From the glasses of outside viewers Haiti may seem like a dump city overrun by terrorists, unnecessary violence, gangs, high crime rates, and a corrupted government but for me, a native to this country, I would do anything to go back.
Anything just to watch the sun rise again touching everything in its presence. Touching the palm trees, those large, and might I add real, coconuts and mangos, the farms, animals, the beautiful lively streets, and the people from all shades of color. All the commerce, conversations, stores, and merchants brought a certain radiant light to Haiti. That is the country Haiti that I know of.
In the gruesome and original words of Donald Trump, the 45th president of the United States, Haiti was referred to as a “shithole country” including other African nations. I know Haiti is known as one of the poorest third-world countries but have you ever wondered why that is the case? Time and time again, Haiti gives and gives resources and helps but yet they still are backstabbed and undermined by countries that were supposed allies but that has not stopped us as a people. Haitians are brave and strong which is where the term “zoe” comes from. In the face of danger Haitians do not back down but instead, we have learned to smile in the face of danger for years.
“Zoe” is a word that Haitians use to refer to each other whether as friends, family, or more. It is a word that means bone which is the exact embodiment of what a Haitian is. We are as strong as bones so you can imagine that this word has an unbelievable amount of history behind it that almost any Haitian knows all too well.
I have not stepped foot in Haiti dating back all the way 14 years in the past, which was when I was 4 but even so it makes me miss my island even more. I especially miss the strong communities and friendships that were made because even now I still look to them whenever I need guidance, reassurance, or just some plain advice.
My mother would tell me infinite stories of myself as a baby and the shenanigans and adventures I got myself into which would take me right back home. Even though I cannot recall these memories because of how young I was, it felt like a refresher that made me get closer to my roots and who I truly am.
Those days when she would take the time to tell me about my heritage really really built up my confidence for the better because when I first was integrated into American schools I felt like the odd one out and alienated from the rest of my classmates. I could never find myself relating to or being able to tell jokes like them because I didn’t understand the humor behind it. As a Haitian that was fresh off the soil of Haiti to American soil, I would get called horrid names such as a fob, dirty, and stupid solely because of my origin but those stories of what Haiti was like helped me to stomach all the ridicule.
Fast forward a couple of years in the future that once little girl that I knew is now in high school, nervous to start her first day of school in a new place far different than what she’s used to. I made lots of friends and lost twice as much but not all of it was a loss because I discovered the Haitian club that welcomed me with open arms. That was during freshman year but midway through the year Covid struck and put everything on a long pause.
Christel Jean-Baptiste reading a poem for Haitian club flag day event. Photo submitted by Jean-Baptiste.
Months and months pass by and we are finally allowed back into the schools. I’m now even more nervous than I was freshman year but somehow I found my way back into the Haitian club and instead of going back as just a regular member I walked out as one of the coordinators. I took part in making large decisions as one of the club’s leaders and also took over the social media aspect of things. This club eased my way back into my junior and senior years of high school and made everything less tense and more enjoyable for me.
Throughout the years I have found little places all around my environment that felt more like a home away from home where I can be unapologetically myself all down to my roots and back. Even though I no longer live in Haiti, Haiti has never left nor deserted me. As a matter of fact, Haiti is in me. I carry my culture through the sounds, dancing, food, and clothing of Haiti. It courses through my veins and radiates on the outside of myself.
