Une année académique comme les autres…

En cette dernière semaine de l’année, je pense à l’année académique qui elle, vient tout juste de commencer. Avec tous les problèmes qu’a connu Haïti l’année dernière, ce n’est qu’en octobre que j’ai pu boucler mes cours de l’année académique 2009-2010. Donc, ce n’est qu’à la première semaine de décembre que j’ai commencé les cours de l’année 2010-2011. Et depuis, les cours ont été interrompus par des manifestations post-électorales et maintenant les vacances de fin d’année. Il y avait aussi une rareté d’essence sur le marché, mais j’ai pu quand même me rendre à l’ENS. Avec tout ça, on serait peut-être tenté de dire que cette année académique s’annonce comme particulièrement difficile, mais je me rends compte qu’en fait, chaque année vient avec son lot de problèmes et on fait avec. (On est bien obligé, comme je l’explique dans ce court texte.)

Je travaille avec les étudiants de première et deuxième années du département de Lettres Modernes. Dans nos nouvelles structures en bois, sans portes. Vous pouvez donc imaginer le bruit des tap-taps qui passent avec leur musique stridente, les klaxons des voitures, les gens qui crient. En plus, bien que la majorité des livres de l’ENS ait survécu au séisme, la bibliothèque de l’école n’est pas encore fonctionnelle, faute d’espace. Vous imaginez bien une faculté sans bibliothèque ? Un cours de littérature se faire sans que les étudiants aient libre accès aux livres? Et pourtant, en dépit de tout ça, on travaille. On fait comme on peut. Et ce n’est pas si mal. Le début d’une année académique charrie tant de possibilités, tant d’ouvertures sur le monde. Je me rends compte qu’en dépit de tout de ce qu’on a vécu cette année, et tout ce qui se profile à l’horizon, ceci n’a pas changé. Et c’est tant mieux.

Les deux cours que j’offre ce semestre sont :

Introduction à la littérature francophone de la Caraïbe. Dans ce cours, on lit des extraits de la Revue Indigène, Le Cahier d’un retour au pays natal, L’Éloge de la Créolité. On discute du réalisme merveilleux et du spiralisme et des auteurs comme Léon-Gontran Damas et Frankétienne.

La littérature haïtienne contemporaine. Cette année, j’ai pris l’enfance comme thème pour ce cours. Le choix de textes est toujours difficile car il y en a tellement d’intéressants et de pertinents. En plus, il faut choisir des livres disponibles dans la bibliothèque de l’ENS (ce qui n’est pas possible cette année !) ou que les étudiants peuvent se procurer pour pas trop cher, donc des textes publiés en Haïti en ce qui concerne les romans.  Malheureusement, étant donné que le semestre est écourté, on lira moins de textes. Quelques nouvelles : « Alawonnbadè » de Cynthia Bastien (2005), « Lucette » de Paulette Poujol-Oriol (1991) et « La Folie était venue avec la pluie » de Yanick Lahens (2006) et deux romans: L’Odeur du café de Dany Laferrière (1991) et  Le Mirador aux Etoiles d’Evelyne Trouillot (2007).

J’ai hâte de reprendre les conversations déjà entamées. En attendant, je vous souhaite à tous un 2011 bien meilleure que 2010. 

NM

Haiti Classes Conclusion

A couple of weeks ago a representative from my university's publicity office contacted me about doing a feature on Haiti for the faculty and staff publication.  We had a great conversation about my disappointment with US media images about Haiti since the earthquake, teaching classes about Haiti,  the potential for university collaborations between the US and Haiti, and my research and advocacy  on work sexual violence.  You can read the article that came out of our conversation here. 

This conversation took place at the end of the semester and thus the conclusion of my two classes on Haiti,  "Haiti Cherie:  Haitian Literature and Culture" and the interdisciplinary "Haiti and Globalization: Haitian Studies 101."  I am still finishing up my grading, so here are just two observations based the experience and my conversations with students throughout the semester.

Teaching about Haiti in the USA setting demands an interdisciplinary approach.  While one class was rigorously interdisciplinary, the other was mostly poetry and novels with a few articles interspersed throughout.  In this class students did not have as complete [if there is even such a thing as this] a picture or a context for some of the issues brought forth in the texts.  Because I tend to emphasize class discussion rather than lecturing I did not spend as much time as I could have filling out the whole picture.  This was far easier in the other class because we read:  Laurent DuBois' Avengers of the New World:  The Story of the Haitian Revolution,  Robert Fatton's Haiti's Predatory Republic, Paul Farmer's The Uses of Haiti and excerpts from Beverly Bell's Walking on Fire:  Haitian Women's Stories of Survival and Resistance and the collection The Butterfly's Way:  Voices from the Haitian Dyaspora among others.  We also read fiction:  Marie Vieux-Chauvet's Love, Anger, Madness, Edwidge Danticat's The Dew Breaker, and Rene Philoctete's Massacre River in addition to several poems.  In large part because of this wide range of texts, the students in the interdisciplinary class had more points of access and could discuss these texts from a broader range of perspectives.  Interestingly, most of the students in this class were also of Haitian descent which also changed the conversation significantly.  It was important to me to be able to provide this type of space for these students so that they can understand the difference between being part of a culture, and how a humanities curricular approach could assist them in learning more to offer a completely different point of view.  Judging from the number of emails and comments that I received at the end of the semester that more or less stated "I never realized how much I didn't know about Haiti," I do think this approach worked!

The other observation is about how important it is to expose students to different ways of thinking about cultures in contexts outside of the classroom.  I think next time I teach the class I will definitely incorporate a required "community" component that has students interact with some of the Haitian organizaitons in Boston or attend an event.  I did suggest to them that they do so for extra credit, which is probably why no one took me up on it...But I do think that having students move outside of the classroom to learn about materials they encounter on the written page or through films significantly expands and enriches their perspectives on the topic.  To me this is another way of learning through immersion, which pedagogically produces such great results.

As I mentioned in my previous post about these classes, figuring out what to teach in 13 short weeks is always a challenge especially given my desire to provide as nuanced a vision of Haiti as possible.  There were many texts I had to take out as the semester went on, and some things I wanted to do but did not get a chance to.  That being said, I am really looking forward to teaching both of these classes again and adjusting the content to make them even better in the future!

RMJC

Prix Carbet de la Caraïbe et du Tout-Monde 2010 attribué à Evelyne Trouillot

Le weekend dernier, le Prix Carbet de la Caraïbe et du Tout-Monde 2010 a été décerné à Evelyne Trouillot pour son roman La Mémoire aux abois, dont vous pouvez lire le compte-rendu ici. Nous vous invitons à lire la déclaration des membres du jury ainsi que le texte de remerciement de l’auteur.

Gosier, le 17 décembre 2010
Déclaration des membres du jury du Prix Carbet de la Caraïbe et du Tout-Monde :
• Pour : l’originalité avec laquelle sont convoqués les tremblements de l’Histoire et des histoires dont les
soubresauts n’ont pas fini se secouer nos imaginaires caribéens,
• Pour : la Retenue, la Tendresse, les Silences , les souffles, qui sont dévoilés tout en Intérieur et qui révèlent les énigmes des destins,
• Pour : ces voix qui assiègent, qui résonnent et qui ne proposent pas de solutions établies, et qui simplement invitent le lecteur à vivre avec les malédictions de nos passés,
• Pour : une littérature dans laquelle les écrivaines se distinguent de plus en plus et qui offrent des perspectives inattendues, imprévisibles,
• Pour : un roman vivant qui libère une esthétique fragmentée et indirecte, à la limite de l’Inextricable,
le Jury du Prix Carbet de la Caraïbe et du Tout-Monde réuni en Guadeloupe cette année décerne son Prix à Mme Evelyne Trouillot pour son roman « La mémoire aux abois », roman publié aux éditions Hoëbeke dans la collection Etonnants voyageurs dirigée par Michel Le Bris en mai 2010.  


