Ancestors Celebration

[Dayvanna Caraballo Schreiner]

The Ancestor's celebration is truly my favorite time of the year—it’s when I feel most alive, most connected, and most held by the spirit of my Taíno family. Each gathering, each circle, fills my heart with gratitude as teachings, ceremony, stories, and art flow between us, binding generations together across distance and time.

When I remember my last journey among the three mountains, I see thousands of our people coming together: their faces shining with joy, their feet moving in rhythm, their voices raised to honor those who walked before us. It’s in those moments that I feel the ancestors’ presence so strongly—dancing beside us, guiding our steps, telling us that we belong, always.

I carry a dream deep within me: that someday, all Taíno will gather again in our physical bodies, side by side on the mountaintops, reunited in the warmth of community and ceremony. Even though we’re spread across many lands, I know that every beat of the drum, every story shared, is a promise to our ancestors—and to each other—that our spirits are forever joined.

Until the day we meet in one place, I find comfort knowing that our dance continues. Our spirits and our ancestors move together, celebrating our existence and reminding us we truly belong. The Ancestor's celebration is a deeply personal and profound time for me—it always stirs something ancient and sacred in my soul. As a Taíno, these gatherings are more than events; they remind me that I am part of an unbroken chain of spirit and story stretching across the mountains and centuries.

I still hold close my memory of standing before the three mountains, witnessing thousands of our people dancing, singing, and celebrating together. Even in moments when we’re apart, I dream of the day we’ll reunite in our bodies, filling the valleys with laughter and honoring the wisdom our ancestors left for us.

In every ceremony, every lesson, and every heartfelt exchange, I feel our ancestors nearby guiding, rejoicing, and embracing us. Until the day we all gather again, I find solace knowing our spirits are already together, dancing with the ancestors and finding belonging in each shared moment.