Creating A Space For Healing And Reflection Ancestral Altars And Rituals For Community Resilience

Cultural resilience is an art form cultivated through intentional rites that honor our roots and protect the legacy of our lineages. Though they resonate in various forms, our ancestral practices harmonize a collective heartbeat as languages, dances, foods, and spiritual rituals are the living testaments of our origins. Losing them fragments our story, distorting the sacred narrative that connects us to generations before us. “In many shamanic societies, if you came to a medicine person complaining of being disheartened, dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions: “When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did you stop being comforted by the sweet territory of silence?” These questions point to the power of rituals and collective practices to sustain our spirits and foster unity, especially in times of upheaval. From tipi ceremonies in Native American tribes to Mexica dancing or harvest festivals that express gratitude for the land’s abundance, community rituals have always served as a core cultural principle to upkeep morale. These gatherings channel collective energy into a focused point, connecting participants to ancestral wisdom while bridging generational shifts. Among these traditions, the creation of ancestral altars stands out as a profound act of remembrance and empowerment. A tangible way to call upon the strength, insights, and love of those who walked before us. 

A Sacred Space for Resilience

The indoctrination of the imperialistic church drastically influenced many ancestral practices as it sought to completely destroy the former belief system or merge with traditional diasporas, creating new worlds of belief. In the African diaspora, the syncretism of Orishas with Catholic saints during the transatlantic slave trade preserved ancient beliefs under the appearance of Christian worship, particularly in regions like the Caribbean, Brazil, and Latin America. For example, the Orisha Shango, ruler of thunder and fire, was associated with Santa Barbara, a Catholic saint also linked to storms and lightning. This creative resilience ensured that African spirituality endured despite efforts to erase it. Today, Catholicism and Yoruba spirituality remain integral to many Afro-Caribbean and Afro-Latinx religious practices. For practitioners of Santería and similar traditions, saints and Orishas coexist, reflecting a rich history of resistance, adaptation, and devotion. 

Figures like Marie Laveau, the legendary Voodoo priestess of New Orleans, also embodied this fusion of traditions. Born in 1801 as a Creole, she was a free woman of mixed African, Native American, and French descent. Combining African spirituality, Catholicism, and herbal medicine, she became a spiritual leader, healer, and advocate for her community, leaving a legacy of empowerment that persists today. Her charisma and wisdom drew a diverse following, from enslaved people to politicians and wealthy elites seeking guidance in love, justice, and prosperity. Preserving our ancestral practices protects our traditional wisdom for future generations to explore. 

Altars have been integral to spiritual practices since ancient times, with sacred pyramids and ruins as global markers of humanity’s connection to the divine. Working with an ancestor altar is a metaphysical practice that takes time to develop. Building an altar in your home creates a sacred space for reflection, guidance, emotional release, and support. This practice anchors you to your roots and can provide a source of strength during turbulent moments. Setting up an ancestral altar is similar to setting up wifi; when it’s up, you can connect to the spiritual internet or your ancestors. A Mayan community I study with in Guatemala always asked three transformative questions: Who are you? Where are you from? Where are you going? These questions underscore the importance of cultivating a spiritual connection with ourselves to understand our ancestral lineages and our mission today. My Mayan teachers often remind me, “We are not colonized because we still have our language, weaving, songs, dances, and practices.” An altar is one way to reclaim this resilience, grounding us in the stories and rituals of our forebears.

How to Build an Ancestral Altar

Creating an altar is a profoundly personal and intentional act. When beginning your journey, I suggest only working with your ancestors of the light, as they are the ones who have crossed over and can assist you without their personal burdens disrupting your course. Here’s a guide to help you begin:

1. Choose a Location: Find a space in your home where the altar can remain undisturbed. This could be a table in your living room, a nightstand by your bed, or anywhere else you feel called to create a place. Some people dedicate entire rooms to altar spaces for their ancestors. 
2. Cleanse the Space: Physically cleanse the space. Wipe down the surfaces and remove any visible dirt or dust. Use incense, sage, copal, or palo santo to purify the area and yourself. 
3. Set Up Your Altar: Cleanse yourself and your hands. Set an intention for the altar, whether it’s to honor ancestors, seek their guidance, offer them gratitude, or create a meaningful relationship. If you have one, use a clean cloth as the base of your altar. Decorate as you desire. 
4. Honor Your Ancestors: Add photos, heirlooms, symbolic statues, or items representing your ancestors. Optional: If specific images or items aren’t available, you can write their names on paper or include objects that signify your lineage. 
5. Offerings: Add a glass of clean water to the altar. Place offerings such as flowers, fruits, food, or drinks your ancestors enjoyed. In Hoodoo and other African diasporic traditions, items like rum, tobacco, or sweets are common offerings. You can also play with incorporating elemental offerings that represent the four elements:
   • Earth: Flowers, crystals, stones, or soil.
   • Water: A small bowl of water or seashells.
   • Fire: Candles (white for purity, green for healing, wealth, yellow for energy, confidence, and abundance, pink for love, or other colors with personal significance).
   • Air: Incense, feathers, or bells.

When you place the offerings down, you can petition or speak out loud to announce who they are for and what you need support with. For example, “I offer this white candle for my ancestors in the light and ask for support with my upcoming exam.” Spiritual hygiene is just as important as keeping your home physically neat. It’s essential to maintain your ancestral altar with respect and cleanliness. Since you are building a relationship with your kinfolk, return to your altar regularly, lighting candles, meditating, listening or speaking to your ancestors. Over time, it will become a sanctuary of connection and healing.

The interweaving of life and death is celebrated across cultures. In Haiti, Fèt Gede honors the spirits of the dead with rituals that include music, dancing, and offerings like alcohol or animal sacrifices. These gatherings are joyful, celebrations of life, death and ancestry while rich in Vodou’s traditions. Similarly, Mexico’s Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) brings families together to create elaborate altars adorned with vibrant marigolds, candles, and mementos. In Oaxaca, these altars have become symbols of solidarity, as Mexicans recently dedicated altars to honor those lost in Palestine, bridging cultures through shared grief and hope. Blending ancestral wisdom with modern resistance movements creates a powerful reminder: connecting with our ancestors isn’t just about honoring the past—it’s about securing our future.

Resilience in Practice

Starting your practice can be intimidating as you forge a relationship with your ancestors. You are embracing a new language and learning to communicate in the spirit realm. Pursue this journey at your own pace. As you honor your DNA and those who paved the way for you to be here, ancestral wounds, patterns, and triggers may arise or become more prominent. This is your opportunity to be the family chain breaker, the liberator for future generations. When we build altars, honor ancestors, and engage in rituals, we do more than preserve traditions. We restore our connection to the wisdom that sustains us through adversity and heals to prevent further traumas from being passed down. Ancestral altars offer a pathway to self-discovery, clarity, and strength, reminding us that we are never alone. The spirits of our ancestors walk with us, urging us to dance, sing, and tell our stories—because in doing so, we ensure that their legacies thrive in every beat of our hearts.