Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead, is a celebration honoring ancestors who have passed before.

Large altars or ofrendas appear in many towns and cities, where photos, food and flowers are offered to the ancestors in the window between the times light and dark. That’s Nov. 1 and 2.

We all honor those who have passed to the Spirit World. In Anishinaabe teachings, Wawatay, or the Northern Lights, are our ancestors dancing. They dance more than ever these days as the display of the Aurora Borealis amazes us many evenings. We show respect for those who have passed on by acknowledging them, sometimes in federal holidays like memorial day, but in many cultures by a feast, and some sort of ceremony.

Our ancestors are revered, and the dearly departed who have traveled on are offered a feast of food, or perhaps offerings placed on their grave houses, or a smoke of sacred tobacco. In many cultures, a late fall feast is held, as the fields close down for the winter, and we go inside for the warmth. The Day of the Dead celebration from Mexican Indigenous traditions is a strong tradition, which in many ways embodies many Indigenous teachings. Indeed it is a celebration of life and metamorphoses.

This holiday is also an honoring of monarch butterflies, who migrate from northern regions back to their winter homes in Mexico. That’s thousands of miles for a butterfly to travel. And we all know that they face many threats to their very existence.

Migrating monarchs arrive in Mexico at the same time every year, coinciding with the Day of the Dead.

Monarch butterflies are one of over 200 butterfly species found in the northland. However, their survival is under threat due to habitat destruction, pesticide use, climate change, and extreme weather events.

Today, many gardeners, and community groups are working to protect monarch habitat, and to protect the chrysalis, the homes of the monarch, until their magical metamorphosis from a caterpillar to a butterfly. Here in the north country, I’ve seen people proudly setting up monarch chrysalis in their windows, and greenhouses, hoping to bring more into the world. Indeed, the population has been deeply threatened, but there are true believers and true friends to these magnificent creatures here in the north country.

The monarchs have been taking quite a hit from the BT corn in some of these fields around here. Sadly, some of the monarch’s wintering grounds are threatened by mining and logging companies. It seems like we would want to give those guys a break.

In 2020, two Mexican butterfly protectors were found dead within days of each other: Homero Gómez González was found on Jan. 29, two weeks after going missing. Gómez was a monarch butterfly sanctuary manager who opened the sanctuary to stop illegal logging in the area. His family said he received threats. Gómez’s son believes he was murdered. A few days later, Raúl Hernández Romero, a part-time Monarch sanctuary tour guide, was found dead showing injuries possibly inflicted by a sharp object.

This year was one of the strongest monarch butterfly populations in recent years, and I have to believe the future will have these relatives.

The Day of the Dead celebration is very much about life, and through it we can remember to provide habitat for the butterflies. Monarchs like other butterflies have some amazing cells called imago cells. Those are the ones which transform a caterpillar to a butterfly. The word imago is the root for the word imagination. That’s powerful: imagine that transformation. That’s a lesson to learn. And the monarchs also teach us that migration is beautiful. Remember that in these turbulent times.

Winona LaDuke is an Ojibwe writer and economist on Minnesota’s White Earth Reservation. She also is co-curator of the Giiwedinong Museum in Park Rapids, Minnesota, and a regular contributor to Forum News Service.