My Identity

I found a piece of my identity this past Sunday in Upstate New York. Being around family that I hadn't seen since my last time in Haiti in 2017, felt like I was in the motherland. I was around my people. I was in my culture.

Have I been Americanized? Those I meet tend to mention I have an American accent. It's not a surprise when you've been living in the U.S. since you were 5. But my roots are as true to me as could be. I was sent to the U.S. But I’m a pure-blooded Haitian. Sometimes I feel an identity crisis. It’s like my way of life and culture was stripped from me. And now I must fight to keep it.

This past Sunday was the most connected I felt to Haiti since 2017. Seeing my little cousins and how much they’d grown blew me away. My great-aunt was glowing, looking like she hadn’t aged at all. My cousin in-law was ecstatic to see me. We picked up right where we left off. I was home. My culture was rich and ever-present. Its strength was beyond measure.

Since then, I’ve felt more connected to my family and who I really am. I’ve gained a newfound appreciation for where I come from and how we look out for each other. I have now been more in touch with my family and offer support wherever I can.

In the U.S., the way of life is generally individualistic. You work, pay your bills and take care of your kids if you have any. Then you repeat. In Haiti, life is more communal. While you work and pay your bills as well, you invest time and energy in more than just your immediate family. We take care of each other. We’ll see our friends and family at least once a week. We’ll give each other food, money, and resources whenever we can. We check in with each other frequently. We are there for each other. There’s a certain love that you’ll get just from your neighbors. This is my original way of life.

The last time I went to Haiti, I wanted to live there. The sun, food, and lifestyle resonated with my heart. As a child, I used to go to Haiti every year. I remember watching new music videos on tv of my favorite Haitian artists. I still listen to them today. Haitian Creole is a language I speak everyday as well, especially to communicate with my immediate family. My culture is a huge part of my identity and I never want to lose that.

Before we moved to the U.S., my uncle would visit my parents and I every Sunday and we’d break bread. In Haiti, we focus on people. Seeing my family this past weekend reminded me of what’s truly important.