How Louise Learned to​Be a Mortician: Mortuary School: Macabre Education for a Not-So-Dismal Trade

Most people avoid thinking about what happens after death. For a select few, however, death care is our calling. Rather than retreating from this gruesome and frightening subject, we choose to confront it daily in order to comfort the living. It’s not a simple task. We funeral directors and embalmers spend years perfecting our craft to provide flawless service to grieving families. The range of duties we have to master might surprise you.


Where does one even learn the trade of undertaking? Across the United States, there are currently 58 accredited schools of mortuary science. The majority are divisions within colleges and universities, but ten are standalone schools devoted only to funeral service. Most schools offer a certificate program equivalent to an associate degree. A few offer bachelor degrees, but all fulfill local licensing requirements and prepare students for state and national board exams. These two-to-four-year programs are a far cry from early embalming courses established around 1900.


A brief history lesson: For the sake of brevity, we’ll bypass the ancient Egyptians and move directly into modern embalming. Modern embalming existed prior to the Civil War, but only to preserve specimens for anatomical study. Men with medical training were the first “embalmer surgeons,” but they trained a legion of laypersons as the demand for embalming skyrocketed during the war. The task of embalming shifted into the hands of the undertakers, who were previously concerned with coffin construction, carriages, and livery. The medical professionals transitioned into teachers and developers of embalming fluids.


The first embalming schools were often three-day demonstrations taught by these self-proclaimed “professors.” Some were little more than traveling embalming fluid salesmen. As the nation developed new standards and laws for the rising discipline of embalming, there began a push toward educational minimums and licensing requirements. Schools expanded from a few days to three weeks (in 1900), six weeks (1910), three months (1928), nine months (1934), and a minimum of an associate degree today. When I attended mortuary school in 2003, they condensed the associate program into twelve months.


Newly-expanded embalming schools in the 1900s included other funeralization skills, such as lessons on lining and trimming caskets, how to conduct funerals, and “practical undertaking.” The science grew to include anatomy, bacteriology, disinfection, and contagious diseases. A newfound sense of self-importance rose among practitioners, and the former cabinet maker and livery tradesmen now considered themselves professionals.


Unfortunately, it wasn’t a step forward for everyone. Men decided that embalming was too grim for women to perform and relegated them to the background of funeral home operations. Prior to the Civil War, women held an important role in laying out the dead. In fact, they were preferred to handle the remains of women and children because of a sense of propriety. One forward-thinking woman, Lina D. Odou, grew frustrated by the misogynistic attitude and began advocating for women funeral practitioners. She became an expert and opened her own school for women embalmers in 1899. Men continued to dominate the field for the next century, but today’s mortuary schools boast an average of 72% female graduates.
Modern mortuary science programs cover a broad range of subjects that reflect our shifting attitudes toward death and the handling of remains. Coursework includes all methods of disposition, but now we’re embracing green alternatives like human composting and water cremation. Embalming lessons are completed in onsite laboratories complemented by lectures on anatomy, pathology, chemistry, and microbiology. Hands-on sculpting of clay or wax effigies reinforces restorative art theories. It’s exceptionally difficult to construct a detailed replica of an ear, but developing such skills has a direct impact on keeping caskets open and providing families with closure.
 
“Practical undertaking” has evolved into classes on mortuary law, ethics, funeral home management, and accounting, in addition to basic funeral directing, ceremonies, and customs. A funeral director must be prepared to accommodate the particular needs of their community, understanding the importance of various cultural rituals. Death is death the world over, but we must know the difference between Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, Christian, Catholic, and other religions’ requirements. We also need to be practiced in military traditions in case we’re ever called upon to fold a flag into a neat triangle and present it to the next of kin. It’s much harder than it looks, and there’s a lot of pressure to perform perfectly in front of a grieving crowd.
Undertakers used to be skilled in carpentry as their funeral businesses were sidelines of their furniture or cabinet making work. Today we outsource casket construction to manufacturers, but we still memorize the names of obscure parts and pieces. Beyond our industry specific terminology, we learn how to calculate embalming fluid mixtures and the volume of cremated remains a body will yield. In order to function as well-rounded humans instead of stereotypical non-feeling funeral robots, we study thanatology, psychology, sociology, and grief counseling. Funeral education has many facets.
 
Mortuary school is intense, both in the overwhelming amount of material covered and the emotional aspects of working with the dead. Not everyone can handle it. Some don’t return after facing the first incision made into the skin of an actual human being. Mortuary science students are seen as peculiar and given a wide berth by students of the school’s “normal” programs, sometimes treated as though death or weirdness is contagious. Successful graduates are further weeded out because of an inability to complete state required apprenticeships or pass board exams. Funeral service is stressful and extremely demanding, with a perceived obligation of perfection at all costs. Surprisingly, the pay is very underwhelming for the level of responsibility and expertise required.
Despite the difficulties and the depressing nature of the field, those of us who feel the call thrive in our education, internships, and careers. Some of us discover our path early on, while others are drawn in after a second or third career. There is a plus side to having mature mortuary science students: there’s a certain gravity and perspective necessary that isn’t commonly found in freshly graduated high school students. It’s no wonder that guidance counselors rarely present funeral service as a career path. Funeral service is not just a job. It’s a vocation.


Though I have semi-retired as a funeral director and embalmer after having children, I’ve discovered a way to honor my enduring passion for funeral service. My new purpose in life is to teach the general public about death and funerals. I enjoy translating my unusual knowledge into something non-threatening and easily understandable. I’ve led people to make educated rather than emotional decisions, explore new options, and gain closure on their own experiences with loss. Teaching others gives me great satisfaction, knowing that I’m reducing fear and stigma while preparing people for the inevitable.


After all, no one makes it out of here alive.
Sumitted by Guest Author
Louise Pachella


Sources:
American Board of Funeral Service Education https://www.abfse.org/
Habenstein, Robert Wesley, and Lamers, William M. The History of American Funeral Directing, 5th ed., National Funeral Directors Association of the United States, inc., 2001.
Louise Pachella is a funeral director and embalmer turned writer and educator. She’s currently writing multiple nonfiction books on the subject, including an adult activity and coloring book designed to walk people through the funeral process in a fun and informative way. She also blogs about funeral related topics at www.HisAndHearsePress.com. Louise lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband, three fierce daughters, and an eclectic assortment of animals.