon Law Yee-man from the Department of Social Work. “It’s normal to feel sad, but we don’t have to think we must remain in sorrow all the time,” says Dr Law. “We can embrace the paradox of accepting our grief while continuing to live our daily lives.”

The two scholars emphasise that confronting grief head-on is a crucial part of the emotional healing process and can be done collectively. Dr Au Yeung says: “For instance, various memorial activities provide platforms for the public to come together, share emotions and feelings, and encourage one another. This sense of togetherness and mutual support offer a channel for expression and a sense of comfort to those affected.”

He notes that the selfless dedication that was on display is a precious force that unites the community. It would inspire and support a collective effort to rebuild homes. “Community stakeholders such as shops, schools, non-governmental organisations, health centres and the Social Welfare Department can all offer support in different forms, fostering connections and a sense of belonging. It also strengthens the community’s social capital to facilitate collaboration among individuals and groups,” he says.

Dr Au Yeung further suggests that integrating knowledge of disaster prevention and life education into school curricula can improve the public’s ability to respond to a calamity. Government departments could also hold regular community drills to raise awareness of safety and rebuild confidence in urban safety.

To CUHK members affected by the fire, Dr Law says: “Our campus is a warm, safe place, with strong bonds between teachers and students. I hope they can feel our care and support.” Dr Au Yeung also shares a few words of encouragement: “Keep going, commemorate within, discover meaning in life, and embark on the path forward as one.”