Message de remerciement par Evelyne Trouillot:

« L’homme n’est jamais seul alors que je vous parle et que vous m’écoutez », nous dit le poète haïtien René Philoctète. Nous ne sommes pas seuls et la parole, le langage, la poésie nous unit. Un prix littéraire de la Caraïbe et du Tout-Monde casse les frontières et les renoue autrement. Bouleverse les stéréotypes et les clichés pour regarder le monde d’une autre perspective en déplaçant les centres et renversant les périphéries pour former de nouveaux centres. Autant de centres que de paroles.
Le centre d’où j’ai choisi d’écrire je le situe à Anse-à-Foleur, curieux petit village au nom frondeur du nord-ouest d’Haïti où la mer monte à l’assaut des images et où le vent s’offre aux caresses des enfants, comme un poème en devenir. Je l’ai choisi au hasard d’une promenade et depuis, il habite mon imaginaire lorsque j’écris quelque soit le lieu où je suis. Lorsque j’écris, je suis seule sans l’être vraiment.
Aujourd’hui, je suis riche d’une multitude de douleurs, car l’année 2010 a pour mon pays multiplié les catastrophes, frappant, heurtant avec des pauses à peine perceptibles. Une année tumultueuse et interminable, et je ne peux prendre la parole sans penser aux compatriotes disparus, aux survivants meurtris dans leurs esprits et dans leurs chairs. Je suis riche de beaucoup de larmes, je suis pleine de colère et de résolution. Et si je parais seule devant vous, ma tête est haute et digne parce que mes pas s’alignent sur d’autres pas.
De mon village au nom frondeur que je garde en moi comme un talisman de beauté, de révolte et de dignité, je suis riche de toute la puissance du monde : du courage des femmes afghanes, des cris des mères en deuil des quartiers démunis de Chicago, des bruits de vague houleuse des jeunes du Cap-Haïtien. De mon village au nom frondeur qui m’habite j’arpente le monde et les êtres.
Recevoir le prix Carbet de la Caraïbe et du Tout Monde c’est placer Anse à Foleur au coeur de la Caraïbe et du monde. C’est une fois de plus déplacer le centre, bousculer les pouvoirs et revenir à l’essentiel, à cet humain qui est en chacun de nous et qui donne à « la plus petite larme d’un peuple valeur d’éternité ».
Aujourd’hui je pense à celles et à ceux qui ont péri pendant la dictature, celle de Duvalier ou d’un autre, qu’importe. Elles creusent toutes les mêmes blessures, enfantent les mêmes horreurs. Je pense à ceux qui y ont opposé leurs poings levés, leurs pleurs, leurs éclats de rire et leurs rêves. Je pense à tous ceux et à toutes celles qui se sont accrochés à la vie et à sa beauté toujours palpitante. C’est en pensant à eux que je reçois ce prix car la plus petite parcelle de bonheur et de dignité mérite d’être partagée.

New Book Review!

Martin Munro, Edwidge Danticat: A Reader’s Guide. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2010, 222p.


Martin Munro opens the introduction to this volume with a question: “when you go to a bookstore to look for something by Edwidge Danticat, which section do you go to first?” (1). Would it be Caribbean literature? African American? Ethnic? Women’s literature? The first part of the guide goes about answering those questions in different ways. Michael Dash examines Danticat’s connections to her Haitian precursors. Carine Mardorossian explores how Danticat fits in with other women writers from the Caribbean. She states that "[Danticat] thus deliberately develops a 'poetics of location' in which one's privileging of a particular and 'coherent' cultural space does not hinder Relation but provides the very condition for it. In this process of identification, the opposition between nation and transnationalism dissolves to reveal the inextricable imbrication of the two" (47). To me, this particular view of Relation is essential to understanding a work such as Danticat’s, or any work, for that matter. I remain wary of the idea that writers are beyond categorization. Although we may choose to ignore certain classifications at times, or not let them overshadow the text itself, they are always there, informing our readings. For Munro, "While this in-between situation may be seen as a loss of identity for Danticat (as for many other exiled authors), it is also a kind of liberation in that she is free from many of the constraints and expectations that direct, unambiguous attachments bring" (4). Yet, Munro himself acknowledges that Danticat does not consider herself to be an exile. She can and does go "home" whenever she wants.

Head on over to the book page to read the rest of the review!

Haïti à l’honneur sur France Culture

Ce vendredi, 26 novembre 2010, Haïti sera à l’honneur toute la journée sur France Culture et franceculture.com. France Culture a décidé de consacrer 24 heures aux émissions sur Haïti, diffusées depuis Haïti. Une occasion à ne pas rater. Pour plus d’informations : http://www.franceculture.com/blog-au-fil-des-ondes-2010-11-17-24h-en-haiti-antenne-speciale-en-continu-vendredi-26-novembre-2010-

EN DIRECT DU STUDIO DE L’HOTEL LE PLAZA (vendredi 26 novembre)

* deux émissions

Les Matins, par Marc Voinchet (7h-9h, heure française, 1h-3h, heure haïtienne)

La Grande Table, le magazine de l'actualité culturelle avec Caroline Broué et Hervé Gardette (12h-13h30 heure française, 6h-7h30 heure haïtienne)

* deux programmes spéciaux

Le rôle des médias dans la société haïtienne par Jean-Marc Four

(14-15h, heure française, 8h-9h, heure haïtienne)

Le grand melting pot religieux haïtien par Matthieu Conquet et Mélanie Chalandon

(16-17h, heure française, 10h-11h heure haïtienne)

* Les journaux (7h, 8h, 12h30, 18h), présentés par Frédéric Métezeau

Avec les reportages de Christine Moncla, Eric Chaverou, Vanessa Descouraux, Isabelle Labeyrie, Sophie Becherel et Grégory Philips.

DEUX GRANDS ENREGISTREMENTS EN PUBLIC DEPUIS L'OLOFFSON (jeudi 25 novembre)

De 18h30 à 19h30, (heure haïtienne) Le Rendez-Vous, l'émission médias/musique/direct de Laurent Goumarre (enregistrement le jeudi 25 novembre en public, pour une diffusion le vendredi 26 novembre à 19h, heure française).

De 20h à 22h, (heure haïtienne), SOIREE SPECIALE EN PUBLIC

présentée par Alexandre Héraud et Esméralda Milcé, présentatrice de la télévision nationale haïtienne.

Le Patrimoine et la culture d'Haïti avec des lectures, des entretiens, des plateaux musicaux... pour aborder (presque toutes) les formes de l'art et du patrimoine d'Haïti : littérature, musique, photographie... (Diffusion le vendredi 26 novembre à 20h, heure française).

