The poem is proof of how Haiti is so close to our heart as black people. It is such a strong symbol of our humanity that just wont fade, no matter how much trouble and disaster is thrown at her by the gods and by human beings.
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not to long ago, i gladly and joyfully sat through a session of #IntroductionToFrancophoneWorld class offered by Wandia Njoya.
the country of discussion was Haiti/Ayiti.
classrooms can offer sites of independent thought, creativity
and critical thinking. wandia, in my opinion does that.
sometimes, without much accolade or recognition.
she still is here
we are still here
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The Circles that Tie us
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i was almost nineteen years of age
when i said goodbye to daystar
my heart
shattered
my voice
muted by self censor
my body
limp with exhaustion
twenty years later
i was back in a classroom in daystar
i was no longer almost nineteen
my body having adjusted to stretching into spaces
of nonconformity
my tongue used to speak for self and others
i was different now
so was the space i had previously abhorred
i sat with students who were me at nineteen
eager
bodies agile & firm
eyes focused on the infinite realm of possibilities
their legs
unaccustomed to the weariness of disappointment
Revolución for Ayiti
Revolución for Ayiti
independence
the first for former black slaves
in western hemisphere
congo square
beat of the drum
Revolución for Ayiti
Revolución for Ayiti
the food for the body
recipes dug through searches online
White rice
Sos Pwa
Mayi Moulen
Pikliz
Poule en Sauce
Bouillon
Pen Patat
Coz revolutionaries need to eat
Revolución for Ayiti
Revolución for Ayiti
words of creole
scribbled on the board
reminding / remembering
cries of those
whose lungs
whose limbs
whose eyes
whose mouths
whose tongues
whose ideas
refused
silence
castrated
forgotten
denied
Because I was almost nineteen once
Because we were nineteen once
Because we could still be nineteen once again
& because we are
the children of the children of the children of the children
of the children of the children of the children of the children
of the children of the children of the children of the children of
the children of the children of the children of the children of the
children of the children of the children of the children of the children
of the children of the children of the children of the children of the
children of the children of the children of the children of the children
stolen
beaten
cast away
because we are
Ayiti from highlands
Ayiti from the shores of the lake
Ayiti from the tips of the northern parts
Ayiti along the coral relief
because we are
all Ayiti