With Love from Miami to Haiti

With Love from Miami to Haiti By Deborah Desilets Arriving in Port Au Prince, Haiti, I taxied out of the city up toward the red hills that held the classy, not opulent, La Hotel Villa Creole, and found a discreet, unpretentious, and graciously open establishment located a few miles west…

With Love from Miami to Haiti

By Deborah Desilets

Arriving in Port Au Prince, Haiti, I taxied out of the city up toward the red hills that held the classy, not opulent, La Hotel Villa Creole, and found a discreet, unpretentious, and graciously open establishment located a few miles west of the capital. It was 1992.

What a lucky traveler I was to sleep under the moonlight of Haiti. Awakening I felt the mild morning mist come through the window, heard the cock crow to announce the day and was blanketed by the bluest sky. Into my room flowed the countryside of Haiti from whence I beheld a glistening landscape where raindrops were sun-catchers and printed a language like Braille upon the red clay soil. The light was unbearably lithe following like wind off branches and propelling the intoxicating fragrance of the trumpet plant. I had arrived in Haiti—and found Eden. Clamoring for more of this Eden on Earth, in 2006 I relocated my architectural office from Miami Beach to Little Haiti near Lemon City in Miami, Florida. My rented studio space was owned by the Haitian painter, Edouard Duval-Carrie, and was on 55th Street. Behind my office I watched as Little Haiti built a cultural arts center, and Mythological Art emerged from Edouard’s studio and ZEBRA Studio began to make music.  Finally, my Eden.

On January 12, 2010, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake shook Haiti; and it shook me. I recalled the inescapable truth that the buildings in Port-au-Prince were then in bad condition, and I recalled an image of the continuous line of defiantly placed jagged broken glass bottles turned up-side down and embedded in cement on parapet walls—which to me in 1992 looked like gnarled angry teeth to the sky—and I knew all that would crumble. To stop the tumbling of my mind, I picked up my pencil and drew my impressions of my Joys of Haiti. Then after that personal descargo I asked, and received, permission to instruct a class at the Miami Art Charter School in making Haitian Veinelle’s (Valentine’s) to show our support for Haiti. There, for the weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day the students wrote valentine poems to Haiti, constructed their valentine art cards and would exhibit their work at the Albion Hotel courtyard on Miami Beach. As well, The Bass Museum used a Family Art Day to allow me to help children of Miami Beach to create their Haitian Valentines. In the lobby of the Museum, children put their handprint on a 3’ globe and wrote their notes to Haiti.

This Valentine’s Day I thought to bring out the Art Cards done in 2010 and share with a larger audience that effort shown toward Haiti by children. In reviewing the history of Haiti with the children there, we discussed The Haitian Revolution from 1791-1803; the Haitian Diaspora that brought Haitians to North America; and we acknowledged that at the time of the earthquake, 975,000 people of Haitian descent lived in America—from Chicago to Miami. We learned that since Miami, Florida was geographically close to the island of Haiti, Florida—like a finger into the Caribbean—we shared with Haiti a long history of civil rights issues.

To recap: La Florida of 1513-1824 provided a haven for runaway slaves from the islands—runaways were called cimmarrones—and later Seminoles. When in 1819 La Florida became Florida and joined the United States of America, there would be a Seminole nation. Throughout the Caribbean Islands and the America’s there has been the long struggle to expunge racism. At this time of year, when we celebrate both civil rights and Valentine’s Day, and as we discuss the footsteps of folks before us in the fight against racism, may we not only discuss political freedom but also emancipation from intellectual narrowness and the bondage of injurious convention. As Bob Marley sang: “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery; none but ourselves can free our minds.” None but ourselves can make love or hate.

The 2010 HAITIAN VIENELLE’S are on display through Valentine’s Day at Cross Cultural Coalition at Railroad Square, Arts and Entertainment, owned by Janet Lee Decosmo, located at 645 McDonnell Street, Railroad Square in Tallahassee, Florida. For information about ordering HAITIAN VIENELLE’s call ARTAngels, Deborah Desilets, at 305.310.6331 or inquire at the Gallery.

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