On the first real morning in Haiti, one of the RMI guys asked Greg (our trip leader) if I was Haitian. I was shocked by this at first because I assumed that I obviously looked American. During our trip, someone in the village would walk up to me and ask me a question in Creole. I always responded with 'I do not speak Creole, I am sorry'. Most would give me a strange look at first, then smile with an 'Oh yeah' kind of expression. The most ironic moment was during our children's program when a little girl, no more than 4 years old, comes straight to me, speaking in Creole, with what looks like a small crisis going on in her head. The irony is that Amy Long, a white girl who knows a little bit of Creole, immediately stepped in and the little girl forgot all about me. I thought it would be obvious that I was not Haitian, but apparently, that was not always the case.
As we continued to hang out, it became understood that I was indeed an American with very little Creole and very limited (and very mediocre) French. I wondered what they thought of me as a Black American coming to them. I even wondered if they were disappointed that I didn't know more about their culture even though I looked so much like them. I had (and still have) fear that not being more familiar with their culture would be offensive, but I was not exactly sure how to fix it.
I had a conversation about these thoughts with Benjamin, one of the RMI guys and a Haiti native. I was surprised to find out that many Haitians (including Benjamin himself at one point) believed that the US was a place only for white people. They thought that the only people who could truly live and thrive in the US were European descendants. So when they see someone like me, a Black man, coming from the states, leading meetings and looking fairly healthy...it gives them hope about life outside of Haiti, and the potential for those of us with African ancestry.
While in Tiburon, I led a number of youth/young adult meetings. My goal was to inspire them to live for Christ and be the Church today while they are young. One of the guys who attended was named Harold. Harold is an artist and works in the Tiburon Children's school. After the meeting, he commented to Amy that he enjoyed hearing me speak. Amy pressed him for more specifics and his comment back to her was 'he looked like me'. It had not really dawned on me, but chances are the number of Black Americans who come in on missionary teams to this country is probably smaller than one would think. What an honor to connect with Harold in such a unique way.
I cannot believe I am gonna say this, and I hope this comes out okay. But as I continue to make trips to Haiti, I hope God uses the fact that I share a common ancestry with these people to be a point of contact and a source of hope. I pray that when they see me, they really see that they can do more than I have ever done. I hope that my Black face is inspiration for them to dream big and believe God that those dreams really can come true. Then maybe one day, they'll be able to inspire others who not only share ancestors but also nationality to trust the God who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all they could ask or think. All praise and glory to the Good God!
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