El Día de los Muertos

My first teaching job immersed me in Mexican culture--nearly all of my first grade students were Mexican, and most had roots in the state of Michoacan. It was my dream job, and though it was the most challenging experience of my life at that point, I loved being la maestra to my class. I loved hearing Spanish spoken on the playground, in la oficina and in the teachers' room. I loved that my students and their parents patiently and warmly encouraged me to practice my Spanish with them when we chatted after school or at a conference.

Each year for El Día de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead, one of my colleagues, Margarita, set up an altar in her classroom. Day of the Dead is celebrated in Mexico at this time each year. It has its roots in the indigenous culture of Mexico--where death was embraced as a continuation of life. Margarita's students brought in photos, food offerings and objects that held special memories of loved ones who had passed away. They ate pan de muerto and had traditional sugar skulls. What always struck me about this day was how joyful, colorful and beautiful the altar in Margarita's classroom was. That there was happiness and vibrancy instead of bleakness and sorrow. A true celebration of life.

So, today, I celebrate Vivian's namesakes and the full lives they led. I will listen to some John Denver in honor of my grandma (she loved him!), and I will try and track down some black licorice in honor of Vince's grandfather. I might even dance on a table.