L’ACTUALITE D’HAITI AVEC LA REDACTION DE FRANCE CULTURE

Pendant près d'une semaine, les journalistes de la rédaction de France Culture réaliseront de nombreux reportages diffusés dans les journaux principalement sur les élections, la reconstruction et l’humanitaire.

UNE LIGNE OUVERTE DE 0H05 A 2H10 (heure de Paris)

Par téléphone ou en studio, des Haïtiens de France, d’Europe, d’Afrique, d’Amérique, de tous âges et de tous horizons, sont invités à intervenir en direct pour raconter leur itinéraire, dire leur attachement à Haïti, réagir aux émissions de la journée diffusées depuis Port au Prince. L’antenne est ouverte à tous les témoignages, ceux des anonymes comme ceux des représentants d’associations d’entraide à Haïti.

Le standard téléphonique de France Culture est le +33 (0)1 56 40 57 57

Haitian Studies Association Conference

Last weekend I had a wonderful time attending the Haitian Studies Association
conference at Brown University. The theme for this year’s 22nd annual
conference, “Haiti, History, Healing: Facing the Challenges of Reconstruction”
necessarily invoked and referenced the impact of the January 12th earthquake.
For two days Haitian and Haitianist scholars, mostly from U.S. and international
colleges and universities met to discuss and present on an array of
interdisciplinary topics. This year was the largest conference in the organization's
22 year history. The schedule was packed with several panels taking place
concurrently, my only regret was that I could not be everywhere at once to
participate in all the lively discussions or connect with as many people as I
wanted to!

The conference organizers were committed to offering viable strategies for
addressing the issues surrounding Haiti’s rebuilding in diverse ways. We
wrestled with questions such as what is, and what should be the role of the
diaspora in the rebuilding? What are some effective strategies for dealing with
the problematic NGO deluge in Haiti? What do viable transnational
partnerships look like post January 12? The ostensible concern with thinking
about Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake manifested through conversations
about infrastructure, economics, politics, and education as well as through papers
on culture, literature and religion. I participated in one such panel on the visual,
textual and media images of the earthquake coverage for which I gave a paper on
Haiti parmi les vivants, Louis-Philippe Dalembert’s widely circulated testimonial
and the Ciné Institute film Haiti’s Heroes to explore how Haitians are using
cultural production to offer up their own images that we can read as counternarratives
to the dominant media images. Stéphanie Larrieux of Clark
University provided some analytical tools and a theoretical lens for watching and
understanding displays like the “Hope for Haiti” telethon that aired shortly after
the earthquake.

Gabrielle Civil’s paper “ Reconstructing Silence: Jacqueline Beaugé- Rosier’s A Vol
d’ombre as Poetry/ Translation/ Performance” was a powerful example of how to
think about reconstruction as a lens for viewing literature. I especially
appreciated that Gabrielle focused on poetry by a woman writer that many
people had not heard of. Following her paper, Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley also
offered new theoretical concepts for understanding sexuality and gender in Haiti
in a paper on the documentary film “Of Men and Gods.” The type of scholarship
on these panels demonstrates the kind of groundbreaking work people are doing
to use new frames for thinking about old concepts. Of course the old staples
were also present, there were at least two papers that looked at the work of
Edwidge Danticat and one that focused on the representation of violence in
Marie Vieux-Chauvet’s Colère that were given by graduate students from Yale and NYU.

In the words of HSA president and professor of psychology at the University of
Miami, Guerda Nicolas, the conference was “dedicated to the lives of those
whom we lost during the quake, the survival of those who continue to defy the
odds, and the hope for a better Haiti to come.” Themes of loss, hope and
solidarity were evident through personal conversations with people, many of
whom had not had a chance to connect since the earthquake. As Marc Prou
put it, “through the various presentations at the conference, we hope that all of
us will find a common place to grieve, reflect, and develop strategies for the
reconstruction of our homeland, Haiti.” Here I am reminded of the important
social and emotional role that an academic organization can play. HSA operates
in many ways like a family of people who love, care about, are committed to and
conduct their research on Haiti -- at times with passions bordering on obsession.
As Dr. Prou also noted in his introductory comments, the earthquake has shifted
the contours of Haitian Studies and there lies “critical work” ahead for
Haitians and members of the diaspora. The program reflected this critical work
in conversations through panels with titles such as “The Republic of 10,000 NGOs - Roles and Impacts of NGOs Following Haiti’s Earthquake” organized by professor and Poto-Mitan filmmaker  Mark Schuller and featuring feminist scholar and sociologist Carolle Charles and Alix Cantave. (Unfortunately, neither Tatiana Wah nor Nancy Dorsinville, both of whom were scheduled to be a part of this panel, could attend and thus were not able to contribute their important work to this conversation).

In a roundtable on the “Gender Specific Needs of the Reconstruction," feminist
activists Anne-Christine d’Adesky, Taina Bien-Aimé of Equality Now and Nadia
Todres, a photographer for the Haitian Adolescent Girls Network addressed
some of the major issues facing women in the camps. Leonie Hermantin of the
Lambi Fund chimed in regularly for this session ,weighing in the on the
relationships between women’s organizations in Haiti and women’s groups
doing transnational work in Haiti. This was the only panel that addressed the
reconstruction from the perspective of gender and it was unfortunate that this
could not have been a plenary session. The discussants took hold of the
following questions: how are gender specific issues being played out in the
reconstruction? What are some of the ongoing challenges that reconstruction has
introduced for women and girls? How have grassroots women’s organizations
in Haiti responded to these needs? How have Haitians in the diaspora
attempted to build transnational alliances with women in Haiti in response to
these needs? Specifically, this panel took on the issues of rebuilding from a
gender specific perspective by discussing major issues such as the high incidence
of sexual violence in the tents, the escalation of infant and maternal mortality
rates, and the prostitution of young women. D’Adesky spoke about the need for
monitoring to collect data about the incidence of sexual violence in the camps.

She also called for members of HSA to “step it up” in regards to work that
addresses the needs of women. Taina Bien-Aime provided an overview of the
delegation of lawyers and women’s health specialists who traveled to Haiti in
May 2010 in order to investigate the prevalence and patterns of rape and other
forms of gender based violence as well as of the petitions before the Inter-American
Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) calling for the IACHR to require that
the government of Haiti and the international community take immediate action
to protect Haitian women from sexual violence. This delegation partnered with
KOFAVIV in Haiti which resulted in the report entitled “Our Bodies Are Still
Trembling: Haitian Women’s Fight Against Rape.”

The conference featured two keynote speakers, Professor Laurent Dubois who
spoke on the theme of revising our understandings of Haitian history focusing
on early 19th century understanding of democracy, and Professor Emeritus
Patrick Bellegarde-Smith who gave a lecture entitled “Foundations of Haiti: The
Telescope of History.” Bellegarde-Smith also received the Association’s Lifetime
Achievement Award for his work on Haitian history and vodun.
The final plenary section was a discussion about rebuilding the Haitian higher
education system which featured several scholars and administrators based in
Haiti and the United States. This panel included Pierre Michel Laguerre,
Director General of the Ministry of National Education in Haiti and Yves Voltaire
from Université Publique du Sud aux Cayes. Laguerre emphasized the link
between the legal system and the education system as well as the importance of
not only considering higher education but also primary and elementary levels of
education, “il est encore temps de penser aux enfants de notre pays.” He
ended on a positive note, declaring that “une nouvelle Haïti est possible.” Yves
Voltaire tapped into the energy and solidarity of the association, noting that HSA
is “becoming my family as well.” Voltaire offered several tangible solutions for
addressing higher education: to design and implement masters and doctoral
programs, organize e-learning and e-teaching, implement overseas scholarships,
create community colleges, and encourage innovative entrepreneurship. His
presentation also showcased the activities of the students from his university,
describing their unparalleled drive and desire for education. Fritz Deshommes
from l’Université d’Etat d’Haïti expressed that his only regret was that more Haiti-based
scholars could not participate in the conference. In making this point he addressed
what was the greatest weakness of the conference, and is always one of the
greatest challenges for HSA. The topic was brought up again at the business
meeting during a discussion about HSA finances.

