The Bistro: Stories of Marginalized Communities

What Does The Louisiana Purchase, Disney's The Princess and The Frog and Springfield, Ohio Have In Common?

Lo Weaver

Cold Opening:

Yooooooo, Y’all wanna know what the Louisiana Purchase, Disney’s The Princess and The Frog and Springfield, Ohio all have in common?

Well, let’s talk about that shit then!

Intro:

Welcome back, welcome back, welcome baaaaaaack. Thank y’all for joining me on another episode here at The Bistro, where we serve up dishes of history, culture, and everything in between. I’m your host Lo and today, we’re diving into the vibrant, resilient, and often misunderstood history of Haitians in the United States.

Lil Haiti Represent!

But before we dig into that, let’s touch on a story making recent headlines. 

The Haitian Bridge Alliance, a nonprofit organization dedicated to advocating for the Haitian community, has just filed criminal charges against former President Donald Trump and Senator JD Vance.

What’s the fuss about? 

Well, both Trump and Vance made unsubstantiated claims that Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, were eating pets. 

These dangerous and false statements have caused chaos, including bomb threats and public panic in Springfield. 

The nonprofit is seeking to hold them accountable for the fear and disruption caused in the community, with charges ranging from disrupting public services to aggravated menacing. 

The City of Springfield is watching as the legal process unfolds, while both Trump and Vance continue to defend their positions, citing concerns over immigration.

It’s a reminder of how essential it is to ground conversations in facts, not fear-mongering—especially when it comes to the lives of real people.

So, with that, let’s dive right into today’s topic: the powerful story of Haitian immigrants in the U.S. and, more specifically of course, South Florida. 

Haitian culture is a beautiful tapestry woven with threads of history, pride, and survival. 

From vibrant celebrations of music and dance, to their language, to their art and spirituality, Haitians have not only fought against prejudice, but have thrived, making their mark on American society while staying true to their roots.

So gone head, grab your favorite drink—whether it’s coffee, tea, or something a little stronger—and let’s spill some Black history tea, here - At The Bistro!

The History of Haitians in US

So, let’s take a step back. 

It’s 1804. Haiti declares its independence from France, becoming the first Black republic in the world and the first nation to abolish slavery after a successful revolution led by formerly enslaved Africans. 

You see, The Haitian Revolution had many international repercussions. It ended Napoleon's attempts to create a French empire in the Western Hemisphere and arguably caused France to decide to sell its North American holdings to the United States (the Louisiana Purchase)—thus enabling the expansion of slavery into that territory.

This event was monumental, but it also set the stage for years of hardship. 

European nations and the U.S. refused to recognize Haiti’s independence, leading to economic isolation and poverty. 

Fast forward to the mid-20th century and Haitians begin migrating to the U.S. in larger numbers, seeking refuge from political turmoil and poverty. 

In 1957, François 'Papa Doc' Duvalier rose to power, imposing a brutal dictatorship that forced many Haitians to flee. His reign, followed by his son, Jean-Claude 'Baby Doc' Duvalier, pushed tens of thousands of Haitians to seek safety and opportunities elsewhere. 

PLUG: I strongly recommend the podcast Behind the Bastards and their series on Pappa Doc, Baby Doc and the brutal dictatorships of Haiti. They really give you a lot of context and perspective to why folks were fleeing.

In 1965, the U.S. Immigration Act opened the doors wider, allowing more Haitian families to reunite and settle, especially in cities like New York, Boston, and Miami. 

But it was in the 1970s that the real migration wave hit.

The Stigma Surrounding Haitians

Picture this: it’s the late 1970s, and boats filled with Haitian refugees—often referred to as 'Haitian boat people'—are arriving on the shores of Florida. 

They’re fleeing political persecution, economic devastation, and violent regimes. 

Miami, with its proximity to Haiti, becomes the epicenter of this migration.

From 1977 to 1981, an estimated 70,000 Haitians landed in Florida, most of them in Miami. 

But their welcome wasn’t warm. 

Haitians faced harsh discrimination, racism, and were often seen as an 'undesirable' immigrant group. 

