Jocelyn Maribel, Allis Ozornia, and Angel Garcia Lopez. Abiba Biao Photos.
Some came out to reconnect with their Latine roots, from papel picado and garlands of marigolds to candles that danced against the falling dusk. Some came to remember their mothers, sisters, cousins and friends, too often taken from this earth before their time. Some came out because there was a call to activism in the air, and no choice but to heed it.
All of them gathered at the Fair Haven Branch Library last Friday night, for the third annual Día de Muertas Festival hosted by women’s advocacy group Vivan Las Autonomas (read about previous festivals and marches here and here). The event, held in collaboration with the Children of Marsha P. Johnson, Justice for Jayson, Justice for Katherine, and We Will Return, centered on themes of femicide, anti-trans and police violence, Palestinian liberation, genocide, and violence against women and children.
Organizers halted the festival, which was set to include a march with speeches and music, after event co-organizer Nika Zarazvand sustained serious injuries from a hit-and-run while directing traffic for the parade. A campaign to cover Zarazvand’s medical expenses is now live and a meal sign-up sheet is available here. The driver has not yet been found or arrested.
Alyssa-Marie Cajigas Rivera Ortiz and Erycka Ortiz.
Throughout the evening, a spirit of solidarity and collaboration remained strong. As co-directors of the Children for Marsha P. Johnson (CMPJ), Alyssa-Marie Cajigas Rivera Ortiz and Erycka Ortiz both stressed the importance of participating and remaining present. As grassroots organizers and liberation workers—particularly for Black and Brown trans women—both came to spread awareness about trans-femicide and anti-LGBTQ violence in Connecticut and across the globe.
“Last year was one of the deadliest years for trans women globally, with over 400 trans women, specifically Black and Brown, that were murdered,” Rivera Ortiz said. “And our job as an organization is to give a voice to those trans women.”
She added that there is a significant lack of data and information available to the public in Connecticut and across the country. She noted that trans women are often deadnamed and misgendered posthumously—in the press, in coroner’s reports, and even among their family members—making the scale of the violence difficult to track.
A detail from Vanesa Suarez's installation No More Stolen Sisters. When she showed it earlier this year, the piece was intended to be viewed while listening to Beyoncé's "Heaven."
“Depending on the state that you're in, smaller police institutions do have, like, legitimate policies where they do not actually have to search or do an investigation on someone if that's not their legal name,” Ortiz added.
Both pointed to the disturbing use gay/trans panic defense, in which individuals accused of a violent crime against queer people can claim self-defense to partially or completely excuse their actions. This sometimes happens by citing the victim's sexual orientation or gender identity as a reason for their aggression.
The defense is often used to bolster other defenses, such as insanity, provocation, or self-defense. Many states in the country still allow for this defense to be used in procedures and in court.
“The work that they [Vivan Las Autónomas] are doing is so important for people like us who are born and raised in Connecticut for a large part of our lives,” Ortiz said. “We know firsthand what it looks like on a day to day basis to live and walk these streets and to be harmed by these systems and institutions.”
Nika Zarazvand and Vanesa Suarez.
For event organizers Zarazvand and Vanesa Suarez, that intersectionality was key. Their idea to combine themes of femicide with the Latin American holiday first came in 2020, as they were fighting to get justice for East Haven resident, migrant, and mother Lizzbeth Alemán-Popoca. An investigation by the East Haven Police Department ultimately revealed that the perpetrator was her boyfriend, Jonnathan Jara-Aucapina.
“That was the first case that I think really made us confront the issue of femicide and how that looked like, even in a small community like East Haven,” Suarez said on their first demonstration.
At their second femicide awareness event held last year, Vivan Las Autónomas held a procession in West Haven, around the neighborhood and previous residence of Roya Mohammadi. Mohammadi was an Afghan woman whose body was found in the West River last March. Her case still remains unsolved.
This year, Suarez and Zarazvand used the feminine version of Día de Muertos “to emphasize women who have been murdered in our state, and to emphasize violence against women,” Suarez continued.
“What feels really special about today is that while we're holding so much loss, so much grief for so many reasons, I think that, like, it's really beautiful to be able to center the women that we've lost and children as well, and to really take a moment to hold what their loss means.”
Zarazvand noted the lack of seriousness that femicide cases are often treated with and the sensationalization of homicides, emphasizing the “longitudinal impact” femicide has on their communities.
“I think the media approaches women's deaths as like a true crime, kind of glorifying trauma, tragedy," Zarazvand said. "I don't think it really takes into account the impacts that it has on families. It's just looking at, ‘Oh, this woman died. How tragic. Moving on to the next story,’ you know? And it doesn't really engage with what we feel every day, which is fear and danger. There's no guarantee that we'll be okay, that we'll survive.”
B: "If I didn't join the movement for justice and transformation, liberatory transformation, that like, I would die."
Enjoying a cup of hot chocolate before the march was set to start, “B” praised the work of Vivian, which they learned about through Instagram. Fifteen years ago, they first got into activism 15 years ago during their undergraduate studies. Friday, they came out all the way from Redding.
“I don't know if it was my ancestors or who let[ting] me know that if I didn't join the movement for justice and transformation, liberatory transformation, that like, I would die, almost,” B said. “Life just wouldn't make sense without committing myself to this work and this dedication.”
Those sentiments were similarly echoed by Ahmad H. an organizer in We Will Return, a Palestinian liberation activist group. A chemist by trade, Ahmad said he plans to return to school to become a lawyer, wanting to advocate for human rights.
“I realized over the last year in activism that this is so meaningful and so fulfilling, you know? Working with people seeing a positive impact on the communities that I'm a part of, and other communities that I'm not a part of,” he said.
That momentum was also true for Angel Garcia Lopez, a senior at Yale who spotted a flier on campus for the event. As a proud queer and Mexican student , Lopez has strong ties to Día de Muertos, and called Friday a way to reconnect with his culture while living out a social justice mission. As he spoke, he shared hot chocolate and pan de muerto with his friends Jocelyn Maribel and Allis Ozornia.
“Trans and queer folk, especially of color, suffer a lot of political violence, and so that's something that I wanted to try to learn more about and also stand in solidarity with,” he said. “And it's also a community right here in Fair Haven, so I think it's really important, while being a student in New Haven, to support other communities here in the area as well.”
“I think it's really cool to learn about these folks that are doing education justice work in a way too, really educating and informing us all about these feminicidios that are occurring,” he added.