I grew up with an idea of Haiti as almost a fairyland for Black folks: a place founded by a victorious slave rebellion. I assumed Haiti was the Super Bowl of Black freedom, like Atlanta on steroids. I thought, before seeing it for myself, that while there would be poverty, I was going to see Black industry, Black scientists, Black teachers, and a Black world running with inspiring beauty. Instead, I saw devastation. I saw people who could have been my cousins—and with the slave trade, you never know—living in a state of torment in a country still wrecked from the 2010 earthquake. I saw destruction and disarray, but I also saw beautiful people, loving each other and hustling. The pain messed up my mind. It was depressing to see so many people without access to education, clean water, or hospitals. It was also humbling to see the drive that people had to live their lives, rebuild, and not be bitter at everyone and everything.
Through Cliff’s guidance, I also learned something about resilience. I met kids who were walking miles just to go to school and parents working for less than a dollar a day. I worked in an orphanage in Port-au-Prince that Cliff supports, and the workers there told me about people who, with tears in their eyes, would drop kids off at the orphanages because they couldn’t afford to raise them. These families would say, “If I keep this baby, they will starve. This is their only chance at survival.” We got to work feeding the kids: the food was rice and some chicken. When I was feeding these kind, polite young people, I saw that they had bowls for the rice but very few spoons. I saw them then share spoons so they could eat it. But what I’ll never forget is how much pride they took in what they ate. They calmly waited turns to use those spoons, even though they were starving, so they could eat with dignity. I also spoke to a woman who worked at a hospital; she told me they can only take in six women giving birth in a day, so if a seventh woman comes, she has to give birth outside.
These were people on the edge of oblivion, but they still kept fighting. I met children who walked miles and risked drowning as they crossed a rickety bridge, just to get to school. They did it not only for knowledge but also because school was where they were going to get their one meal that day. This is a school Cliff is rebuilding, in a community called Le Charme. It’s about ninety minutes from the airport, but with Haiti’s lack of paved roads, it took us almost four hours to get there. Cliff is taking this school that looks like it could barely stand up to a stiff wind, with bed-sheets hung up to create separate rooms, and turning it into a real school, with six classrooms, completely hurricane- and earthquake-proofed.
Seeing the kids light up at the idea that their school—and therefore their future—had a chance led me to imagine what could happen if they had any kind of financial support. They would work their asses off and contribute to the world in ways we cannot foresee. But nobody is investing in Haiti. Maybe it’s still to punish them for their revolution in 1804. Maybe if there were gold or oil under the ground, people would figure out a way to care.
The Haitian people were incredibly kind to us and loved that we were there. It’s not like they knew us from NFL Sunday Ticket or were Seahawks fans. I think it was more that they saw Black people coming to provide aid and Black people with some resources, so there was a sense of trust. They wanted to know who we were. In us, they saw hope.
Haiti inspired me because its people inspired me. I saw people in conditions you can’t imagine, still trying to make better lives for themselves and their families. I will never abide anybody calling Haiti a shithole.
It also gave me the perspective that so much of what we think really matters, doesn’t. At the core of everything is survival, and it pushes you to ask questions until you get answers: Why don’t people in Haiti have access to clean water? Why don’t people have books? Why don’t they have medicine? Why can’t they have bathrooms that work? It blows your mind. It’s not like Haiti is poor because it has no resources. This place was called the Jewel of the Antilles because enough wealth was extracted from its earth to enrich the entire continent of Europe. All this money was made off of Haiti, but when the people of Haiti freed themselves from France in 1804, the French charged Haiti reparations because France had “lost its property.” Haiti is still paying off debt to France. I wouldn’t pay them anything. What are you going to take? You took everything, there ain’t nothing left!
There’s trash everywhere. There are still crushed buildings every place you look. There are people who still don’t know if their loved ones died in the earthquake, and it was eight years ago! It’s easy to question the whole human experiment when you see Haiti. But the trip also left me thinking about my friend Cliff, and I was like, Damn, what he’s doing is so