The stigma surrounding Haitians didn’t help—there were misconceptions that Haitians were carriers of diseases, tied to Vodou, responsible for crime and look at this folks,  there were also rumors that Haitians ate stray cats.

You know, Haitians have been dealing with negative stereotypes since way back—even right after their independence in 1804. 

Supporters of American slavery couldn’t stand the idea of a successful Black republic, so they started spreading all these wild stories about Haiti. 

They’d talk about cannibalism and child sacrifice, trying to scare people and justify keeping slavery in the U.S. 

They used fear and lies to make Haiti the villain, instead of a symbol of freedom and resilience.

Fast forward to 1915, when the U.S. decided to occupy Haiti. 

That same playbook came out again. 

Those old, false stories were dusted off and retold, this time to justify the occupation. 

It was during this period that a lot of the fear around Vodou—or Voodoo, as it’s often misunderstood—entered the American consciousness. 

Hollywood and the media painted this terrifying picture of Haitian culture that was completely inaccurate but stuck around for decades.

And that same fear and misinformation probably informed how Haitians were treated when they started arriving in Miami in the 1980s and 1990s. 

Despite fleeing a brutal dictatorship, Haitians were rarely considered political refugees. 

Let’s not forget the AIDS crisis in the early 1980s, when Haitians were falsely blamed as one of the groups spreading the disease. The CDC listed Haitians as a high-risk group in 1983, which only fueled more negative stereotypes and discrimination.

Side Note:

Before we go on any further, we first need to know how we got here!

The idea of "voodoo" (spelled with two O's) as it's portrayed in pop culture and horror films is not rooted in reality.

The Haitian religion known as Vodou is not primarily based on magic or witchcraft. 

The vast majority of Vodou practitioners, have never seen a voodoo doll, let alone used one. 

Haitian Vodou primarily involves serving spirits called lwa, and much of its practice is blended with Roman Catholicism.

I want to distinguish Haitian Vodou from the tradition of New Orleans Voodoo. 

Voodoo in New Orleans can sometimes manifest as a cultural theme or what we might call "tourist voodoo," something you might see in local gift shops on t-shirts or in the branding of local products. 

But New Orleans Voodoo can also refer to the local beliefs and practices of populations that trace their origins back to the trans-Atlantic slave trade when enslaved Africans were brought to Louisiana in the 17th and 18th centuries, which at the time was a French colony.


Keep in mind, just like in most religions, there is diversity within Haitian Vodou, and practices vary from family to family and community to community.

Haitian Vodou emerged in the 1600s within communities of enslaved Africans who were forced onto the island of Hispaniola, which is today divided into two countries: Haiti on the western third and the Dominican Republic on the eastern two-thirds. 

People from all over West and West Central Africa were forced to work on Caribbean plantations. 

Some of the largest populations brought to Hispaniola came from regions around modern-day Benin and Western Nigeria, including the Fon and Ewe people, as well as various Yoruba-speaking ethnic groups. 

Congo communities from Central Africa also played a significant role in Haiti’s demographic makeup. 

Many of the terms for spirits and practices in Vodou derive from African languages and cultures.

France gained control of the western third of Hispaniola in 1659 and formed the colony of Saint-Domingue, which quickly became one of France’s most profitable—and most brutal—colonies, producing raw goods that built European wealth and infrastructure. 

By the late 17th and early 18th centuries, hundreds of thousands of Africans were enslaved in this colony, and they continued their religious traditions from their homeland, blending them with Catholic Christianity. Some of this blending came from Africans who had already encountered Christianized elements back home, as Christianity had been introduced to West Central Africa centuries earlier by the Portuguese. 

However, this blending also occurred by force under colonial rulers, especially after King Louis XIV issued the Code Noir in 1685, which set rules for the treatment of enslaved people and decreed that missionaries should try converting them to Christianity.

And another fact, Vodou played a major role in throwing off colonial rule during the Haitian Revolution.

END OF SIDE NOTE

Unlike their Cuban neighbors, who were granted asylum and legal resident status, Haitians were denied refuge, locked in detention centers for months, and many were deported back to Haiti. 

The double standard was clear, and it was rooted in these old, harmful narratives.