The final speakers on the panel were Alix Cantave and Marc Prou who reported
back on the meeting on Rebuilding Haiti and Improving Higher Education that
took place in Port-au-Prince from October 26-27. Like their co-panelists they
outlined some of the challenges to the Haitian university system and emphasized the fact that the change needs to come from within that system rather than from the
outside via the diaspora, NGO’s etc. They also outlined what HSA is trying to
trying to accomplish through the partnership, mainly being able to create a
consortium of institutions that would support the rebuilding with the
participation and leadership of Haitians in Haiti.

I am always struck by the rigorous inter-disciplinarity of HSA as well as its
political import as compared to other academic conferences (although right now
I am in Texas at the American Studies Association which is more like HSA in
terms of its political commitment!). There were panels on literature, religion,
economics, and political science. The array of people present was equally
impressive; there were scholars, practitioners, activists, and artists present to share
how the earthquake had impacted their work and to offer new lenses
through which to understand post-earthquake Haiti.

For me, the most powerful part of the conference was the feeling of camaraderie
and solidarity that imbues the organization and its members. Being part of this
community as a junior scholar is particularly edifying, given the opportunities for
mentorship and guidance that senior scholars like Claudine Michel, Gina Ulysse,
Marc Prou and others are so committed to providing for students and junior faculty.

RMJC

Bon bagay

I hope today's post makes you smile. Sometimes I feel like I focus too much on the negative in my posts, giving the false impression that nothing good is happening in the world of Haitian culture these days. That is far from the truth.

For example, this past October 16th and 17th, the 4th annual edition of Artisanat en Fête was held. It was a great occasion for a family outing. It’s no secret that Haitian art and craftsmanship is not only beautiful, but usually of high quality, so it was a delight to wander the grounds of the Parc Historique de la Canne à Sucre and behold all the wonderful items on display. There were paintings and clothes, handbags and sculptures, furniture and sandals, jewelry and traditional foods. This year, the Office National de l'Artisanat (ONART) provided a wonderful addition to the festival, with hands-on workshops for the kids in attendance. The children were able to work with clay or make necklaces out of shells and beads, learning the value of Haitian craft and artisans from an early age. The art on display was out of my price range, but I did take pictures and collect business cards in the hopes that I could track down some of the artists when I’m able to afford their work. There seemed to be fewer artisans in attendance than last year and there were some organizational problems. Paying with a credit card was especially tricky. Still, Artisanant en Fête continues to attract patrons and artisans alike and constitutes an amazing showcase of Haitian culture and talent.

To continue with the bon bagay theme: last weekend, I had the pleasure of participating in the Haiti and the Americas conference, organized by Florida Atlantic University. From October 21-23, Rafe Dalleo, Carla Calargé and Clevis Headley brought together a wonderful group of scholars, artists and professionals to reflect upon and discuss the links and relationships that exist between Haiti and the rest of the Americas. Myriam Chancy’s keynote address, "A Marshall Plan for a Haiti at Peace: To Continue or End the Legacy of the Revolution" was especially noteworthy. Chancy examined the notion of aid, how it is distributed and the various motivations behind it. The other keynote speakers were Sibylle Fischer and J. Michael Dash. There were no simultaneous panels, allowing the conversation to flow from one panel to the next. Of course, that made for some very long days, but it also fostered a sense of community that was well worth it. Topics discussed included the rise of Protestantism in Haiti, the Haitian community in Cuba, representations of sex in Haitian literature, the reaction of African Americans to the US refusal to recognize Haitian independance and a reading of Wyclef Jean's candidacy by yours truly. The interdisciplinary perspective was quite stimulating, allowing us to engage the main topic from various angles. Many scholarly and personal connections were made over the course of the three days.  I look forward to the published volume that will result from this conference and encourage everyone else to look for it, too.

NM

Chimen lekòl

Lekòl Repiblik Ekwatè nan Delma ki poko janm ouvri ane sa a

Lekòl ta sanse ouvri mwa sa a ann Ayiti. Ministè Edikasyon Nasyonal te programe rantre lekòl la pou lendi 4 oktòb. Men pi fò lekòl nan zòn tranblemantè a te frape a pa t ouvri pòt yo jou sa a. Genyen ki ranvwaye antre a pou youn oubyen de semenn. Gen lekòl ki fèmen pòt yo nèt. Genyen ki ouvri men ki pa konn pou konbyen tan yo ka kenbe.

Selon tradisyon ayisyen, Oktòb ta sipoze vle di blokis nan lari, bak machann devan pòt lekòl. Inifòm tout koulè k ap pran chimen lekòl. Ane sa a, se yon lòt koze. Ane sa a, blokis la se pa paske gen anpil timoun ki pral lekòl, men paske wout yo vin pi kraze toujou, yo plen debri, tant nan tout lari. Pandan Minis Edikasyon Nasyonal ap mande tout moun montre solidarite, elèv Lise Tousen ap fè manifestasyon pou yo mande gouvènman an deplase moun k ap viv nan lakou lekòl yo pou kou kapab kòmanse. Profesè ki pa touche depi plizyè mwa pa al travay. Genyen ki fè sit-in. Sa fè plizyè mwa n ap tande pale de valè kòb ki pral bay pou kore sektè edikasyon nan peyi a, pou fè tout ti ayisyen al lekòl gratis. Men oktòb rive sou nou. Kisa ki fèt vrèman ? Anpil moun isit ak medya yo tou gentan pale de echèk. Anpil moun gentan wè distans ki egziste ant timoun ki soti nan fanmi ki gen mwayen ak sa k soti nan fanmi ki pa genyen ap vin plis. Sosyete a ap vin pi dezekilibre toujou. Preske di mwa apre tranblemantè 12 janvye a, rantre lekòl la pèmèt nou wè valè travay ki rete pou fèt. Valè travay ki pa fèt, menm pandan tout kantite moun ak òganizasyon vle ede Ayiti ak Ayisyen. Nan nouvo projè CIRH la fenk aprouve, gen plizyè ki konsène edikasyon. Men si se 7 oktòb, kòb pou bati lekòl sa yo aprouve, kilè y ap disponib pou timoun ki bezwen al lekòl ?

