The cemetery flows outward - undulating hills of tombstones - an infinite sea of sorrow, hopes, life and death.
Have you ever visited a place so powerful that it reshapes the way you think about life, history, and even your own place in the world? That’s what happened to our family during a recent trip to Washington, D.C., when we visited Arlington National Cemetery. The trip was meant to be a quiet moment of reflection on what it means to be American, but it quickly turned into a deep conversation about sacredness, connection, and what it means to be remembered.
If you’ve been to Arlington, you know its impact is hard to put into words. The endless rows of white tombstones stretch across rolling hills, creating a visual rhythm that feels both serene and overwhelming.
As our conversation unfolded, we wondered if any place could be sacred, even our own backyard. At first, the question felt almost irreverent, but the more we discussed it, the more profound it became. Could sacredness be a matter of intention? If we treated our backyard—or any other place—with the same care and respect as Arlington, could it take on a similar sense of meaning?
Maybe sacredness isn’t inherent to a place but is created by how we choose to treat it. At Arlington, the silence, the care, and the stories we bring to those headstones make it more than a cemetery. It becomes a living reminder of sacrifice and service, a place where history and humanity intersect.
"The graves stretch in perfect rows, like seeds sown in the earth for an otherworldly harvest—a future feast of souls. Will these blooms rise beyond to the next realm, nourished by the tears, loss, and pain left behind in this one?"
It was a tricky question to answer, but we came to this: The unknown soldier represents more than an individual. They symbolize all the sacrifices made without recognition, the countless contributions that shape our world without ever being attributed to a single name. Honoring the unknown isn’t about a specific person; it’s about the idea that every life matters, even if it goes unseen.
It’s a reminder, too, of the unseen contributions in our own lives—the small acts of kindness or bravery that might not make headlines but still ripple outward, shaping the world in quiet, powerful ways.
It’s a question that touches on a fundamental tension in human experience—the desire to be seen as unique, balanced against the need to belong to something greater. Is this the key to the existential validation we crave?
Each tombstone at Arlington represents a life, a story, an individual. Yet together, they form a collective, a reminder of the power of unity. And therein lies the tension: How do we honor the uniqueness of each life while also acknowledging the power and awe of the collective?
It’s a question we wrestle with daily, isn’t it? We want to stand out, to be seen for who we are. But we also crave connection, the feeling of being part of a tribe, a community, a family. At Arlington, that tension is palpable—each tombstone unique, yet undeniably part of a vast, interconnected whole.
This sparked an idea for a communication tool that we’ve started using (as parents as well as Guides), which we call “A Coin and A Path”.
Reframing other people’s actions as an attempt to be seen or to connect and then using that to chart a productive path forward is a superpower I hope to continue to develop. I suspect it will enable me to better communicate boundaries in a way that strengthens, rather than weakens my interactions and relationships with others.
Who knew a trip to a cemetery - a place seeping with death - would illuminate such a foundational truth about life?
Have you ever visited a place so powerful that it reshapes the way you think about life, history, and even your own place in the world? That’s what happened to our family during a recent trip to Washington, D.C., when we visited Arlington National Cemetery. The trip was meant to be a quiet moment of reflection on what it means to be American, but it quickly turned into a deep conversation about sacredness, connection, and what it means to be remembered.
If you’ve been to Arlington, you know its impact is hard to put into words. The endless rows of white tombstones stretch across rolling hills, creating a visual rhythm that feels both serene and overwhelming.
What Makes a Place Sacred?
Standing among the rows of tombstones, we couldn’t help but ask: What makes this place sacred? Is it the history? The people buried here? Or is it something we bring to it—a sense of reverence, perhaps, or a collective understanding of its importance?As our conversation unfolded, we wondered if any place could be sacred, even our own backyard. At first, the question felt almost irreverent, but the more we discussed it, the more profound it became. Could sacredness be a matter of intention? If we treated our backyard—or any other place—with the same care and respect as Arlington, could it take on a similar sense of meaning?
Maybe sacredness isn’t inherent to a place but is created by how we choose to treat it. At Arlington, the silence, the care, and the stories we bring to those headstones make it more than a cemetery. It becomes a living reminder of sacrifice and service, a place where history and humanity intersect.
"The graves stretch in perfect rows, like seeds sown in the earth for an otherworldly harvest—a future feast of souls. Will these blooms rise beyond to the next realm, nourished by the tears, loss, and pain left behind in this one?"