PLUG: Go back and listen to the Liberty City Race Rebellion series here for more context regarding the treatment of Cuban immigrants versus Haitian migrants.

As we dive deeper, it’s essential to understand the impact of these negative stereotypes on the Haitian community in Miami. 

Throughout the 1980s and much of the 1990s, many Haitians felt the need to deflect any unnecessary attention. Unfortunately, for some, their Haitian identity and culture became a source of shame.

You had affluent, professional Haitians—many of whom were light-skinned and could easily pass for European or Latino—who largely chose to keep their cultural ties under wraps. 

Racial and class stratification that existed back in Haiti continued to play out here in Miami, influencing the Haitian elite's decision to distance themselves from their Black, impoverished compatriots in neighborhoods like Little Haiti. Instead, many emphasized a French identity, refusing to do business in Little Haiti or engage with Black Haitians. This created barriers that impeded the formation of strong economic networks like those seen in other ethnic communities in Miami.

Haitians represent a triple minority in Miami: They are Black, they are immigrants, and they are linguistically isolated, as the majority of Haitians speak Kreyòl, their native language.

For many Black Haitian youth during this time, hiding their Haitian identity became a coping mechanism. They Americanized their names, adopted a hip-hop aesthetic, and often refused to speak Kreyòl, all in an effort to fit in. 

The job discrimination that many Haitians faced pushed them, especially women, into the informal economy. 

A lot of individuals established underground restaurants and catering services from their homes. 

Others sold goods on street corners or set up shop at places like the Opa Locka Hialeah Flea Market. 

This resilience and creativity not only provided for families but also began to reclaim and celebrate Haitian culture in the face of adversity."


Haitian Culture From 1990s to Present

Despite this, Haitians never gave up. Their culture, deeply rooted in resilience, pushed back. In the face of discrimination and systemic barriers, they found ways to maintain their traditions, preserve their language—Creole—and build strong communities.

Music was key. From the mid-20th century, Haitian Kompa music, which fuses African rhythms with Caribbean influences, became a way for Haitians to stay connected to their roots. Little Haiti, a vibrant neighborhood in Miami, became a cultural haven in the 1980s, where Kompa and Creole thrived.

And then came the 1990s—a turning point for Haitian identity in America. This is when Wyclef Jean and The Fugees took the global stage, proudly flaunting their Haitian roots. Wyclef’s success gave younger Haitian-Americans permission to reclaim and celebrate their culture. Suddenly, Haitian pride was mainstream, and the community began to feel more seen and heard.


Now, let's shine a light on the incredible contributions of Haitian visual artists, who have truly made their mark in the art world. Today, their works are not only featured in major collections across the United States but are also fetching impressive prices at top auction houses.

One name that stands out in this vibrant landscape is Jean-Michel Basquiat. Born in Brooklyn, Basquiat transitioned from street graffiti to the avant-garde art scene in New York during the 1980s. His rise to international fame was nothing short of meteoric, capturing the attention of art lovers and critics alike. Sadly, his brilliant journey was cut short by an untimely death, but his legacy continues to inspire and resonate in the art world and beyond.

By the early 2000s, Haitians in Miami had cemented their presence. In 2004, Haitians in Miami celebrated the 200th anniversary of their country’s independence from France. It was a moment of pride and resilience, as they reflected on how far their community had come. Little Haiti was officially designated in 2016, acknowledging the contributions of this vibrant community to the city of Miami.

So what does all of this history mean? It means that despite facing unimaginable odds, Haitians have continued to build, to survive, and to thrive. From the revolution of 1804 to the ongoing battles with misrepresentation in 2024, the Haitian spirit is unbreakable. It’s a spirit that’s evident not just in their resilience, but in their art, their music, their spirituality, and their food."

So, when we talk about H aitian culture, we’re talking about a people who have fought for their freedom, their rights, and their dignity for over 200 years. We’re talking about their impact on U.S. culture, their contributions to cities like Miami, and their continued fight against stereotypes.

From the first Haitian boat people landing on the shores of Miami to the celebration of Haitian Heritage Month every May, the story of Haitians in the U.S. is one of perseverance, strength, and cultural brilliance.