Jarelis Calderon Photos.
On the walls of the New Haven Pride Center, dozens of faces looked out at the viewer, an index of lives lost and gone missing far too soon. Smiles beamed from the photographs. Eyes, warm and soft, remained frozen in time. Candles flickered beside posters that demanded justice.
Police neglect of missing and murdered women is police violence, read one. Around it, the scents of sweet pan de muerto and steaming hot chocolate filled the room as community members gathered to honor lives lost, and celebrate those still fighting to be seen.
That gathering came to the New Haven Pride Center Saturday night, as Vivan las Autónomas observed its now-annual commemoration of “Día de Muertas” in beloved community. A collaboration with artists, activists, organizers, trauma workers and survivors across the community, the night featured not just artmaking and performances, but also remarks from the Children of Marsha P. Johnson, CT Students for a Dream, CT 4 Abolition, La Cocina de Sandra and the Decolonial Sex Worker Empowerment Project.
An ofrenda, decorated and built beforehand, stood in the space for the whole night, votive candles flickering among brightly painted skulls.
“All of this reminds us of how connected everything is— from femicide to police violence, to all the ways our loved ones are being taken. None of it is isolated,” said organizer and Vivan co-founder Vanesa Suarez. “Life is sacred … [we need to] care for one another, love one another while we’re alive, and even beyond that.”
Organizers Vanesa Suarez and Nika Zarazvand.
Celebrated at the beginning of November each year, Día de los Muertos welcomes spirits of the departed temporarily back into the world of the living, for just a single night together. Ofrendas, decorated with their favorite foods, wait eagerly for the spirits to arrive. In addition to the traditional, sweet and eggy pan de muerto, people may put out glasses of water, bottles of alcohol and orange marigolds, which go back to the day’s Indigenous Aztec roots.
For Vivan, the focus is las Muertas—the feminine usage of the word—because of the work the group does to combat femicide in greater New Haven and across Connecticut.
As attendees gathered, that love and reverence was palpable in the room. For Yaneth Alemán, this year’s Día de Muertas celebration carried a deep, personal meaning. Standing among the skulls and candles that dotted the ofrenda, she thought of her sister Lizzbeth Alemán-Popoca, a young migrant mother who was killed five years ago, in a case that shook the immigrant community and fueled much of Vivan’s current activism. For Yaneth, it was a loss that reshaped her life and connected her to the work that Vivan does.
“My sister passed away five years ago, and even though she’s not here because of her I got to know this new community,” she said.
For Alemán, who is both Mexican and Catholic, the commemoration is more than a cultural tradition: it’s a bridge between grief and connection. The celebration helps her feel close to her loved ones again, and she takes time on the day to honor both family and the many women and children lost to violence.
“It means we get to honor our loved ones once more, and it reminds us that this isn’t all we have in this world, but that we get a chance, a second chance,” she said.
When asked to describe the night in one word, Alemán didn’t hesitate to say love. “You can still love someone, even if they’re not here,” she said.
As the evening got underway, community member Hadija Marchiori stopped by, having seen a post about the event on Instagram. Recently, Marchiori attended a screening of Coco hosted by Vivan, and wanted to experience how the community celebrates Día De Muertas in person. For her, the event’s focus on women and remembrance came as a welcome surprise.
“I think it’s quite nice, because in today’s society we’re often overlooked,” she said. “There are a lot of crimes that happen, and it’s good to see support for such an impacted community.”
As she explored the altar displays and everything around her, Marchiori said that she could immediately feel a sense of connection among those in attendance. “You really feel a sense of community coming in here. People talk to you about what they’re doing, and what they represent and it honestly looks like family.”
For Amara Everlasting, a vendor and speaker, this year’s event was both personal and political. Everlasting represented the Decolonial Sex Worker Justice Environment Project, a new grassroots initiative that uplifts and empowers sex workers of color through community programming, public education, and eventually legislative advocacy.
Everlasting said that the project, which began in August, has already received positive attention from the community.
Invited by Vivan to participate in this event, Everlasting said that the opportunity felt deeply personal. Having lost a loved one to femicide, she’s closely connected to the event’s purpose and to the ongoing fight for justice and visibility for marginalized people.
“It’s about recentering and restoring the wholeness and dignity of femmes and women whose lives were taken,” she said. “It’s about reclaiming their humanity, their power, their dignity, and honoring that in a celebration like this.”
In her heart that night was the late, great Cecilia Gentili, a trans sex worker and movement leader from Argentina whose advocacy for decriminalizing sex workers in New York City sparked a shift in activism and prompted discussions around policy change. Participating in this event, Everlasting saw the same spirit of resilience and care that Gentili embodied. “She’s my movement ancestor,” she said.
For organizers Suarez and Nika Zarazvand, seeing Día De Muertas come to life was both humbling and emotional. As the crowd filled the space and the altars lit up, Suarez said she couldn’t help but feel “immense gratitude” for everyone who showed up to honor their loved ones.
“Life is so fragile,” she reflected. “We might not all be here next year and, that’s why it’s important that we care for one another beyond these spaces.”
Zarazvand shared that every year, the emotions she holds in while organizing finally surface once the community gathers. “You realize what you’ve created, how heavy these stories are, how heavy every loss is. It all just really hits you the night it comes together,” she said.
This year's event was especially personal: Zarazvand is recovering from surgery, and Suarez is caring for her father, who has terminal cancer. Despite those hardships, they both agreed that community love made everything possible. Volunteers, artists and partner organizations came together to help, creating an atmosphere of compassion and strength.
“Everyone made it so easy, and everyone wanted to be a part of this. It really became a labor of love,” Suarez said.
The night performances—all by women were a tribute to resilience and creativity. Through art, poetry, and song, they gave voice to grief and transformation.
“Everyone has their own way of telling their story and, when we bring all of those forms together it becomes something powerful,” said Zarazvand. For both women, Día De Muertas is more than an event—it’s a commitment to protect and honor one another.
“Protect us. Protect each other. At all costs,” Suarez said firmly. “No one else is going to do this work for us—it’s on us.”
That work continues monthly through Vivan, where they lead art therapy circles and cultural programs for women and nonbinary people once a month. These gatherings are designed to offer rest, care, and community.
“The kind of space where you can finally exhale— eat good food, make art, and feel taken care of,” Suarez said.
A junior at Wilbur Cross High School, Jarelis Calderon is an alumna of the 2025 summer cohort of the Youth Arts Journalism Initiative (YAJI). YAJI is a program in which New Haven, Hamden and West Haven Public Schools high school students pitch, write, edit and publish articles through the Arts Paper. This year, YAJI advisors included Arts Paper Editor Lucy Gellman and reporter and YAJI alum Abiba Biao.