National Ancestors Day: 7 Ways to Honor It

September 27th is National Ancestors Day. I’ont get behind all holidays, because most are just meant to get us spending money, but I like these kinds. A day to honor those who ain’t here no more, all at once.

Katherine Dunham said June is the month to honor the ancestors. Mexico observes November 1 and 2 as the “Day of the Dead.” Some choose Halloween, October 31st. Many of us pause on the day of our ancestors’ birth and death. But these moments don’t have to compete; pick and choose as you please.

September 2024, in particular, carried a great deal of grief and death, including those well-known—Rich Homie Quan, James Earl Jones, Frankie Beverly, and Tina McElroy Ansa—and loved ones of my loved ones. And I know from pattern that whatever you’re feeling, most likely those around you are feeling it too. So I figured I’d share a few ways to honor those who’ve gone on:

Spend Time on an Altar

You may already one, or maybe you wanna build one. It can be temporary or you can leave it up. You might already have one and don’t even realize it. Many of our elders and ancestors did, regardless of their religion. A table with candles and pictures on it. A bible and a few pieces of crystal. A plant. A glass of water. Things that your ancestors loved or owned. Wearing a locket around your neck. Tattoos with names/pictures/symbols. After all, we, too, are walking altars. Clean your altar. Add to it. Rearrange things. Talk to it. Spend time with it.

Start a Group Chat

In person or over the phone. Share your favorite story and ask for theirs. Share what you miss most about ’em. Wondering if they’re actually watching over you? Put that out there and see if your friends/family wondering the same. Been getting signs of their presence? Share that too. And don’t leave the chi’ren out the conversation—even if they just listening in or reading screenshots.

Make Something

Especially if they taught you how to do it. A meal, a medicine, a quilt, a basket, etc. Maybe they didn’t teach you, but they affirmed your doing it. Ms. Tina ain’t teach me how to write, but she’d light up when I told her my story ideas. So I’m writing to honor her. And it ain’t gotta make sense to nobody else. My granny ain’t teach me how to make sweet potato pies when she was living, but I missed them and nobody could do it like she did it. So one year, I kept making ’em ’til I got it right. After while, it felt like she was guiding me. Might’ve cooked ’bout 55 pies, but I got it.

Visit Their Spots

Their grave, home, church, wherever you feel led. And if you only know the city but not exactly where, just go there. My granny was born and raised in Richland Parish, Louisiana. Sometimes I just ride out there and imagine. Did the same for Huey P. Newton, who I ain’t related to but feel deeply connected to. And I do with Zora all the time.

Take a Personal Moment

My maternal granddad’s birthday was September 4th. He was a deacon at the church and used to lead the song “This Little Light of Mine.” In his later years, Alzheimer’s got the best of him. Because he didn’t remember much, including who I was, I didn’t bother spending much time with him (I was young). Then, one day—maybe outta boredom, curiosity, or both—I went up to him and started singing “This Light of Mine” and he joined in. So last week, on his birthday, I sung that song while walking the neighborhood.

Burn, Bury, or Float a Note

This is one of my favorite was. Write a small note then either burn it, bury it in the ground, or float it in a natural body of water.

Just Talk to Em

Sometimes I make a cup of hot tea, either early in the morning or late at night when the house is quiet and I’m alone, and I just talk to whoever’s on my heart but ain’t here no mo. I do it in the car. I do it while staring into a candle. I do it on the porch while watching a butterfly. I’m sure you can say it in your head, but I prefer to say it aloud.