The weekend is here. We decided to do some exploring. There are a few other students from the University of Chicago staying at Kay Alumni and we have made a pack to do something every single weekend and explore. Jenny Mellon, the daughter of the founders of Hôpital Albert Schweitzer challenged us saying, “Who can get the furthest away from the hospital.” Today, one of our expeditions began towards a beautiful river called “Sucre Riviere” or “Sweet River.” Needless to say, the river was astonishing. The water was so clear, and the streams allowed me to float without a single care. Speaking of being without a single care, there was a young boy who pulled off his pants and jumped into the river. I am sitting here at a table in Haiti and my friends are back home in the United States devastated by the killings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. I too, am sad. I feel so tired. Was I really floating so carefree in the water? Maybe I was floating carefree because I was in Haiti. Maybe the young boy jumped in without a care because he was in Haiti, his home, where everyone looks like him, speaks like him. His home is a place where even if someone does not quite look like him or speak like him, that “someone” is the minority. In the pool, I felt quite jealous of him being able to jump in the way he did. I thought back to when times were so simple. I do not know the extent to how carefree I was because I was not naked as he was. Either way, I knew that he was safe. After the shootings, occurred, I have seen black mothers worry about their black boys and girls. I scrolled through my Facebook and witnessed, my elementary school teacher fearing for the life of her own two sons. I saw graphic photos and videos reposted and shared multiple times with the resounding question of “Why?” I feel like I have been shot. I would like to think that these bullets that were fired from these policemen created wounds in the fabric of society that we call America. However, it seems this idea of a “Fabric of Society” is false. There are scraps of fabric that are lying beside the sewing machine.
I shared my strife with two doctors from Haiti and they asked “Why? You have black president.” They seemed not to understand my explanation of police brutality. My words only went so far. These words felt like salt on a wound that has been on my black skin from the first time I saw Trayvon Martin’s face. I think this goes back to what happened at this “Sweet River.” This is the difference between jumping in naked and only floating with your clothes on. Both are equally gratifying, but it requires an understanding. The water cannot be too sweet until everyone can fully enjoy it.
Until #BlackLivesMatter then we can use and proclaim the statement #AllLivesMatter. There are many other lives that seem insignificant when facing a short distance between the barrel of a policeman’s gun. Regardless, we are a long way from being able to utter the words “All Lives” because the truth of the matter is that it is not true. After a while of swimming naked, the same young boy put back on his swimming trunks. I guess he figured that he was the odd one out because he was not wearing any clothes. He was no less happy, finding that he was still enjoying his “Sweet River.” He still wore his happy smile and he still swam with an intense enthusiasm. There has to be a point where no matter what you were taught to do or brought up knowing, you have to understand one’s thinking. This young boy felt safe jumping in naked without a care, but once he saw a plethora of people with clothes— he changed. After we called him over to play this game about who can stay under the water for the longest, he even swam over to play with us. When it comes to these #BlackLivesMatters issues, we all ought to get with the program. Accepting that Black lives matters does not change the world for the worst, but for the better.
On the way back, I reflected on Ms. Mellon’s word about “Who can get the furthest away from the hospital.” I thought about being so far away from home but being so close to home at every single turn. I do not know if it is because I am Haitian or if it is because I am American. I do not know if it is because I am both. I am reminded that you cannot escape your situation even if you tried.