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier: Honoring the Unseen
One of the most moving moments of our visit was witnessing the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The precision, the solemnity—it was breathtaking. My kids were full of questions: Why do we honor someone whose identity we’ll never know? What makes the unknown soldier different from the thousands of others buried here?It was a tricky question to answer, but we came to this: The unknown soldier represents more than an individual. They symbolize all the sacrifices made without recognition, the countless contributions that shape our world without ever being attributed to a single name. Honoring the unknown isn’t about a specific person; it’s about the idea that every life matters, even if it goes unseen.
It’s a reminder, too, of the unseen contributions in our own lives—the small acts of kindness or bravery that might not make headlines but still ripple outward, shaping the world in quiet, powerful ways.
Individuality vs. Belonging
As we walked through Arlington, Ava asked another profound question: “Does it make it less special because there are so many graves?” Great question….Why bother to mark individual graves at all, for that matter? Why have people felt the need to leave their “mark” since the dawn of time? From cavemen graffiti to an annoying little brother poking you in the side to get a reaction - could it be that, at the end of the day, we are all just poking around in the dark, searching for evidence that we actually exist?It’s a question that touches on a fundamental tension in human experience—the desire to be seen as unique, balanced against the need to belong to something greater. Is this the key to the existential validation we crave?
Each tombstone at Arlington represents a life, a story, an individual. Yet together, they form a collective, a reminder of the power of unity. And therein lies the tension: How do we honor the uniqueness of each life while also acknowledging the power and awe of the collective?
It’s a question we wrestle with daily, isn’t it? We want to stand out, to be seen for who we are. But we also crave connection, the feeling of being part of a tribe, a community, a family. At Arlington, that tension is palpable—each tombstone unique, yet undeniably part of a vast, interconnected whole.
A Framework: The Coin and the Path
Sometimes another person’s quest for existential validation can be unproductive - it can negatively impact our lives and our relationships. Our big “ah ha” was realizing that when you step back and reframe what they’re doing as an attempt to be seen or feel connected, it can shape how you communicate with them.This sparked an idea for a communication tool that we’ve started using (as parents as well as Guides), which we call “A Coin and A Path”.
Here’s how it works:
- The Coin: Every behavior has two sides— an unproductive decision or action and the contrasting positive character trait, cultural identity or positive intention driving it. Acknowledging both sides of the coin can bridge the gap between the individual and collective, helping them feel both seen and connected to something greater, rather than ignored and alienated. It doesn’t matter what side of the coin you start with, but just that you call out both.
- The Path: After acknowledging both sides of The Coin, you can help the other person by offering up a potential path forward that is more productive - a path that is more aligned with their intentions or individual or cultural identity. This can come in the form of a request, invitation, A/B choice or open-ended question that . At the very least, it should open the door for a conversation around how to come back into alignment within yourself and with others.
For example, to a rambunctious toddler, you might say,
- Coin Side A - Positive Intention - “I see you trying to connect with me…
- Coin Side B - Unproductive Behavior - “…and I don’t like it when you hit me in the face.
- Path Forward - Request - “...Can you please connect with me with hugs instead?
To a moody preteen, you might say,
- Coin Side A - Negative Action - “I see you using really cruel words with your brother right now…
- Coin Side B - Positive Character Trait - “And I know that you’re not a cruel person.
- Path Forward - Request - “Can you please use kinder words with him instead?
Lessons for Everyday Life
The questions we explored aren’t just abstract - they’re deeply practical. They shape the way we treat the spaces around us, the way we honor the people in our lives, and the way we parent. They remind us to slow down, to pay attention, to treat each moment and each person with care.Reframing other people’s actions as an attempt to be seen or to connect and then using that to chart a productive path forward is a superpower I hope to continue to develop. I suspect it will enable me to better communicate boundaries in a way that strengthens, rather than weakens my interactions and relationships with others.
Who knew a trip to a cemetery - a place seeping with death - would illuminate such a foundational truth about life?
Related to this Episode
- A Coin and a Path Framework
- #ConvosWithMyKids - curious for more on the perspectives of young people? Check out a collection of conversations with Ava + Andrew!
Our Podcast
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About the Author
Angela is passionate about reshaping the way kids learn and grow. As the co-founder of Acton Academy Northwest Austin, Angela is dedicated to fostering a learner-driven environment where curiosity thrives and students take ownership of their educational journeys. When not working with young heroes, they’re often exploring big ideas on education, parenting, and lifelong learning right here on the blog.Want to learn more about our innovative approach to education? Check out Acton Academy Northwest Austin to see how we’re redefining school for the next generation of curious thinkers and independent learners.