Guest Essay | Roberta Martínez: Reflections on Día de Muertos

In the 1950s our family would have identified as being Mexican American and Catholic. My grandparents were from Mexico. We were proud of our roots and proud of where we lived. We lived in a tiny house, but in a bedroom corner my mom had a tiny shrine with artificial flowers and pictures of saints. On November 1, All Saint’s Day she’d light candles and say prayers.

In the 1990s I was living in Pasadena with my family, and teaching Spanish as a Second Language. I found myself learning about language and culture in ways that I’d not thought of before, because when you teach you also need to learn more about what you’ll be teaching your students; our students had backgrounds very different from my own. I began to formalize my thoughts on a lot of things that were part of my cultural traditions.

During this time I went to an exhibit at UCLA that was focused on  Día de Muertos. I came to learn that it was an amalgam of the practices of All Souls Day and All Saints Day combined with the Mexica (Aztec) remembrance of the dead. Both cultural traditions have deep, complex roots. I also began to learn that this practice was not exclusive to Mexicanos – rather variations on this idea extended across much of MesoAmerica.

One of the most moving aspects of this tradition was the concept of three deaths. The moment we take our last breath, the moment our spirits leave our being, and the moment when we are forgotten.  Día de Muertos was about relationships and the individuals that were a part of the family: nuclear, extended, connected by religion or shared experience.

Día de Muertos is a time to reclaim and share our family and community histories, expressing our reverence for those who came before. A time to gather and share stories about those being remembered — flaws, hopes, funny sayings or things they did that made no sense. We often do this while making the ofrenda, a table or shelf where things that held meaning to our loved ones when they were alive are carefully placed among the traditional elements: cempaxochitl, water, and candles.

During the HIV-AIDS pandemic and the COVID pandemic loved ones learned about Día de Muertos. Gathering together and reminiscing as family and community, they set ofrendas for their loved ones. Doing this gave them a gathering place to reminisce and the reminiscing often gave comfort.

For those of us in Pasadena, the practice of  Día de Muertos continues to evolve. It is natural to see this happen. Culture and cultural traditions are by nature ever ever-changing and ever-evolving. I’ve been asked if seeing so many different interpretations are cultural misappropriations?

For me the answer can vary. If it is done with a focus on commerce rather than commemoration, or checking on a social requirement, it smacks of misappropriation.

Those who take the time to learn, consider, and understand the tradition of  Día de Muertos begin to appreciate and respect a tradition that is focused on family and community.

Roberta H.  Martínez is a writer and historian known for her work on and in the Latino community in Pasadena. She authored “Latinos in Pasadena” in 2009, highlighting the often-overlooked contributions of Latinos to the city’s history.