A year ago, my family, carrying marigolds, candles and photos, joined other Latino families in the Mission District to celebrate the Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead celebration.
On the corner of 24th and Mission streets, the familiar atmosphere of this Nov. 2 holiday was an apparent mix of excitement and sadness. Portable speakers blared music, as the sounds of the crowds murmured. Colorful decorations, including painted faces and costumes, could be seen, while the scents of delicious street foods — tamales, elote, fresh fruit and grilled hot dogs — wafted in the air. We stopped to pick up some pan dulce, then walked towards the procession that has become an annual ritual in La Misión.
Leading the procession were dancers: Dazantes Aztecas Coyolxauhqui and drummers, followed by the colorful orange and yellow banner bearing the words El Colectivo del Rescate Cultural (the Culture Rescue Collective), and Nuestros Muertos No Se Venden (Our Dead are not for Sale). The collective, and that proud boast, owes its existence to its founder, Juan Pablo Gutiérrez Sánchez, who died in December 2021.
For years, Sánchez was approached by outside, non-Latino/a/x corporations to accept corporate advertising and branding. His vehement refusal — “our dead are not for sale” — underscored the historic and grassroots nature of the celebration. What mattered, in his view, was that our cultura maintains, defines and perpetuates itself. He upheld the sanctity of the tradition, of a community mourning and honoring its lost loved ones in the procession. Beginning last year, this now included Sánchez.
Sánchez was born in 1953, and came of age during the civil rights era. He lived through the AIDS crisis, came out publicly as a gay man, and was an activist, community leader and beloved friend to many. For 40 years, he orchestrated the Day of the Dead procession in the Mission, making it more inclusive, to welcome people from more than a score of Spanish-speaking countries, including those of non-Latino ancestry, and teaching many about the traditions.
The traditional Día de los Muertos originates in pre-Columbian times. The rituals date back more than 3,000 years, and were practiced by the indigenous peoples of the Americas when the Olmecs, and subsequent Toltecs, Mixtecs, Zapotecs, Maya and Aztecs honored death. In addition, as a traditional Mexican cut-paper artist, Sánchez created, by hand, the traditional 13 standards carried in the procession.
This past year, there were no handmade paper-cut standards created by Sánchez. But the important things were there. After being suspended for two years because of the pandemic, the procession was back on, and we were together. Behind the banner, I saw Sánchez’s longtime friends, Luis de la Garza and Angie, carrying a large photo and artwork of Sánchez. They were with a larger group all carrying marigolds. I walked towards de la Garza and yelled his name, tears streaming down my cheeks. For de la Garza, who was Sánchez’s best friend and chosen family, it took a lot for him to be there. I held de la Garza’s hand as we walked together, reminiscing about Sánchez, how much we loved and missed him, and how happy he would be to see the procession continue on without him.
At another point along the procession, Kevin, another of Sánchez’s closest friends, appeared. Kevin lives in Taiwan now, but fate and timing brought him to San Francisco this particular week. With tears and joy, we all hugged with excitement over what felt like Kevin’s miraculous appearance.
We continued walking behind the dancers, talking occasionally but also reflecting quietly. At each corner, the Aztec dancers performed traditional dances while copal incense and sage burned, drums thundered, conch shells blew and ankles rattled with ayacachtli. The dancers in the lead enacted the ritual of the five directions.
Crowds watched from 24th Street, while others joined behind the procession to march, many of them carrying photos of their loved ones. The procession is a time of reflection and celebration of our loved ones who have left this earth in human form but live on in spirit. Pre-Columbian Americans believed that life was a dream-like state, interwoven with the dead and alive, and death was not to be feared — a belief that is represented in the Mexican Day of the Dead celebration. It was during the procession, as we were marching and performing the collective rituals, that we entered this dreamlike state with the realization that Sánchez was with us, and would always be.
The author, María I. Lopez, is a proud Latina, Mission worker, advocate and mother. Sánchez approached her in the early 2000s and they became fast friends, hanging out in the Mission and teaching the art of Mexican paper cutting to San Francisco public schoolchildren. It was Sánchez’s idea to go to the schools, as he had been involved, in his early days in Texas, in similar workshops. Per Lopez, “It was truly magical to see him teaching the children about Day of the Dead, which he always started with a paper-cutting ritual of the five directions and then led the children in designing their artwork. All were mesmerized by his presence.”
* Special thanks to Luis de la Garza for his contribution to this piece.
