Remembering Out Loud: The Cultural Courage of Día de los Muertos
As October fades and November begins, the air starts to shift. The days grow shorter, and many people feel the quiet pull of memory. Across Mexico and much of Latin America, this time of year marks Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. It is not a holiday of fear or darkness. It is a season of love, reunion, and remembrance.
At its core, this tradition is about remembering and celebrating those who’ve passed, not burying them under a pile of silence. The roots stretch back to ancient Mesoamerican cultures (like the Aztecs and Nahua), who believed death was a natural phase in the life cycle, not a taboo to be hidden away. Over time, this belief merged with Spanish Catholic observances, such as All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, and then evolved into the vibrant two-day holiday celebrated on November 1 and 2 in Mexico today. It’s important to note, it’s not Halloween… Horror and fear aren’t the focus here; connection, memory, life among death are.
Unlike Halloween, Día de los Muertos is not about spirits haunting the living. It is about the living making space for their dead. Families prepare altars called ofrendas, covered with photographs, food, flowers, and light. The scent of marigold, known as cempasúchil, fills the air. Candles flicker beside plates of favorite meals, creating a path for those who have passed to return home for a visit. The result is a living conversation between worlds, a reminder that love does not end when a heartbeat stops.
The Permission to Remember
In many modern cultures, grief disappears quickly. After a funeral, people are expected to be strong, productive, and silent. The living often carry their sorrow privately, unsure how to express it without judgment. Día de los Muertos offers a different message: It says that grief deserves space, voice, and color. In Mexican tradition, loss is not a solitary act but a communal one. The rituals invite laughter, tears, storytelling, and music, all equally valid expressions of love. The holiday normalizes the coexistence of joy and sorrow, reminding us that grief doesn’t have to be silent or sterile.
This openness can be deeply healing. It validates that continuing bonds with the dead, talking to them, remembering them, celebrating them…is not a sign of being “stuck,” but rather of being human, and that permission is powerful. Rituals like these remind us that remembrance is not weakness. It is proof that love continues to have a home.
What This Tradition Teaches About Grief
Although Día de los Muertos belongs to the Mexican and Indigenous communities that created it, its lessons are open to everyone. You don’t have to borrow the symbols to understand the wisdom. What matters is what the practice represents: giving grief a visible place in daily life.
Most people never get that kind of permission. After loss, we’re told to move forward, focus on gratitude, return to work, and smile when it feels unnatural. Ritual offers an antidote to that pressure. It slows the pace, invites honesty, and gives shape to the unspoken. That’s where this tradition becomes a teacher.
Ritual creates structure.
Grief is unpredictable, but ritual creates rhythm. Lighting a candle, saying a name, or setting out a favorite meal are all small acts of control in a time that feels unstructured. These moments of repetition give the heart a place to rest when nothing else makes sense.
Names carry power.
Speaking the names of those we’ve lost brings them back into the room. It counters the quiet cultural urge to erase them from conversation once the memorial is over. Every name spoken is a reminder that a person’s story doesn’t vanish when their life ends.
Community builds connection.
When grief is shared, it stops being a private burden and becomes a collective act of care. In Día de los Muertos, families gather, laugh, and cry together. That sense of community reminds us that sorrow is survivable when it’s witnessed.
The senses hold memory.
Smell, taste, sound, and texture anchor us to the people we miss. The scent of marigolds, the sound of a familiar song, or the taste of a favorite food can feel like a reunion. These experiences awaken something ancient in the body, a way of saying “I remember” without words.
Why Cultural Literacy Matters in Grief
Understanding Día de los Muertos through the lens of cultural literacy changes how we think about grief, both individually and collectively. Every culture has its own way of holding loss, but most workplaces have none. There are no shared rituals for mourning, no language for what happens when someone’s life changes completely and they are still expected to perform as if nothing happened.
This is where cultural awareness becomes education. Traditions like Día de los Muertos give us a blueprint for what healthy, community-based grief can look like. They show that remembrance does not weaken productivity or focus. It builds connection, compassion, and a sense of belonging. These traditions model what it looks like when people acknowledge pain together instead of pretending it isn’t there.
In Mexico, the Day of the Dead is a public act of remembrance. Families build altars, schools host art displays, and even workplaces participate by creating ofrendas or sharing stories of loved ones. Remembering the dead is not seen as indulgent or uncomfortable. It is treated as a natural part of life, something worth making space for. That kind of openness strengthens communities. It reduces isolation and helps people feel seen, even in their grief.
The same mindset can transform the workplace. When organizations learn from these traditions, they start to understand that grief is not a disruption to business. It is part of being human at work. Leaders who recognize that truth can build environments where people feel safe to bring their whole selves, including their losses.
Imagine what it might look like if a company treated remembrance the way Día de los Muertos does.
Teams could share memories of colleagues or loved ones who have died.
Break rooms or digital boards could offer space to honor those memories.
Managers could allow flexibility during anniversaries, holidays, or emotionally heavy dates.
Training and education could help staff understand how grief affects concentration, communication, and morale.
Cultural literacy is not about copying another culture’s symbols or ceremonies. It is about recognizing that ritual itself is essential. Día de los Muertos shows how collective acknowledgment can bring people closer together. When we make space for remembrance in our communities and workplaces, we build environments where empathy has room to live, and these small actions shift culture. They turn grief from something to hide into something supported. They teach employees that being human is not a liability. It is a strength.
Día de los Muertos teaches one simple truth: death cannot silence love. Lighting a candle, saying a name, or sharing a story are all ways of keeping the dead present in our lives. They continue in memory, in habit, in laughter, in the recipes we cook and the songs we hum. Whether you celebrate the Day of the Dead or simply pause to reflect, take the lesson to heart. Remembering is an act of resistance against forgetting.