Pitit pa m lan kòmanse premye ane fondamantal ane sa a. Eske l ap fè tout ane lekòl li nan lekòl prive ? Menm jan avè k lè m te lekòl, menm jan ak lè granparan l te lekòl ? Anpil moun te espere apre sa k te pase 12 janvye a, t ap gen kèk gwo chanjman nan sosyete a. Mwen poko wè chanjman sa yo. Si semenn sa a, gen kèk timoun ki kapab pran chimen lekòl, pi fò pa ka ale. Swa paske lekòl yo pa egziste ankò, swa paske espas lekòl la okipe, swa paske paran yo pa gen mwayen. Olye chak ti fondasyon, chak ti ONG, chak gwoup moun k ap anonse sa y ap fè pou timoun nan tèl kan oswa tèl lòt, ala bèl sa ta bèl si te gen yon anons nasyonal ki di bon jan lekòl ap gratis pou tout timoun jan konstitisyon an mande l. Ala bèl sa ta bèl si sa te fèt vre. Gen peyi kote lekòl prive se yon chwa, yon privilèj. Isit la, se sa ki nòmal pandan nou konnen majorite popilasyon an nan difikilte ekonomik. Se lekòl leta a ki vin yon privilèj. Gen yon epòk, lise yo te pami pi bon lekòl peyi a te genyen. Fòk nivo akademik lekòl leta yo tounen nan nivo ekselans sa a pandan tou yo kapab resevwa tout timoun nan peyi a. Tout paran vle sa ki pi bon pou pitit yo. Paran ayisyen pa ta dwe nan tout difikilte sa yo pou voye pitit yo lekòl.

Semenn sa a mwen kontan, mwen fyè paske ti pitit mwen an rantre nan lekòl fondamantal. Semenn sa a, mwen tris, mwen wont paske pi fò ti konpatriyòt li yo pa ka fè menm jan avè l.

NM

How to Build a Course on Haitian Literature

How do you construct courses about Haiti?  Or, what are some classes that you have taken that focus exclusively on Haiti?  This semester both of my classes have a Haitian focus:   "Haiti Chérie:  Haitian Literature and Culture" and "Haitian Studies 101 or Haiti and Globalization."  The former is in the department of Romance Languages and Literatures and the latter for the African and African Diaspora Studies Program.  In compiling my syllabi and preparing to teach I have been confronted with what has become an increasingly daunting task.  How to you cover the vastness of Haitian history, the depths of Haitian culture, and the vicissitudes of Haitian literature, and the ebbs and flows of Haitian politics with nuance and complexity in one short semester? I set out to begin with the books.  What are the essentials?  Moreover, how do I approach teaching such a range of material knowing that this would probably be the first and only class on Haiti my students may take?

I set out to begin with the books.  What are the essentials?  The French department class appears to be a bit more straightforward due to its literary focus.  The interdisciplinary approach to literature as I see it necessitates examining history along side other fields such as anthropology and sociology so I was determined to use other sources such as historical documents, films and music.  Since the title of my course is Haiti Chérie I let my students listen to the original version of the song during the second week.  Doing so allowed me to give them a taste of “sound studies” as a new field in African diasporic studies, encouraging them to listen to these novels for their rhythms, sonorities and musicality rather than only for the words. I also gave them an excerpt of l’Acte d’independence to expose them to work from that formative historic time period.

Certain books from the literary canon like Jacques Roumain’s Gouverneurs de la Rosée and Jacques Stephen Alexis’ Compère Général Soleil were among the first I placed on the syllabus.  I also wanted to be sure to introduce them to important literary movements such as La Ronde, indigenisme and spiralisme. The Roumain novel helped to cover indigenisme, but I was at a loss for which to include for the latter.  Despite my abiding desire to include something by Frankétienne ultimately I decided that some of his work might be too challenging for my students at this level.  I decided to limit my discussions of these movements to lecture notes that would provide the students with an overview of what they entailed. 

I am also deeply committed to teaching contemporary authors, understanding that, as Barbara Christian once put it in “The Race for Theory,” writing disappears unless we read it and talk about it.   For contemporary Haitian authors I had on my original list Evelyne Trouillot, Gary Victor, Lyonel Trouillot, and Kettly Mars. Trouillot’s La chambre interdite could allow me to be more inclusive at the level of genre since it is a book of short stories.  I taught La chambre… two years ago in a survey of francophone literature and know how well Trouillot’s range of topics connected with students. Pairing Mars’ Saisons sauvages with Marie Vieux-Chauvet’s Colère would give me two for one, allowing me to explore the role of intertextuality as well as the category of “roman de la dictature.”

Another area to cover is Haitian writers living in the diaspora. I began with the Canadians—Marie-Célie Agnant, Dany Laffériere, Gérard Étienne,  JJ Dominique.  Marie-Célie Agnant’s La dot de Sara was particularly compelling  for how it addresses the themes of “ici” and “là-bas” and cross generational understandings of Haitian identity.  Reading Louis-Philippe Dalembert, and Fabienne Pasquet could broaden our discussion to authors who did not live in francophone countries, introducing us to the contested notion of the francophone category to begin with. I even considered for a brief moment teaching Edwidge Danticat in translation by using Le cri de l’oiseau rouge but that desire was only fleeting as I attempted to whittle down the list.  

Then of course there was the elephant in the room, given the demographics at my university, the majority of my students will have had little to no exposure to Haiti, Haitian culture and literature;  at the same time I could expect to have several Haitian born and Haitian-American students at the very least.  How do I teach about the earthquake? To this end I added a few pieces from the collection of Haiti parmi les vivants.  This book would certainly offer my students an indigenous source of information about the earthquake to measure against all of the outside information they had surely been exposed to.

With a semester made up of only 12 weeks and a limit for how much reading I can assign in a week (a mere 100 pages!) I was in a real quandary about how to divide my syllabus since I needed to pare it down to only five books.  In the end I chose the following:

1.  Jacques-Stephen Alexis, Compère Général Soleil (1955)

2.  Kettly Mars, Saisons Sauvages (2010)

3.  Fabienne Pasquet, L’Ombre de Baudelaire (1999)

4.  Jacques Roumain, Gouverneurs de la Rosée (1944)

5.  Lyonel Trouillot, Bicentennaire (2004)

The list, while not perfect managed to combine canonical authors with others my students certainly may not have heard of, classic novels with more contemporary ones, contemporary and diasporic writers. In the end some of these choices had to be made vulgarly, for example I opted for Trouillot’s Bicentennaire over Victor’s Le diable dans un thé à la citronnelle purely based on the length and number of weeks in the semester. Likewise, I did not include a Haitian-Canadian author only because La dot de Sara was on back order at the school bookstore, leaving me with Pasquet  alone to represent the diaspora.  However I still hope to at the very least include a story from Agnant’s Le silence comme le sang or a piece by Lafferiere. In   terms of poetry I decided to limit myself to the complete works of Rene Depestre, René Philoctète's  Poèmes des îles qui marchent and the anthology Brassage! A Trilingual Anthology of Haitian Poetry by Women.  The other required texts are:  

Poetry:

René Dépestre, Rage de vivre : œuvres poétiques complètes

Me voici 

            Poésie et révolution 

L’âge de Papa Doc 

Alleluia pour les femmes jardins

René Philoctète, Poèmes des îles qui marchent [excerpts]

Brassage : Une anthologie poétique de femmes haïtiennes  [excerpts]

            Mon pays, Marie-Thérèse Colimon-Hall

            Filles des iles, filles des Antilles, Lyssa Laraque-Piquion

Que vive Haiti, Mona Salgado

Films :  

1.     L’homme sur les quais/ Man by the Shore, Raoul Peck (1994

2.    The Agronomist, Jonathan Demme (2004)

3.   The Price of Sugar (2007)

4.   Poto Mitan: Haitian Women, the Pillar of Society (2008) by Marc Schuller

As I think back to what I learned about Haiti as an undergraduate and graduate student I remember the frequent revision of the classics such as CLR James’ The Black Jacobins and Jacques Roumain’s Les Gouverneurs de la rosée.  In fact both books were the token book by a Haitian author for at least two classes that I took in my academic career.  Teaching a class with an exclusive focus on Haitian authors allowed me the luxury of including more than merely the one text, but the challenge I encountered was how to choose from such a rich list of authors and manage to cover the range of themes, movements, historical events, time periods, and political moments that make up Haitian literature. 

