Diaspora...

...a word that I have heard many times since I was very young, but not once did I ever stop to find out its meaning. To be honest I never considered the fact that the word would be relevant to me in the slightest. Diaspora was always used in conjunction with the "just comes", Haitians who literally just came over to the U.S. So naturally a young AMERICAN born Haitian like myself wanted no connection with the term.

Growing up Haitian in Miami in the early '90s meant one of two things, you were either a "boat" (Haitian immigrant who came over on a raft/boat) or you were a "Zoe" (a member of the Haitian gang Zoe Pound). Honestly, I never once hid my Haitian heritage, but I did disassociate myself with the "boats". My thoughts were, if I couldn’t be regarded, as a regular kid I'd much rather be feared for having gang affiliations. The wrench in that plan was my father. He didn't seem to be too concerned with my day-to-day identity crises. He sent me to school in my Sabbath Best (comparable to others' Sunday Best) and of course strictly enforced the Three L's of Haitian upbringing: L'eglise, Lekol, Lakay (church, school, home). It’s hard to be thugging in your shiny black church shoes while sprinting home full speed after school to avoid baton. I had no strong Haitian accent or any trouble speaking English whatsoever; but I also didn’t have the newest gear, cable TV, the latest toys and games, or even a respectable shape-up (dad claimed only thugs had shape-ups, smh). All that coupled with a French name and a distinct difference in behavior from my peers, I was clearly different. 

Fast forward to middle school, my sense of Haitian pride came from a very unexpected event. During a particularly heated ranking session (when classmates would roast one another), a girl spat, "You Haitian" at me. I was puzzled.  Yes, I was Haitian but how did she know, and what did that matter in this situation? By then my gear had improved considerably thanks to my older siblings, I was getting bi-weekly BARBER SHOP haircuts (I graduated from getting the soup bowl cut), and I even roamed the streets with my goons after school (we were all well behaved magnet students, shhhhh). So I decided to ask what she meant. "I'm Haitian and what?" Believe it or not she burst in to laughter as if I had said a joke. I then found out that some people considered being Haitian almost on par with being a leper. Well after sharing a few choice monosyllabic words with her, my whole mindset changed. I AM HAITIAN!!!! It became my mantra and the world needed to know!!! I began openly speaking French and Creole and repping my colors not only on January 1st or May 18th but whenever possible. I even donned the name the Haitian Sensation given to me by a classmate. In the heart of then very prejudice Carol City, I started to discover my identity. No longer did I long for assimilation or whisper my Creole jokes to my similarly timid Haitian brethren and sistren (not sure that’s a word but you get my point). I learned to walk with my head held high.

I grew up in a very Haitian yet very religious household, so some would argue that I missed out on the typical Haitian experience. Kompa, cremas, grillot, kanaval/balle I knew nothing of them, but what was instilled in me was the language and the rich history. As I got older I became exposed to more and more of the Haitian culture and so did the American populace. Through noted Haitian celebrities like Wyclef and Praz of the Fugees and Garcelle Beauvais (Fancy from the Jamie Foxx show) people of Haitian descent were starting to be viewed in a different light. In hindsight, if I have any regrets, it'd be how long it took me to shirk off the opinions of others and fully embrace my culture. I was the son of the First Independent Black Nation. A descendent of warriors, rulers and scholars. A recipient of a rich inheritance comprised of culture, history and language. Today I have grown into a proud Haitian American man, although my cultural journey is far from complete. I plan to continue my journey into the heart and soul of my heritage and immerse myself in all of what the U.S. has to offer in terms of Haitian culture. Most importantly, I plan to venture for the first time onto the isle of my parents' birth. And of course, you, my readers are invited to join me (well not literally, unless you are paying for our flights)! 

Wish me luck!!!

Na we pita/A plus tard (See you later)