Di li an Kreyol/Say it in Creole

One of the biggest fears of an immigrant parent is having their kids grow up in foreign surroundings, assimilate into the new culture and completely abandon the culture and language of their native country. Haitian parents are no exception. I remember admonishments of "Timoun yo oblije aprann pale Kreyòl (the kids need to learn to speak creole)" and "Poukisa ou pa ka di sa nan Français (why can't you say that in French)". 

When I was growing up, grann mwen (my grandmother) could give you a few words in English and could understand a few more, but was very self conscious about her accent so it was either French or Creole when speaking with her. Both of my parents are fluent in English, French, Creole, and Spanish (not to brag but you can throw in a little Greek and Latin too) so comprehension/communication wasn't an issue with them. For them it was a matter of pride. 

Miss-Representation

The month of May is recognized as Haitian Heritage Month in South Florida. All month long the Haitian Diaspora has been proudly representing the Red and Blue and sharing our culture as the world excitedly looks on. Since THE hurricane of 2008 and the 7.0 earthquake of 2010 ravaged Haiti, the small French and Creole speaking island has been in the public eye. With a newly elected President and a new dedication to establishing Haiti as a premiere tourist destination, the negative perception of Haiti has slowly been changing.

But then local news outlets released these headlines:

North Miami Mayor Sought In Mortgage Fraud Investigation - CBS news

North Miami Mayor Facing Mortgage Fraud Charges - NBC News

North Miami Mayor charged in $8 million mortgage fraud scheme - ABC News

North Miami mayor reportedly to be charged with fraud - Fox News

Roses are Red Violets are...

I'm not one of those guys who considers himself a poet. I'm definitely not what one would call a spoken word artist either. I would say that I have a talent for stringing words together in rhythmic pattern with the purpose of conveying a message or my personal feelings. But if you want to be technical I do enjoy writing poetry. I'm not keen on performing my own stuff but I do enjoy sharing it and being heavily complimented on it (wink wink).

So every now and then I will share a poem with you guys. I welcome commentary and even encourage you to do the same. Many people out there are private poets and have no intention of sharing their work. The thing is whether you plan on publishing your work or just doing it for fun, poetry is a great way to share your feelings and relieve stress. And believe it or not you may find out that you have a knack for it and that people may actually enjoy it. I'll be sharing one below and every now and then from here on. Hope you guys do the same...Until then

Na we pita/A plus tard




Yours Truly, by Rhonel Cinous 

Regal, raffish and extremely well read 
Haitian by heritage, American by birth, culturally conscious and accepting of all
On a journey to find himself and leave a size 13.5 foot print on this world too big for the next man to fill
Never hesitant to take on the next challenge that knocks on his door 
Eccentric in his ways, eclectic in his tastes, ever inquisitive and eager to learn the lessons life has to offer
Looking for adventure, living life to the fullest and loving each day the good Lord blessed him with 
He is Rhonel. 
Just your everyday average amazing human being
With something to say 
A loud voice to say it with
Hoping to touch anyone who may hear him

No, please, after you...

 

The Scenario

A man is walking towards the entrance of a building. The building has what looks like a pair of not so heavy double doors. A few paces ahead of him is a woman chatting away on her phone and teasing her hair with her free hand. She reaches the doors ahead of him, looks back at him, then again at the doors and she waits.

The Question
 
The woman arrived to the doors first, is unencumbered by any items in hand, and seems to be physically capable of opening the doors herself. The man notices that she purposefully waits for him to reach her and pretty much signals him to open the doors for her. What should he do?

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.