RMJC

Remember to check out the book page!

This is a friendly reminder to check out our book page from time to time. Our latest review is courtesy of Nicole Brissac. You can read the first couple of paragraphs here, go to the book page for the complete review. Merci, Nicole!

This just in: La mémoire aux abois is on the short list for the Prix Carbet des Lycéens for 2011!

Evelyne Trouillot, La mémoire aux abois, Hoëbeke, (Etonnants voyageurs), 2010, 185 p.
Plus que de dialogues, il s’agit de deux monologues, deux paroles qui se croisent autour d’une même histoire, autour de souvenirs forts liés à Quisquéya.

Deux polices de caractère qui caractérisent les deux personnages fixent la frontière entre deux univers que tout oppose : celui d’une veuve de dictateur qui se meurt, exposée aux regards, tout en étant cachée par la direction de l’hospice qui l’abrite. Curieux et ironique destin !!! L’italique couché, comme cette femme fauchée par l’âge, narre à la 3ème personne les souvenirs d’Odile Doréval. Cette écriture tout en créant une mise à distance, un effet d’objectivité provoque chez le lecteur agacement, ressentiment mais aussi curieusement attachement quand la veuve évoque son enfance et sa volonté farouche de s’en sortir par le haut. L’autre monde est celui d’une jeune quisquéyenne qui ne cesse de raviver des faits douloureux et tragiques que lui a relatés Marie-Carmelle, sa mère. Evénements qui l’ont pétrie, qui continuent à la façonner voire à déterminer son être. Infirmière, elle a pour patiente la « gardienne de la révolution » dont le mari despote a décimé sa famille. Elle est pleine d’une haine contenue perçue par la veuve « Qu’elle la trouvait agaçante, cette fille qui s’occupait d’elle en la fusillant du regard » En son for intérieur, elle déplore : « …de la voir, de m’en occuper m’empêche de dormir » et se remémore les récits de sa mère : « …toutes tes histoires des Doréval reviennent me remplir la tête ». La police de caractère droite qui la symbolise, plus classique, plus normée pour un roman, raconte à la première personne les affres et souffrances de la jeune femme. Ce parti pris d’écriture entraîne, implique et saisit le lecteur qui s’identifie à ce « je » au point d’en prendre le parti, d’en épouser le point de vue. C’est en effet, là, le roman d’une double postulation, d’une double focalisation qui nous rend Quisquéya plus vraie et son histoire plus complexe. Les deux oppositions reconstruisent l’Histoire en rendant présente par des soliloques leurs histoires passées tout en refaisant vivre leurs fantômes intimes.

Représenter Haïti: entre fiction et réalité

La question de représentation haïtienne est d’actualité ces derniers temps. Wyclef Jean voudrait avoir le droit de représenter Haïti au plus haut niveau – même sans tenir compte des prescrits légaux du pays. La semaine dernière, Sarodj Bertin à participé à la phase finale du concours Miss Universe à Las Vegas aux Etats-Unis. Le problème est qu’il n’y a pas eu de concours Miss Haiti, mais plutôt une sélection à laquelle a participé Jean Bertin, le père de la « gagnante ». Donc, Sarodj Bertin, elle aussi, a choisi de représenter le pays, sans tenir compte des principes de base de l’éthique.

Les questions de légitimité dans le cadre d’une compétition spécifique sont assez faciles à résoudre. Pour être éligible à la présidence de la république, Jean doit avoir vécu au moins cinq ans dans le pays et Bertin doit avoir participé à un concours et non à une sélection pour être légitime comme Miss Haïti.

Là où le problème devient plus difficile est quand il ne s’agit plus de concours ni d’élections, mais de la vie de tous les jours. Qui a le droit de parler pour les Haïtiens ? Au nom des Haïtiens ? Et qui désigne ces représentants ?

En dépit de ce que les médias étrangers voudraient nous faire croire, tous les Haïtiens ne se ressemblent pas. Déterminer « l’opinion haïtienne » est une opération aussi délicate que de vouloir déterminer l’opinion américaine ou française, d’autant plus que dans le cas d’Haïti, on n’utilise presque jamais les statistiques.

De même qu’on ne fait pas appel aux statistiques pour affirmer qu’il n’y a pas de classe moyenne en Haïti. Dans quelle catégorie ranger les professeurs et médecins et fonctionnaires et agents de police ? Seraient-ils tous riches ? Tous pauvres ? Mystère.

Les différentes discussions soulevées par les cas Wyclef Jean et Sarodj Bertin montrent l’urgence d’analyser les critères selon lesquels on rejette ou confirme l’identité haïtienne de chacun : son phénotype, les langues parlées, le niveau de langage, sa classe socioéconomique, son niveau d’éducation, son lieu de naissance, son lieu de résidence, le passeport qu’il détient.

En insistant à ce que les Haïtiens correspondent tous à une seule image, on nie la grande diversité de la population haïtienne. Si pour être authentique, un Haïtien doit être pauvre et illettré, il n’y a aucune raison de changer l’état actuel de la majorité de la population. Trouver des solutions à la misère impliquerait la destruction de l’identité haïtienne. Un tel raisonnement est certes absurde. Il faudrait donc des réflexions sérieuses autour de l’identité haïtienne et de ses différentes composantes. Il ne s'agit pas de nier que Wyclef Jean et Sarodj Bertin sont des Haïtiens authentiques, mais de dire qu’en tant que tels, ils devraient montrer un peu plus de respect pour les institutions du pays et sa population.

NM

Haiti on My Mind, Review

 Haiti on My Mind:  Stories by Haitian American Teens is a recent collection of essays by youth of Haitian descent edited by Dana Vincent.  The book was published by Youth Communication, a non-profit youth journalism program that publishes teen stories in books, magazines and other venues.  When I received a message about the book from a colleague, I was intrigued by the premise and immediately ordered it, eager to see youth perspective documented in essay form.

The foreword is written by Edwidge Danticat who herself began writing stories as a youth and had the opportunity to participate in the Youth Communication program. Danticat immediately acknowledges the Haitian issue at the forefront of our minds as she describes traveling to Haiti for the first time after the earthquake.  She writes about observing children of all ages that ‘these children, in many ways, are the symbol of Haiti that is to come.  We can either shield and protect them from a very difficult start or we can turn away and let their stories and voices fade…The young people of Youth Communication have decided not to let these stories fade or die…Haiti is on the mind of these young talented writers at this moment just as it has been on the mind of many others.  However, even before this disaster, as these essays poignantly show, Haiti was already deep in the minds, and hearts, of the teen writers at Youth Communication.”  (7) This is perhaps the strongest point of the book, that it reveals how teenagers—some recent immigrants, some the children of immigrants—conceptualize, imagine, and long for Haiti and how these thoughts translate in their daily lives.  

Just as the editor Vincent does through a game of word association in her introduction, the writers share “what comes to mind when you hear the words Haiti or Haitians” (9).  Few of us will not find the list familiar, “boat people, political instability, illegal aliens, refugees, poorest country in the…and [now] earthquake” (9).  Throughout the book different writers express their own troubling encounters with different variations of these stereotypes.  It is a reductive litany that we are all too familiar with given the dominant negative representations that saturate the media.  The voices of Haiti on My Mind engage these stereotypes directly and in many cases manage to move beyond them. 

For example, in “I May Not Look Haitian, But….” Marsha Dupiton recounts her uncomfortable experience with classmates who had reduced our culture to physical characteristics with which she did not identify.  The story describes Dupiton’s struggle from being embarrassed about her Haitian identity to transforming into a self-assured and self-loving young woman with great pride in her cultural heritage.  For Marsha the change was gradual, a major catalyst on her journey was the poetry of Prosper Sylvain Jr., who in “I Don’t Look Haitian”  the author’s imagined interlocutor  is someone who tells him that he does not look Haitian, to which Sylvain replies with a historical and cultural lesson that goes beyond the glare of media stereotypes.  He writes, “I apologize if there is more to me than voodoo dolls,
and I apologize if there is more to my country than slums, poverty and hunger, and I apologize if my poetry makes you wonder if I am really Haitian, product of years of miscegenation. 
I apologize if your idea and concept of me
is not what I have proven to be.”  By citing Sylvain’s poem and explaining its impact on her life, Dupiton displays the power of creative work to impact youth identity, just as the essays of Haiti on My Mind will surely impact the generation after her. 

Sabrina Rencher details a similar trajectory as Dupiton, chronicling her journey into self-love and self-acceptance after many desperate attempts to fit in with those around her.  For her the transition from Haiti to the United States involves changes on how her own aesthetics are perceived.  She explains “I’m originally from Haiti, there I felt gorgeous.  I felt as if I didn’t have to do anything to fit in with people at school” at the very beginning to introduce the sharp contrast with how she struggled to receive affirmation from her peers in the United States (99).  The first piece by Cassandra Charles, “Tomorrow is Promised to No One,” is actually the only essay with the earthquake of 2010 as its thematic focus, and is the first essay of the book. Charles’ heart-wrenching story is about learning that her cousin had died in the earthquake and her continued struggle with that grief. 

While many of the stories in the collection deal with the challenges of being a teenager, being an immigrant or child of immigrants, being cross-cultural, or multilingual, some of them simply narrate mundane aspects of life.  Among these we find a story about a boy falling in love as a child, and another of a girl who loses a precious pair of earrings that her mother had given her.  Another such story by Claude Fravien takes on the complexity of parent-child relationships across the cultural divide. As Fravien shares some of the conflicts he faced in dealing with his own parents, whether it was their restricted ideas about how he should dress or their stereotypical opinion about African Americans, he explains that his predicament is not unique.  “So far I have never met one Haitian teenager who thinks of his parents as friends,” although he does clarify the generalization by writing “I am not trying to say that all Haitian parents are like mine”(91). As such, the stories offer a range of experience and attempt to cover Haitian youth experience in its complexity.  

This book is ideal for middle and high school students, whether or not they are of Haitian descent.  It is especially effective as a tool for teaching and reflection since the end of each chapter contains a “Think About it” section with detailed questions directly related to the essay but that delve deeper into the issues addressed.  The penultimate essay, “Haiti’s Part in America’s History” by Cassandra Worrell reviews the intersections of Haitian and U.S. history, reframing that history by beginning,  “Except for the United States, Haiti is the oldest republic in the Western hempishere,” in my opinion a welcome change from the other superlative adjective in the Western Hemisphere more commonly invoked (124).  The final piece is a review essay of Edwidge Danticat’s memoir Brother, I’m Dying written by Kaela Bezard.  The book also contains a timeline of Haitian history that helps to contextualize some of the time periods referred to.  The purpose of Haiti on My Mind is largely educational.  Part of that education is more traditional as in the detailed timeline of Haitian history and section about vodou.  In the latter section, for example the authors distinguish between the term “voodoo” which is used throughout the book, the academic term “vodou” or “vodun,” and the way the religion is referred to as “serving the spirits”  (138). The deeper value of this book as an educational tool can be found in how it corrects popular misconceptions about Haitian culture and uses the voice of teens to do so. 

To me, the stories are especially compelling because they came from an age group that is often neglected in the sense that teenagers too old to be children and too young to be adults, can be overlooked.  Earlier this summer, the International Labour Organization reported that global youth unemployment is at an all time high. Programs such Youth Communication in New York, and A Long Walk Home’s Girl/Friends in Chicago harness the energy and the talents of young people through the use of the arts.  I could not help but think of the large number of unemployed teenagers in Haiti and wonder about the kinds of stories they could tell if given the opportunity as the writers on Haiti on My Mind had been given. Having worked with this age group through youth enrichment groups like AFAB’s (The Association of Haitian Women of Boston) Ayiti demen, I have been struck by the rawness and emotional realness of the experiences they share.  Haiti on My Mind captures this raw and real essence without any pretense.  It is an important collection in which youth not only educate others about Haiti, but also empower those of their generation to tell their own stories for themselves.  

RMJC

Making the case against exile

For many people, summer means travel. My daughter and I recently left Haiti. Our first stop: Miami, Florida. We both have US passports. The immigration officer at Miami International Airport asked me if we live in Haiti, to which I responded in the affirmative. He then asked me why we live in Haiti, to which I responded “why not?” He replied he asked the questions. I told him that I was under the impression that I could live anywhere. He said “No, you can’t”. I guess my surprise showed on my face because he amended that answer: “You can with time, but you can live here now.” I was clearly getting impatient with him, especially when he tried to justify his interrogation by saying that things are so hard in Haiti, “especially with a little one,” gesturing to my daughter. In response to my impatience, he said “the sooner you answer my questions, the sooner I’ll let you go.” Okay, then. I told him I live in Haiti because Haiti has always been part of my life, because my family is there. It’s not something I spent a long time thinking about, actually. Living in Haiti comes naturally to me. The immigration officer was clearly not satisfied, but he did let us go.

Much as this particular immigration officer annoyed me, I cannot brush his questions aside as mere evidence of his ignorance. This is the third time I’ve been faced with such an interrogation upon entry to the United States. Each time with the same amount of hostility and distrust emanating from the immigration or customs officer. My sister and cousins who also travel between Haiti and the United States with US passports tell me of similar stories. So, I’ve begun thinking about what is behind these questions. (And to be clear, I noticed this trend well before 2010.)

To my mind, there are two things at play here: the image of the United States of America -- land of the brave, home of the free -- and the image of Haiti -- poor and troubled black nation. For an immigration officer whose job consists of making sure that people who don’t belong in the US stay out, it must be troubling to come across someone who is allowed to live freely in the US and yet chooses to live elsewhere. Especially when that elsewhere is the antithesis of the US in so many ways. If the US is the greatest nation in the world as oft-repeated, what does it mean when some of its citizens decide to live in a nation as poor and troubled as Haiti? Does that call into question its greatness? I think it might. Perceptions of race also factor into the equation. How can a black person (one who is clearly not wealthy) not be doing everything in his/her power to move to the United States and fulfill the American dream? And if US citizens can choose to live in Haiti, then surely there are Haitian citizens who choose to live there as well. Who would not overstay their visa or try to find illegal employment in the US. Imagine that. I doubt the immigration officer would have had the same attitude had I lived in England or Canada. I obviously don’t know this for a fact, but those countries are probably not as loaded ideologically in the average US immigration officer’s mind. What really astounds me is the suspicion. The attitude that I am doing something wrong by living in Haiti.

The more I think about my run-ins with immigration officers and custom officials, the more I make connections with theories I’ve come across in my professional life. Minus the hostility, thank goodness. But the identification of exile as the dominant trope in Haitian literature has always bothered me. In one of her essays, Maryse Condé claims that the majority of Haitian (and Cuban) writers live in exile. So many conference papers, articles and books including the recent Exile and Post-1946 Haitian literature claim that exile is the most important theme in Haitian literature, that it’s become almost a given in the Haitian studies community. But what of the works of Trouillot (any one of them), Lahens, Mars, Victor? In his novels, Dalembert seems to focus more on migration than exile per se. In fact, the term exile is often used a catch-all term, describing everything from voluntary migration to transnationalism to diasporic writers.

What is it about people’s image of Haiti that makes it so hard to believe that someone with a choice could choose to live there? I think that everyone who deals with Haiti, including those on the academic side of things needs to be willing to ask themselves that question. When people in academia claim to love and respect Haiti, what does that really mean? Because if it remains unimaginable that writers and their readers could choose to live there, then there’s a problem. We need to be willing to look at Haiti from within. Instead of saying what a difficult place it is and wondering how anyone can live there, maybe the question should be what is it about this place that makes so many people passionate about it? What makes people love it so much? Let’s talk about return migration. How can we explain that? Haitians move around a lot. Simply focusing on exile means we’re leaving out a lot of the story. People leave Haiti and they return. Then they leave again. Or not.

When fellow critics and professors talk about the number of Haitian writers living “in exile” – here I’m using quotes because I really can’t think of any Haitian writer who is in true exile today – because it is so difficult for them to live within, I automatically think of the Haitian writers I know and the vast majority of them are living in Haiti. That does not mean that there’s anything wrong with living somewhere else. But why is it so important to be able to affirm that most of our writers live outside of the country? What is really being said with that statement? To me, it seems like the underlying message is that Haiti is not good enough or worthy of these writers and their works. To either produce or nourish them. That is problematic to me.

Even before the devastating January earthquake, people professed admiration for me because I choose to live in Haiti. I always feel vaguely guilty when faced with this sentiment. Moving to Haiti was not some selfless act. I did not give up much to go there. But I did gain a lot. Yes, I do work that I think is important at the State University, but I am not under the illusion that it will change anyone’s life, even less the country. I am not a national hero because I choose to live in Haiti. Nor do I have some hidden agenda. I live in Haiti because I want to. Imagine that. Now imagine many others like me.


NM

Ayiti Afrik in Addis Ababa

This past week I've been in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia attending the Callaloo Conference on literature and culture entitled “Black Movements: Poetics and Praxis.” Like every time I travel to the African continent, I have been consciously and deliberately in search of Haiti. This being my first trip to East Africa, I have been particularly intrigued to uncover similarities and differences with Haiti as compared to in West Africa, where the links are far more historically and culturally rooted as a result of the transatlantic slave trade. Although both Haiti and Ethiopia inhabit important roles in the African and African diasporic imaginary in terms of their relationships to liberation and freedom from colonialism and imperialism (Ethiopia as the only country in Africa to have never been colonized and Haiti as the first country to successfully overthrow slavery) the connections between the two countries are far more tenuous.


Would I find in Addis Ababa as I had in Accra enthusiastic recognition and celebration of the Haitian Revolution and its ubiquitous leaders? Would I be able to locate, as I had in Dakar, a few Haitian writer left remaining from what had once been a vibrant community of Haitian writers living in exile that included Jean Brierre, Roger Dorsinville, and the recently deceased Lucien Lemoine? Would the Ethiopians want to claim me as their sister or cousin like the Beninois I had encountered in Paris and other places? Would they, like my friends and colleagues from Benin, remind me that Benin is ancient Dahomey where many of our Haitian ancestors had come from? Might I happen upon, in this African city known for its international presence that has designated it as the seat of the African Union, any Haitians?

Thus far the answer to all of these questions has been a resounding no. It has been interesting to watch some of my Trinidadian and Jamaican colleagues find links and affirmation of their own cultural identities. One professor from Trinidad travelled to Shashemane a few hours south of Addis Ababa in order to visit the community of Rastafarians to whom Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie had dedicated lands that have been settled by Rastas for many years now. Listening to her stories about drinking sorrel in East Africa surrounded by people who so reminded her of home, I wondered what the Haitian equivalent of that experience would look like for me. Another colleague was constantly mistaken for Ethiopian, and we discussed how for her this recognition made the entire city feel familiar and welcoming.

For me, that familiarity was for the most part visual. The roads, the signs, the landscape, the pace of urban life... At times, the tastes were also faintly familiar, the savory and spicy sauces and well cooked meats. On my first day in Ethiopia, I was reminded that I preferred to taste these sauces with rice when I looked down at my plate and noticed that two huge pieces of njera remained although all the other food was gone. Of course, there were the animals as well-- I saw goats walking down the streets, dogs that looked unclaimed as they roamed about, and a panoply of colorful birds. But it ended there. Since July is winter in Ethiopia, it was actually quite cold during my entire stay, making it difficult for me to associate the climate with Haiti. I remember descending the plane in Dakar and smelling the air for the first time, inhaling the familiar smell of the tropical air that is known only to those who have smelled it. In Ethiopia I shivered as soon as I walked out of the airport…and every day I kicked myself for not having dressed more warmly.

But none of this surprised me, mostly because of how aware I am that Ethiopia and Haiti have virtually no ties. Since one of the heavily discussed topics at the conference was Pan-Africanism, Haiti did come up in the panels as well as in discussions that I had with various colleagues. As someone whose work involves comparative literatures and cultures, I often look for the continuities in literatures, cultures, languages and texts across Africa and its diaspora. This trip has made me realize that despite my own admonishments to always account for the heterogeneity of African and African diaspora studies, I may not have fully considered just how facile our desires to link these countries may sometimes be. My underlying desire to find Haiti in Ethiopia despite my awareness that there was perhaps no reason (such as shared language, historic origin, religion, etc) for this to be so, has made me think more concretely about what we talk about when we talk about Africa in relation to Haiti. Haiti is, in many ways one of the "most African" islands of the Caribbean especially when we consider the literary legacy of Jean Price Mars' Ainsi parla l'oncle and those who followed him. The literary, cultural, religious and even linguistic links to Africa are of course undeniable, but they are also very specific.

Speaking to people I met during my short stay, I learned that Haile Selassie may have traveled to Haiti during his reign, but there was no additional information about this trip such as the year or the occasion, etc. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to look into this further and wonder if there might be archival data for me to locate in Port-au-Prince or in Addis Ababa on the topic. If anything the possibility made the point that, from a comparative perspective there is more research to be done about Haiti's connection to different countries both on the African continent and around the world, in many different fields.
 
RMJC